I Should Be Popping Pills and Going to Sleep, But I'm Posting These Christmas Pictures Instead

This was Kyle's fourth Christmas, and Brady's second. Kyle's showing him the ropes, but then turning around and fighting him for them. There was a lot of wailing over the four day holiday weekend. Nonetheless, we indulged them in their present-unwrapping and pajama-wearing glee. See below.

Christmas Eve matching PJ's

Gratuitous remaining curly hair shot

After they went to bed, Santa came

With beloved snow globe and Grandma Bettie

World's cutest pianist

Ready for more!

Monkey/banana/space/soccer/animal quilt from Gramma

Look! Mommy exists!

Presents from Nana and Great Grampa

Binoculars from Uncle Mil, backwards.

Kyle discovers Santa's big gift, which he snuck into Kyle's room and set up during the 4-hour present-unwrapping marathon. Brady's expression says "Don't even THINK I'm not gonna try to get in on this action!"

Kyle helps Daddy unwrap his favorite present - the Sham WOW! (knockoff)

Brady finally gets the hang of this paper-ripping thing

He loves his ABC's for the bathtub.

Family band

Brady thinks outside the box and uses his ukelele as a wind instrument

Bedtime story.

Goodnight kiss.

Portrait of Grandma Bettie

Taken by Kyle with his new Kid Tough digital camera.

Boxing Day

Hello good people of the internet and beyond. I just changed out of my pajamas at 4PM. I didn't get as far as brushing my hair, but I did brush my teeth.

I spent the day sorting, cleaning, vacuuming, washing, uploading, downloading, fidgeting, fiddling, folding, putting-away, wiping, clothing, chasing, lifting, soothing, patting, singing, snacking, feeding, wiping some more...not to mention taking care of the kids.

I'm off to the mall for some post-Christmas shopping. I know, I know. But I didn't get a calendar for Christmas for the first time in about 16 billion years and that leaves me in the unprecedented position of being able to choose my own calendar for the first time. I'm not sure how I'm going to handle it. I'm bringing Brady with me for support.

And, once again, I'm testing this f*&^-ing Facebook feed. Can I just say that Blogger and Facebook and their unwillingness to work together can #suckit?

Happy Boxing Day.

Facebook Test

Hello Facebook!

Season's Greetings 2008: The Outtakes

Now here's a tradition I can really get behind.

Last year, I told you that we took 38 shots to get to our perfect Christmas card picture. This year with 2 extra-wiggly kids and a camera that does rapid-repeat shots, it was much, much more.

First, what everyone else saw:

The Official Prince Family 2008 Holiday Greeting Card Photos

Merry Christmas to you, all of my friends inside the computer. I continue to thank goodness that you are in here, reading, reacting, and following my (mis)adventures.

I noted in the past that I hang the design of the picture on a wardrobe choice, and this year it was the family four-pack of Johnny Cash T-shirts, gifts from Aunt Kathy & Sue's trip to Tennessee in the spring. It was only fitting, then, that Aunt Kathy herself took most of the photos that were up for selection for the card. I used three pictures this year because the obvious winner from the main shoot is the rare, never-before-seen shot of the little boys looking at each other lovingly. It lasted only one frame. But I wanted people to see their faces, so we had to add Kyle on the gee-tar and Brady's crazy pre-haircut hair.

And because I couldn't send out 70 photo books, I reserved the outtakes for you, my digital audience:

The Official Prince Family 2008 Holiday Card Photo Shoot Outtakes

Setting up the shot: The whole clan - our family of four, and Kathy, Uncle Steve, Nana, and Great Grampa all went to our favorite nearby park for this occasion.

It was late morning, so I thought the light would be perfect. Turned out there were crazy bright back-lit spot or dappled shady spots. Nothing was just right. We tried several.

Also, Kyle kept getting up and running away.



