A rain-soaked weekend was in the forecast, but we didn’t care, we were going camping, come headaches and hyenas wailing.  There were two issues before us, the first was our tent was still in WV, and second Whitewater State Park, the most suggested camping spot by several, was nearly booked up.  The Coleman Instant tent, “sleeps six”, had been sold out at the local Menard’s, and by golly, that was the one we were getting at a great sale price!  I called around and found one last remaining in Rochester.  That was just about ideal since we were headed in that direction.  Nikos tried his best to get out of camping, always referring to our finances and then trying to scare me with the ferocious thunderstorms that MN experiences.

I sent the kids to school on Friday morning, but promised to pick them up at 11:30/11:45.  After shuffling the kids out the door, I called Whitewater State Park and they had only two tent sites available, and the woman explained that it would be highly unlikely that they would still be open by 1:30, our expected arrival.  There was a second state park only eleven miles from Whitewater, and the bluebells were in full bloom and several spots still open-sounded good enough for us.

Nikos worked on the cooler, dug out the Coleman stove, and I packed, did laundry, and brought half of the kitchen.  Elizabeth had forgotten to hand in her early release note so Nikos had to wait a solid twenty minutes for her.  While Nikos waited at Nikolas’ school, the secretary said such sweet things about me, told Nikos that I was a “breath of fresh air” and how much they appreciated my help, I’m assuming with my sub teaching or by being on the graduation committee.  Regardless, that kind secretary’s generous words were much appreciated.  We all need to hear positive words every now and then, because our critical nature reminds us all too often of the many negatives we carry within us.

We still weren’t ready even after Nikos had picked up the kids.  I made biscuits and cut up some strawberries for lunch, Nikos did the dishes while I swept the downstairs.  It was a beautiful day, crisp air and plenty of sunshine.  While Nikos packed the truck, I stopped by the post office to mail out the paperwork for my summer Riverwalk Market Fair.  This would be the first time I’d be a vendor outside, something which intimidated me a little, being that thousands attend the market during the summer.  I was used to the casual indoor market. I also sent Jennifer some long overdue birthday gifts.  She’d sent some to my kids three months ago!   I stopped by McDonald’s and bought large sweet teas for both Nikos and me.  Sure I felt selfish not getting anything for the kids, but I’d already promised them drinks of their choice at our first gas station stop.  Finally, we rolled on out headed toward Rochester.

I was smiling, elated on that gorgeous and promising day to finally be going on a trip;  it could have been anywhere, it didn’t matter.  We stopped by the Rochester Menard’s, and out came Nikos carrying that brand new tent!  I felt as giddy as if he were carrying a giant wedding cake and a single fork.  Our next stop was Wal-Mart, and to ensure a brief trip, I promised to buy only four items.  Just before pulling into the parking lot, sat a veteran, with a sign asking for hot food.  While in Wal-Mart, Nikos wanted to get Katerina something, we always feel compelled to spoil that sweet little smiling munchkin.  We found a princess flashlight for a whopping seven bucks, it didn’t matter, Katerina loved flashlights, often lamenting her broken one we had to discard a few months ago.  We picked up some hearty tent stakes, coffee singles, and some chicken for the gentleman sitting outside.

Even though there was a line of cars behind us, with no place to pull over, Nikos stopped and ran over to the veteran.  He handed the gentleman some chicken and a cold Pepsi, patted him on the back and said, “Thank you, sir.”  The man looked up at Nikos, mumbled a thank you back and graciously accepted the simple fare.  The veteran looked over at us, and we all waved and smiled.  I looked back at Nikolas who had his face pressed up to the window, a sincerity about him that wet my eyes.  Nikos shook the man’s hand, there was no pity, only the utmost respect for a man who gave us reason to celebrate the upcoming weekend.  The gentleman before us should never be pitied, for pity creates a searing unforgettable pain  that empties oneself of strength and spirit.  As Nikos shook the man’s hand, there was a camaraderie, as I always say, we are all one and the same, and with that handshake, Nikos demonstrated the high regard he carried for the veteran.  This brief yet meaningful moment was another reason why I love my husband after all of these years.  We may bicker too much over senseless reasons, ignore each other as we get caught up in our own thoughts, and Nikos will never want to hike a volcano in Mexico with me, but before me, just outside of that parking lot in Wal-Mart stood a man whose gentle, humble  and compassionate heart, touched yet another life.  Nikos returned to the truck with tear-glistened eyes,  looked into my own teary ones, and we both smiled.  The line of cars behind us were decent enough to patiently wait without honking their horns.  I quietly mentioned to Nikos that we could instead drive to the Badlands, the other direction, and surprise the kids.  Nikos turned west on I-90.  It was a long drive ahead.

