Three of the Four Sombar Kids posing with their treats for Santa. This year they decided not to include the obligatory nutritional side dishes of apples and carrots. Now we know why Santa's waist seems ever so larger-look at that pile of cookies!
I'll title this lovely photo "Christmas Eve With The Crazies"




Tom is a stickler for the element of surprise on Christmas morning and has MANY rules which his children must adhere to before diving into their presents. He requires that they all be lead into the living room, together, with their eyes closed (Liam seen here, cheating). He even goes so far as to tape all of the entrances shut or nailing up curtains on Christmas Eve, so NOBODY gets a sneak-peek. What a Party Pooper!!




Benjamin surveying the mountains of gifts left by his weary parents, Poppy and Tessa, and Santa Claus (Santa only leaves one gift per child-unwrapped-he gets off easy, I would say.)


Lily- the only 10 year old I know who would so happily receive a biography of John F. Kennedy for Christmas! Here she is sporting her new chef's hat, which she plans to use when starting her cupcake business soon.




Liam and his Star Wars treasures.










Seth Paul Sombar's FIRST CHRISTMAS!!!

Seth in his new bungee-jumpy thing-a-ma-bob.

to Grandmother's house we went....and Auntie Wendy's and Jennifer's and Mary Anne's...

we had a whirlwind visit to Maryland this past week. In typical "Letterman" fashion, here is my TOP TEN:

10. Wanting to drive my car off an embankment after listening to three of my four lovely children whine, scream, fight for the first two hours of our road trip. I kept fantasizing about driving with my left hand and smacking the @#%$ out of Benjamin, sitting just behind me and to the right, with a flyswatter. Of course, most people, including myself, don't carry such weapons in their vehicles but I may start. "Moooooooooooooooommmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmyyyyyyyyyy....I not like this music...Lily not sharing her gum...MOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMYYYYYYYYYYYYY...OPEN MY WAAAAAAAAAAATTTTTTTTTTERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR BOTTTTTTTTTTTTLE (BEN- I'M DRIVING- ASK LILY)..BUT I WANT YOU TO DO IT, MOMMY. How much longer, Mooooooooooooooooooommmmmmmmmmmyyyyyyy (that was 20 minutes into the 5 hour drive), I HATE YOU LIAM...........I HATE EVERYBODY............I HAVE TO PEEEEEEEEEEEEE, Mommmmmmmmmmmmy. I have to poooooooooooooooooop Mommmmmmmmmmmy. Mommmy? Why you not talking Mommmy? MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMYYYYYYYYYYYYY..are you listening to me MOMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY? Where's Daddy?
9. Bribing Lily with the promise of the DVD "High School Musical 2" if she would take her brother into the reststop to poop and then wipe his heinie, while I nursed a very hungry Seth in the front seat of the van. Clearly, I have no shame. ("Mommy- that was so disgusting!!!!!!" welcome to my world, Lily. sigh)
8. Knocking over two dogs, a cat, and six children (4 of whom were mine), just to get to the bottle of tequila. which my sistah Wendy had waiting for me when we finally arrived in Maryland. Nothing says "Merry Christmas" like a good margarita, people. Believe me.
7. Realizing that I am indeed NOT smarter than a fifth grader (or a first grader, for that matter), while playing the board game of the same name at my long-lost but newly found buddy Jennifer's (Jennifly) house. I mean, really...true or false "granite is an igneous rock" is a dumb question and who in their right mind harbors that kind of trivia in their brains when most of the space is being reserved for the lyrics to all of the songs from the 1980s (the last decade I can recall actually learning the words to songs- now I just hum them like Dustin Hoffman in Rainman).
6. Yes you can breastfeed your baby while holding a margarita...I seem to have a reputation which precedes me. And how interesting it is to be imbibing at the kitchen table instead of on the floor of a frat house, eh Jen? :)
5. The Chinese not only produce lead-laden baby toys, but they also seem to have issues with hallucinating while labeling blankets for stupid American consumers such as myself. Perhaps I am too harsh- I mean, I'm sure its easy to confuse a poorly manufactured textile for the shorn hair of a fine four-legged creature. This information being relevant because I very proudly bestowed a rather lovely ALPACA throw on my soul mate, Mary Anne, for Christmas, whose tag reads "100% polyester!!" Can I have another margarita, please?
4. Mary Anne switched me away from my drink of choice to another intoxicating substance called "chocolate peanut butter malt balls." I didn't need to lose any of that baby weight anyway....
3. Noshing on rotisserie tofu at one of the best vegetarian restaurants on earth-the Berwyn Cafe, in College Park. It was great chatting with co-owner Kathy, and watching Seth fall head over heels in love with her and vice versa. I could totally go vegan if she and her husband, Tahl, would just move to Pittsburgh and cook for me everyday. Though Seth did not care for the hummus I tried to feed him- spitting the minute portion on his tongue half way across the room, while coughing so much I looked like a moron. I don't know, I guess I thought hummus might be a good starter food. Maybe not.
2. Buying Tom 13 fab dress shirts at the ol' thrift store on 450 then taking them to Zips for cleaning and pressing with heavy starch. I am certain that the mafia runs the dry cleaning business in the burgh because we can get shirts done for half the price in Maryland, not even mentioning that any garment is only $1.75 to dryclean. one of only a few things we miss about the D.C. area.
1. Listening to the Junkies morning radio show again- several guys from my graduating class in High School who have found amazing success with their sports talk show- they took over Howard Stern's time slot when he moved to Sirius. Mostly they gab about women, MILFs, sex, porn, male genitalia and other wildly inappropriate subjects, with some sports thrown in for good measure, but man, they make me laugh out loud and I REALLY miss their company in the car in the mornings (for instance, Johnny "Cakes" Auville, who had 3 years of English with me at Roosevelt, spent a good 15 minutes discussing the ins and outs of his size-compromised penis, while his wife, Amy, who was a sorority sister of mine at Towson University, phoned in to reassure all of us listeners and her hubby, that she sees no problems with his performance, as a result. Now, that is entertainment- and who knew I would one day be privvy to any of this info, while suffering through essay writing on the worst book ever written- Billy Budd- in Ms. Pohl's AP English class). If you are around my husband and I long enough, you will hear lingo we adopted from the Junkies-things like "hur-ting" and "money" as adjectives. We are dorks and so are they. Pittsburgh ain't got nothin' on the DC radio scene. For a few brief seconds, and I mean, BRIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEF, I contemplated moving back just to hear those guys on a regular basis again.