We eventually settled on the bench under the shady tree, with Aunt Kathy shooting from the sand below, which explains the big double chin effect on me. I sacrificed my vanity in the official photo for the sake of the boys' cuteness.

It was really hard to get them to sit still, look at the camera, and smile. And of course I made them do it a million times, then check the shots, then do it all over again. They were pretty testy. Luckily, we had lots of M&M's on hand.




For a certain series of shots, it looked like we were all having a great time:



It didn't last:


But luckily, we were able to put together a great set of holiday photos that, I feel, reflects our unique family personality. Thanks again to our beloved Aunt Kathy, the family archivist.

An Open Letter to Cancer

Dear Cancer,

I hate you.

Many hard feelings,

Kim Tracy Prince

Jinous Radfar (shown in 1998). Rest in peace, friend. I am lucky to have known you. Where else would I have learned (and forgotten) more than one Farsi word?

For the Record

1. I am going to stop calling the Gays "The Gays." I've been using that phrase facetiously for a while, sort of to mock the people who voted yes on Prop 8. But I am seeing that throwing it around is kind of like calling Ice Cube "Bro." And for the record, he does not like being addressed as "Mr. Cube."

2. I am not the kind of mom who comes home after a long day at work and driving through the rain, then does craft projects with her children and also prepares a healthy well-balanced meal for her husband. When I attempted to that tonight, child 1 ended up in a time out, child 2 climbed on the kitchen table to get to the scissors, and husband had 2 hot dogs, a leftover baked sweet potato, and a pile of defrosted edamame for dinner. It made me wonder, if I'm not good at these mommy and wife things, what exactly am I good at? I know, I know, I'm good at putting my foot in my mouth and talking my way into football games without a ticket, but even though I hold myself outside the pressure of being a Good Mom, I can't help feeling jealous when I ask my friend "watcha doing?" and she says "Making individual Florentine pizzas."

3. It is time to retire the once-black yoga pants from Express, circa 1997. Bleach spots, a frayed waistband, and now a hole have rendered them unfit for wearing outside the house. Kelli would be horrified to know that I have worn them to yoga class recently.

4. The above craft/dinner debacle made me whine, so Stewart brought me a beer. The beer gave me a headache, so I'm going to get some M&M's.

5. What's on your record?

Before and After

Heather Fish

My dear blogger friend Lisa, who made fabric baskets for me and MomHOP, finally opened an online store to hawk her wares. By blogging about this I am entered into a contest for a free drawstring pouch. You can enter too, see her website for details. She donates a percentage of her sales to charity. That's on top of her day job as a nurse who saves the children. It's a good cause.

The Gays Are Not Going To Hell, and Other Stories

Dear lovely churchgoing pals 'o mine:

I'm so glad I missed the anti-gay discussion at Jesus Moms' Club this morning. Part of me is a little bit sad that I missed it, actually, because maybe I could have added something to help open your minds a little bit. But lately I've been pulling in my sails and protecting my spiritual and emotional cargo, so to speak. Election season was hard enough. I don't know how persuasive I could have been against that kind of thinking. I like to think that it's okay for people to have their own opinions about things. Still, it's hard to know that people I admire and enjoy have such opposite attitudes about The Gays, whom I love and accept and applaud, not for their gayness, but because I know enough good, kind, smart, caring, and wonderful people who are also gay that I am convinced (not ever having to be convinced) that, like blind people and Mexicans, they are not bad people because they are different from me.

Having said all of that, thank you for your yummy snacks, cute babies, and excellent hugs.

Love, Kim

P.S. I know some of you may read this blog, and I hope you'll still talk to me when I show up again. After all, I don't consider you bad people because you think differently than I do.

---

Florinda has a guest post up at her blog by Karen Harrington, who writes about being a mom who writes. I've been struggling with this dual identity for...oh, three and a half years now. I am far from having a strategy, so I enjoy learning about other people's methods. Vicki Forman advised me to treat it like a job, i.e. get working at 9AM and save the housework for the end of the day. She spent a generous morning with me last week at Starbucks, where we worked, laptop-to-laptop, like Writers. It would have been great except my internet connection was mysteriously slow. Anyway, over at the The 3R's, there are many quotes and anecdotes about the painful condition of writing under the influence of parenthood. I dig this post.