When we stopped for gas, I noticed a McDonald’s attached to a Chinese restaurant!  I don ‘t know, I thought that was such a big deal.  After two hours, the kids began to question why it was taking so long to get to the campground.   It didn’t take long for my Geography smarty pants Elizabeth to begin noticing towns and state parks, and the fact that they were located in the western region of Minnesota.  As Elizabeth insisted on interrogating us, my irritation level steadily increased and I realized surprising the kids had grown significantly more difficult as each year passed.  A few years ago, we awoke the kids up at five in the  morning and told them we were taking them out for breakfast before school.  It was still dark of course and those sweet little sleepyheads were already protesting saying how they shouldn’t eat McDonald’s, that the food was fake, and why were we driving to the one all the way in Charleston.  We bought our fake food and as the sun had risen, we announced that we were headed to Myrtle Beach, SC.  The kids still talk about that surprise.

The kids had had enough after four hours.  Nikolas said he never wanted to go back to the campground in which we were headed.  Elizabeth adamantly expressed that we were indeed going the wrong way, that such and such place was nearly on the border of South Dakota.  Finally, and I mean FINALLY, we crossed the South Dakota border, and yelled out our traditional, “Bye bye Minnesota, hi South Dakota!”  Oh my, that was fun!  Nikolas gasped, Katerina was clueless just happy to be on a trip,  and Elizabeth was yelling that we were crazy and Nikos and I were thrilled to have barely pulled off that one.

Along the interstate, there was a sign for Cascade State Park.  Nikos called while driving on the gravel road and there was one tent site left.  He took eight years chatting with the ladies in the office.  They were laughing and I knew Nikos was enjoying that attention.  My stomach was growling and the kids were as ancy as a kid about to pee their pants to get out of the car.  After no less than twenty-seven minutes, Nikos had his bunch of firewood and we drove around the park to find our campsite.  There were two sites with one picnic table and we were confused.  Finally, we took the one next to our number because we wanted the table.  Nikos put up the tent in five minutes (it’s an instant tent)  and had begun dinner.  Nikolas was thoroughly disappointed that I wasn’t making his favorite food, roasted corn.  I explained far too many times that it would mean dinner would be at ten and he’d be sleeping.  Elizabeth and Nikolas ran off in two different directions through the woods and down to the creek.  Elizabeth was first to come and tattle on Nikolas, said he was in the creek with his shoes on.  There was no time to dig him out of the muck nearly a half mile down through the woods, I needed to get dinner over with before it was dark.  Katerina remained near me, singing, playing with her beloved new flashlight, and thrilled to be camping.  That was right about the time when three different rangers pulled up, plus a family.  The one dude even had his ranger light twirling blue for added dramatic flair.  The one who thought he was a star on “Cops” told us we needed to move our tent because we were on the family’s site which had been reserved.  Nikos explained that we were already set up and the only reason we had parked it in the spot is because we didn’t know which one had been our site since the other hadn’t a table.  The pregnant wife told her husband she wouldn’t make us move since we had kids.  We thanked the family several times, and they had serious attitude, but at least the woman had been gracious and understanding.

Nikolas arrived with mud covered shoes that reached his knees.  I ordered him to clean his legs in the bathroom and threatened him to just try and step into that brand new tent.  Elizabeth basked in the glow of being “the good kid who only had a little mud on her” for a few minutes.  On a whim, I’d bought a can of cheese.  My kids had never had this novelty.  I made little cracker sandwiches and the kids munched and tilted their heads trying to decide if they liked it.  Elizabeth immediately remarked, “Mama, canned cheese just isn’t right.  I’m done.”  Katerina liked it and licked the cheese from each cracker while Nikolas said, “Um Mama, this cheese is glowing and definitely not a keeper.  Sorry”.  I used to think canned cheese was the best invention when I’d discovered it as a teen, and well, it was pretty nasty.