We are very happy to be home, where we belong, but these visits make us miss our remarkable friends and my parents so very very much.

or the crack pipe I've been smoking that caused me to convince my husband that our home was in need of another being... for all of you who just had a heart failure thinking I might yet again be with-child- don't get your panties in a wad. our newest family member is a kitty named Belle (actually it is "bell" as in jingle but I was trying to up the ante on the sophistication and make her French).
She is a beautiful spotted 2 year-old short hair whose owner died. We saw her today at Petco when we were shopping for some Christmas presents and were immediately taken by her hunger for affection when we approached her cage and her seemingly gentle spirit. She had been fostered up until recently and was noted to be very good with the other cats and children who lived in that home. We are going to try to ease her into becoming acquainted with Holly, our other cat, but we're hoping that they will become fast friends and the companionship will be beneficial to them both. So, here's to making a life a little better this holiday season- and here's hoping mine doesn't subsequently implode.

P.S. In case you were wondering, YES..my tree is still laying on the living room floor, as pictured in last night's blog. We've moved on people-!!!! besides, who needs a tree when you are busy adopting four-legged critters? Do you think my ADD issues are peaking?

This picture doesn't really need a caption, does it?



How about if a tree falls in your living room? Yup, that's right, in keeping with the usual "Sombar drama", just seconds after publishing my last post, portraying my world to be so serene and divine, my tree with all of its precious cargo came crashing down onto our hearth- destroying several of those ornaments I depicted as priceless....



What remains of one of my favorite ornaments- you almost have to laugh- this could not really have happened. Like a Horror Movie or something, eh?






What more can I say but "ugh." (actually I could say more, which I did while picking up the pieces of my fond memories, but I needn't go there again).