"It would be so easy to think “Well, you are only writing for yourself. Can’t you do that later?” Yes, that would be easy to say. But if you want to write, you have to learn to say, “No, this is my job. People are counting on me. And most importantly, I’m counting on me.” "

---

Monday is Charity Day at Los Angeles Moms Blog, where, if my post makes the cut, you'll find me burying my head in the sand once again to avoid all the bad news about shit that people do to children. I won't go into it all again here. The point is that when I hear yet another story about a poor baby who was harmed by an evil adult (gay or straight, those are the people who should go to hell) I just want to squeeze my children and love them to infinity, and not ever have Bad Mommy moments and protect them from all harm forever and ever. I'm doing the best I can in that department, so I've been looking around for a way to share my surplus. It occurred to me as I wrote that post that I have people in the trenches - specifically, two of my friends are social workers with different child services agencies, and one of them works right on the front lines, removing children from dangerous family situations. Sometimes she'll take a child from its home in the middle of the night. The child will have nothing - no toys, clothes, or equipment. And guess what I have? Lots of extras of those things. I'll be wiping, washing, and boxing it all up to bring directly to her office, where it will all be used by the kids who really need it. Contact me if you have stuff, and I'll make sure it gets to her.

---

As Lisa Ling is to Oprah, so is my friend Stefanie to Dr. Phil. She was a special field correspondent for a story about "reborning," or a particularly creepy doll-collecting movement. She needs no pimping...this is purely for your entertainment.

---

Speaking of entertainment, remember when my husband forgot my birthday? He's taking suggestions for inexpensive thoughtful Christmas gifts for me at sprince@performancefi.com. Well...he is now. In honor of that event, Watch this movie. Seriously. It's funny.

Poof! You're a Travel Writer!

This is a picture of me and Kyle escaping the heat of the valley in summer 2006. We're in Santa Monica - you can see the pier in the background. I unearthed this photo when I was poking around in my archives for pictures of the beach to put in my first post for Uptake - the new most popular travel search website. I just got hired to write for the vacation blog and my territory is Los Angeles.

It happened with a whimper, not a bang. A few days after I signed my contract, I remembered that for years I've been dreaming of becoming a travel writer. I used to write long descriptions of my trips and email them to everyone in my address book, whether or not they wanted to read them. The discovery of blogging gave way to posts like this and this. Some things are made better because of the possibility of blogging about them.

I guess it's time to think of "blogging" as "writing." Because I'll be writing about travel, and someone will pay me. Dream come true. Follow me, won't you? And if you are going somewhere, look it up on Uptake. You never know what you'll find.

Thanks

Some pictures from the week surrounding Thanksgiving. Not many because of the events that took place immediately thereafter.

Kyle participated in a study about preschoolers' television watching patterns. There was no box for "watches TV all the time" on the paper survey, so they sent a researcher to the house. She played with Kyle using little household items from her box and talked and asked questions of him. He was a model subject, using the items to play in imaginative ways. I sat around the corner, listening. When the woman left, Kyle looked up at her with his big eyes and said "I love you" then gave her a big hug. He got a nifty magnifying glass in return and we'll be receiving an Amazon.com gift card and a set of "educational" DVD's.

Our perfect turkey, courtesy of MomHOP.

One half of the Honea family, our guests for the holiday. No photographic evidence of the adults to display here - just picture Whit sprawled on the couch with a beer in his hand, and Tricia helping me clean up toys in Kyle's room.

Random picture of Brady with yogurt smeared all over his face.

These were taken just before the cab picked up my mom and Dad. It doesn't matter how long they stayed or how soon we'll see them again. It's always hard to say goodbye.