Cheeseburgers and hot dogs were for supper and we had s’mores and cookies for dessert.  It was a wonderful evening, but the most uncomfortable night of sleeping in a long, long while.  Tent sleeping takes some getting used to and my hips hurt regardless of how many times I turned.  The kids fought over blankets until finally at three in the morning I had to yell at Elizabeth to shut up before she awakened the entire campground and she was wailing that I favored Nikolas, and it was ugly.  It was one frigid, frustrating and fitful night.

Awww, the sun hadn’t yet risen, I shuffled out of the tent and enjoyed my favorite part of the day.  I made a small fire out of scattered twigs and it didn’t take long for Katerina to scramble out and peer with squinted eyes.  I ran over and held my sweet baby in the camping chair and we watched the sunrise together.  That blissful perfect moment was the reason why I have chosen to subject myself to uncomfortable tent sleeping hundreds of times.  Katerina shivered even with a blanket draped around her until I had her collect twigs, a task she was delighted to do.

Breakfast was simple, donuts and fruit.  I was nosy and gazed at the young couple with their adorable toddler.  The mom was pregnant and I remembered camping while pregnant and how awful it had been up in Nova Scotia with two inches of rain in our tent.  Still,  I felt nostalgic, sad that the kids were already so big.  The mom was cooking while the dad  played with his little girl.  I wondered how many kids they would end up having.

Nikos packed up the tent and we were out of the campground by 8:30, just stopping by the restrooms to brush our teeth.  The sun was bright as were our moods, except I needed coffee more than I would a lost wanderer in the Sahara Desert catching mirages of water.  There was yet another McDonald’s attached to a Chinese restaurant.  That just seemed so strange to me, and my warm cup in my hands tasted alright to me.

We rolled into Mitchell by nine something.  The morning was fresh and clean, and there was already a crowd inside the Mitchell Corn Palace.  Every single time we have visited the Mitchell Corn Palace, it is baffling how much the town has changed since I was a kid.

I’m telling you there was nothing back then, except that huge and very cool corn palace.  We took our pictures and went to the the center where the trinkets were.  All Nikolas had talked about was corn.  He planned on buying four ears and I told him he could start with three.  That boy loves corn as much as ” I do” wedding cake.  I ended up buying the kids popcorn flavored lollipops that looked like corn.  They were cute and cheap.  I love the corn palace.  It’s not a long stop, and I enjoy the echo-whisper inside.  We walked around and steered Katerina away from the breakables and pretended to laugh when Nikolas put goofy corn hats on because I couldn’t help thinking about cooties, Elizabeth was off looking at fake gold jewelry and I already had dished out my “no”s.

As we walked down the hallway looking at the parade of pictures dating all the way back to the early 1900′s, I was suddenly and powerfully hit by the notion that we’d been waiting for Katerina, our  little golden piece of sunshine.  The corn palace whispers in its echoes the many lives which have swept through its doors.  Visiting as an eleven year old, thirty-two and in between until now at forty, ushering a young Elizabeth and a boy in diapers, here I was in that moment realizing that Katerina had been a presence before she ever existed, a reminder that she’d be in our lives.  I’d waited all of these years and had already visited with Katerina twice before, but only presently, had the stark realization occurred to me-our sweet family had been waiting for Katerina, even missing her until she graced our lives.  Now our family was complete and it was a wonderful feeling to fully grasp, each of our children so dearly and deeply adored.

On the way out, Nikolas was so disappointed that the stand hadn’t any corn.  He was close to tears, poor thing.  They had just opened for the season two days prior, and were still getting things in motion.  Nikolas asked frustratedly, “How can the Corn Palace not even have any corn?!”  We stopped at a park and the kids played at the playground for thirty minutes and then to Wal-mart where I bought a rotisserie chicken, Hawaiian sweet rolls, and some pasta salad.  I couldn’t wait to go on a picnic at a rest area.  I know I’ve mentioned my love of rest areas many times, but they are usually part of my best travel memories, and my very favorite place to picnic.  There is always the East Indian family with their containers of yummy goodness.  Just once, I’d love to join them for some of my favorite food.  They know how to have a picnic!

It was windy, beautiful and as perfect a day as I could imagine.  South Dakota rest areas are a must stop.  Many have the huge pillars resembling a tipi, and often you will find a tiny church tucked back by a field.  Those churches are so cute and miniature, they could even beckon the orneriest inside.  We chose a partially shaded picnic table and enjoyed our lovely lunch.