We finally got our tree yesterday and then put it up this afternoon. The plan had originally been to begin the festivities this morning, with hot chocolate, homemade cookies, caroles, and decorating, but there was a crisis involving the tree stand (in a nutshell- it broke, sending the tree on top of Tom, who was laying on the floor under it at the time). Shortly thereafter, Daddy and his three oldest offspring headed for Rolliers, the local hardware store, searching for a new stand. Long story short, we ended up being rescued by (no surprise here) our neighbor, Donna, who just happened to have an extra stand. The kids were so excited to see all the ornaments as they bounded back and forth from the dining room table, where they were laid out, to the tree, to hang them up. As I sat in a chair holding a rather cranky and Grinch Seth (teeth- its not his fault), I smiled, recalling how much I looked forward, every year, to the ritual of decorating the family tree- it certainly ranks high on the list of my favorite memories. Though there was never any real pomp n' circumstance involved, and it was only my mom and I (except for the year my friend Vicki lent a hand), the magic of the ornaments was so enchanting to me. It was as if they held, within them, all the memories of the year I'd first laid eyes on them- and I'd yell "Oh, I remember this one- I love this one, Mommy!!" or "This is my favorite ornament in the whole world!" And there were lots of favorites. How could there not be. Most of them my mom had handmade out of pipe cleaners or plain ornaments that she'd embellished with felt or pretty ribbons. Then there was the log cabin made out of toothpicks, and, in later years, the bread dough creations. I was lucky enough to inherit my mother's unique artistry, so now my family's tree is covered in much the same fashion. There are no fancy glass balls, bought by the half-dozen, or yearly themed decor; just our collection of homemade or somehow personalized ornaments-
each of which conjure up some of our most special moments- a candy-can striped "T" which I gave to Tom when we were first in love,
dough or ceramic black cats for each of the felines we've been lucky enough to love (and subsequently lose in different years)
,each child's "1st Christmas", walnuts made into miniature Santas from Tom's Grandparents who've passed away, a clothespin Santa bought from my Elementary School in the seventies- donated to me from my mom's treasure trove, along with some random Bob the Builders, Madelines, Mickey Mouse, and Winnie The Poohs. Compared to the displays of many in the neighborhood where we live, whose trees are exceptionally coordinated to match their walls and rugs, our collection may first appear to be somewhat tacky and unrefined. A closer look, however, and anyone could see that our lives are most sweetly represented on every branch and I would have it no other way. Thanks Mom for your lasting inspiration and thanks to my kids for keeping the sparkle alive.

Need some ideas for doing' a good deed? Here's my cool site pick for the week (thanks to Jen Lemen's IM):
Cool People Care. Org

Here's an idea for any of you who may be bummin' it on this very gray winter day: dance around your house with the kids (or pets) to your favorite Christmas tune. This afternoon, while folding and putting the laundry away, all four kids and I twirled through the kitchen to "Here Comes Santa Claus." Every once in a while I would throw in a "white girl's version of a soul sister's hip hop move" to shake things up a bit- much to the hilarity of my sons and the embarassment of Lily. Fa La La La La La La La La!

I struggle immensely with perfectionism and, what I assume, is a bit of OCD (obsessive/compulsive disorder for those of you unfamiliar with the term). Anyway, I have been making some small strides lately in overcoming my need for the sparkly abode- you know the one in the Pottery Barn catalogs with nothing out of place? My reality right now is that I can't be a good mother to my children and have the "Better Homes And Gardens" showplace. From the time I awake in the morning, to the time my head hits the pillow at night, I am parenting at least one child, if not all four. Parenting for me is an active verb- I'm not just present in the sense that they can see me or know I'm in the home. It generally means that I'm mindfully with my children, consciously participating in conversation,reading aloud, playing games, baking, or sometimes, when I've really got it together, I manage a bonding session of cleaning together (LOL). So, currently this amounts to the floors being littered with cereal and a strand or two of pasta from the other night's dinner. My counters are not shining from corner to corner, the pillows are rarely in place on the sofas, the dishes are stacked in the sink, not the dishwasher, and there are an eclectic mix of items spread throughout our house, where they don't belong. Maybe the truth is that I don't know what I'm doing and all six of us (well, not Seth, I suppose) are a bunch of slobs, and that's what I really need to be pointing to in this post. Either way, in an effort to get past this obstacle which prevents me, often times, from hosting people in our home for play dates and informal get-togethers, I decided, this week to just let it go. Today, a gal pal of mine, Kim, came over with her two little girls and I lifted not one finger to change the state of my surroundings. I didn't hurry-up and vacuum, sweep or mop. I didn't shovel clutter into dark corners or closets. I didn't make beds or even dry my hair (okay- I got a late start and by the time I was done nursing and putting Seth down, then cuddling with Ben, there was no time for such basic hygiene). And I didn't apologize profusely for any of the mess. I acknowledged its existence and went on to converse about more important things and, basically, left it at that. The earth didn't shake, my skin didn't break-out in a sweat, and Kim didn't seem the least bit bothered by the less-than-perfect appearance of me or my home. Do I feel good about the fact that my environment is trashed right now? No. Am I going to continue to work toward improvement in this area of my life? You bet. But I am going to try like hell to make sure that my relationships aren't postponed or pushed-aside so I can clean. And THAT, my friends, is a baby step in the right direction. Happy Friday!