We skipped and Nikolas jumped as high as he could to catch leaves dangling from the trees and hadn’t a chance of reaching one. Then the monkeys wanted to climb a tree and I wondered why they’d chosen one of the smaller ones.

Nikos pretended to walk up to the East Indian family and ask to be in their family-no joke!-they were at the rest area and I could imagine some spicy malai kofta!  The tiny church was on the other side of the rest area, and a tractor grumbled far behind it.  The sweet little church smelled musty inside, with carpet and even stained glass windows.  Elizabeth and then Nikolas read their favorite passages from the bible and they had taken it seriously.  Nikolas has mentioned that he might be a preacher in addition to being an inventor, marine biologist and working at Dairy Queen so he could have all of the free ice cream he desired.  Watching him read and holding the Bible up on the one step altar, I could entirely see it.

I felt like lingering a bit longer at the rest area.  It would soon be left to a sunshiny memory, accompanied by pangs of nostalgia.  Those pangs can be powerful, so much that I don’t like videos and it’s difficult to even go through pictures.  Our lunch had been beautiful, the kids always goofy and giggling, and just before we left, Nikos walked too closely to the Indian family and their feast.  I pressed my lips together and bugged out my eyes which encouraged Nikos further.

Nikolas was ready to dig into that corn-looking lollipop and Katerina, always willing to share let me try hers.  Elizabeth wanted to save hers for her trip to Valley Fair with her school.  That lollipop was too yummy, tasted like sweet buttery caramel!  It took close to forty-five minutes when Katerina said, “My belly hurts” and handed me the lollipop.  Would you believe it made me sickish as well and I couldn’t even finish it?   Nikolas wanted to save his as well.  I figured that candy was a good buy!

I managed a wide-mouthed nap, meaning I was so tired my head lobbed back and forth until it was perched just so that my mouth was open.  Those are the naps when you are so tired you could catch flies.  Nikos was jealous and pulled off at a rest area to get his nap in.  We took our potty breaks and then walked against the powerful wind while yet propelled by the brilliant blue sky to a gorgeous view of the valley below.  There were signs warning to stay on the path and to watch for poisonous snakes.  First, I need to interject and explain that the correct term is venomous.  Poisonous refers to what you ingest, and I doubt there are many out there who enjoy eating snake meat.  By some miracle, Nikos showed up!  I was nearly giddy for him to come and see the view and impressed that he had awakened on his own.

The drive along I-90 is long and tiresome, the billboards dotted throughout simply don’t offer enough entertainment.  Our stop at this particular rest area lent rejuvenation to our boredom and fatigue.

Are we there YET?????

Nikos threatened to throw that thing out the window if Nikolas blew on it again that way. I packed a lunch and some extra cinnamon streusel muffins I’d baked for breakfast. I’d be a big ol’ cheater if I allowed you to believe that I’d whipped those muffins up from scratch. I used a box straight from Duncan Hines and they were scrumptious. I love packing lunches for our trips. I feel like such a resourceful mom, those feelings of smugness could never be conjured up at a drive thru.

We’d driven up the hill from our house and Nikolas was asking if it was time to eat lunch. We left at 10:09 and it was 10:12 when Nikolas asked about lunch. The weather was dreary and blustery which made for a cozy drive. My heart was heavy for a dear family, which prompted an hour long speech with all of the wisdom and sincerity I could muster about drugs and the ramifications of that choice if they even so much as ever tried them. Naturally, Katerina was far too young to be getting anything from the conversation so she played in her imaginary world with her pink polka -dotted elephant. Nikolas stared with wide eyes and Elizabeth was aggravated that I’d feel a need to discuss the topic since she knew she would never do anything like that. Nikos felt I was a little dramatic and possibly I was sharing too much info with them. Sometimes being a mother, I have my back up against the wall. My heart hurts for a family going through unimaginable grief presently, I love my kids beyond the universe, and I’m trying to keep them safe to the best of my ability, against a dangerous world.