Being a parent is hard. Not only from a physical perspective, where your kids have more energy at 6am than you do all day, or mentally, where you are constantly challenged to know how to best guide your children on their way, but spiritually, where you long to shelter these human beings that you love from any and all disappointments. Lily is struggling right now with an old friend of hers at school . As a mother, I long to just envelope her in my being, holding her tight against the angst that this girl is provoking within her. Yet, what I know in my heart is that what Lily needs right now is more objective advice that she can grow from- so she can learn the best way to navigate the rough patches that are inevitable in life. Lily sat down with me this evening and the conversation quickly turned from one of benign chit chat to a torrent of emotions- her pain pouring out of her in waves. As the tears streamed down her cheeks, she told of how this old friend has been manipulating her during recess everyday, yelling at her any time she tried to play with others, even her own brother (yes, she actually does apparently want to play with Liam, even at school!). She then proceeded to describe how mean this girl can be, when Lily appears to be spending time with her other friends, and how she even feels threatened because this girl is so much bigger than she is. I found myself wanting to tell her exactly what to do but stopping myself because I knew I needed to really listen to her and give her more of a reflection of her own feelings than those that are mine. We concluded our talk with the consensus that the school counselor needed to be involved-and though Lily was shouldering much of this herself, Tom and I would be advocating for her needs as she deemed necessary. Lily is such a light and easy-going person. What I want most for her is the ability to remain that way, as much as possible. Growing up is hard, isn't it?

Well, it was back to school for all the Sombar kids today(except ol' Sethy, of course). Liam was out for three days last week due to his pervasive ear infections and stomach issues. Benjamin, Seth and I began our day early, searching for some Christmas decor at Target and dropping off stockings to be embroidered at Barefoot Stitches. I splurged last year and bought everyone in our family quilted stockings from Pottery Barn, with names on them. Since Tom's father and stepmother will be spending Christmas with us again this year, I bought them each a stocking as well. We are looking forward to their visit- the kids love to wile away the hours with their "Poppy" while Rose and I bake, clean, reorganize, and gab. Rose is good at whipping things into shape, which is generally an area where I could use all the help I can get. I value her immensely because she has been a very staunch advocate for me, especially when the rest of my husband's clan seemed to be on a witch hunt where I was concerned. While I'm certain she doesn't agree with all of the parenting decisions Tom and I have made in the last decade, she does what all good parents do- she supports us and keeps the rest to herself. I am hoping to get some baking done ahead of time so I am not overwhelmed with meal preparation once they arrive.

I enjoyed having Benjamin along for my errands today- he's become more clingy as of late- I suspect due to some developmental milestones (he will be five next month) or anxiety over his increasing independence. He is a really good kid, though this fact at times becomes muddled by his rather vivacious spirit and occasional behavioral episodes. He really longs to be with me, in any capacity, and I've been striving to become more empathetic towards him and his needs. This can be a challenge when I feel so maxed but I find that including him, even in the most mundane of activities, will head off most acting out on his part, and helps me to see him in a better light more often. I think when you have a spirited child, you can find yourself forming general opinions about them and their behavior which have a real negative impact on your relationship. By working with him and meeting him where he is, emotionally, I feel less like I want to beat the crap out of him (LOL)and more like I can understand where he is coming from and walk a mile in his shoes. At almost five years old, Benjamin struggles greatly with feeling a lack of control over his daily choices and empowerment. It is very hard for him to hear that his ideas or desires are not convenient or possible and this tends to send him into a tail spin. I read recently, online, an opinion from a more veteran mother of sorts, that being a child is actually a much harder job than being a parent, due to the lack of power you have over your own life. I pondered this for a while last week, and I must admit, I think she's right. If given the opportunity to return to my own childhood, I would never take it because, as a grown-up, I can mold my life into what I want it to be rather than what others feel is best, etc. If I'm hungry I can eat what I want, when I want. If I need something new to wear because the clothes I have don't make me feel good about my body, I can go buy it. If I want to watch a movie at midnight, I can choose to do this and take full responsibility for how I feel the next day. So, from this perspective, it would seem that, as a parent, my job is not only to guide my children safely through their "growing-up" years, but to attempt to empower them the best way I can. I have been trying to see things from this side of the coin for about a week now and it has really been enlightening- the harder I work to enable them to achieve something they are reaching toward, the better I am at understanding their quirks and the more fun I have as a parent. This will be a life-long project for me but one that I think is really amazing to watch unfold.

On a final note, the kids and I worked for about an hour at our local library this afternoon, setting out all of our nativity scenes in the display case for the month. We all took great pains to arrange each one just so and I felt so proud to behold all of them- layed out for the community to see. Its so nice to have something you feel so passionate about that you choose to start a collection. I don't know- I guess it adds a little spark to your soul. I cheated a little and bought two nativities at the last minute, on Sunday, from the Fair Trade store in Squirrel Hill: a very unique piece from Malawi- carved solely from wood, and one from Nepal made from recycled textiles, bamboo, and wood.

All in all, it was a good Monday and I'm pooped.