When we stopped for gas, a McDonald’s was beside us. Elizabeth was grounded from any drinks (I know it’s absolutely the dumbest notion ever) besides water and milk. Elizabeth’s punishment was for back-talking, which had caused her to be grounded from the computer, TV which she doesn’t even watch, and I couldn’t think of any other punishment, except I knew she was obsessed with Gatorade/Powerade. I’d promised Nikolas and Katerina that they could get Shamrock milkshakes, which caused an all out upheaval of war cries from Elizabeth. My mama guilt took over and I mouthed to Nikos while Elizabeth would not cease from protesting, that we could get her an ice cream sundae. We both were happy to somehow give our dramatic fourteen year old something yummy without caving in and neglecting her punishment. Nikos ordered my sweet tea, and as he was ordering the shamrock shakes, Elizabeth yelled out the window as obnoxiously as a teen could, “Three shamrock shakes!” Oh, I was enraged! I told the very confused guy on the speaker that we only wanted two while yelling at Elizabeth that she just lost her chance of having an ice cream sundae so she then proceeded to yell “one ice cream sundae”, and Nikos was telling the poor chap the correct order minus the sundae, until finally he had us pull up to the window. It was a typical Stoufis drive-thru disaster, and we’ve had many. The good thing, is we didn’t live in that town. It was an awful thirty minutes, keeping Elizabeth away from Nikolas’ and Katerina’s milkshakes, and dealing with her accusations of favoritism. Again, my back ached from being up against that perpetual wall.

We cruised right into Sparta, the bicycling capital of America. Nikos checked us in at the Country Inn and left me with some cash in case we needed to eat dinner without him. I’d looked up on Trip Adviser to see the recommended restaurants, and fortunately, the number one out of six was directly adjacent to our hotel. The sign simply said “Restaurant” so this became our joke for the next twenty-four hours, especially for Nikolas. Nikos had to drive another thirty miles back to work. I stalled around, while Nikolas was jumping up and down with impatient ants in his pants to go swimming. We had several hours to kill, and there was nothing on TV except for depressing eighties movies and sports. We went downstairs to check out some books offered on the bookshelf, and I read several to the kids. I felt relaxed and content with my sweet youngins’, this simple afternoon while we gazed out at the snow now mixed with rain as it pelted the window.

Katerina had insisted on taking her Ariel mermaid without the fish tail (it had long since been broken off) and sand pail down to the indoor pool. Only a grandfather was there with his grandson, passing a water ball. He was a patient man, who knows how long he’d been playing that game and he was there the entire hour that we swam. Grandparents such as he are lovely and remarkable people.

I threw that broken Ariel for Elizabeth and Nikolas to compete to catch it, usually Elizabeth won. They did a few races, again, Elizabeth came out victorious. I remember well, my brother Erik always won too. I worked on teaching Katerina to swim and she was a very good little listener. None of the three kids have been natural swimmers. It had taken Elizabeth and Nikolas a good while to swim without fear. I remember Elizabeth was four and I’d taken her to swim lessons. She was stuck to the wall like Spider-Man, and I literally had to peel her off and drag her kicking and screaming to step foot in the water. Fear is powerful, however, the ability to swim isn’t an activity, it’s a potential life-saving necessity.

After a peaceful hour, in came about twenty or so rowdy kids, splashing us with one cannonball after another. The grandfather got out just as soon as they came in. The parents were sitting in the pool chairs, and all of them were wearing hockey hoodies with their team name on the front. They didn’t bother me, but I am uncomfortable in a crowded pool. I guess my kids are as well because, before I could even say it was time to go, all three climbed out of the pool. I had to take, actually pry away Katerina’s sand pail from a little girl which made her cry, and we shivered back up to the room.

Just as soon as I’d replaced the phone back on the receiver after Katerina talked to her imaginary phone buddy for thirty minutes, the phone rang. Nikos had been trying to reach us and had called over to the restaurant to look for us. I told him to come on back and we’d eat together. Nikos was a mess. He’d forgotten his steel cores and that had been the entire reason for our trip. He wanted to go back and warned me he’d be a big grouch if we didn’t go home so he could look for them. Nikos was afraid he’d accidentally discarded the cores while he was cleaning out his factory. I told him there was no way on earth I was going to pack up and go after dinner and he’d just have to have some faith that he’d find them the following morning when we left.

We walked over to the “Restaurant” and it had an old-fashioned New Jersey diner feel and look to it. Our waitress was friendly and patient when I asked her if the chicken tenders were homemade, if the fries were from scratch, etc. After she’d left, Nikos told me I had to be one of the most annoying customers in history. My salad was nothing more than iceberg lettuce with store-bought ranch dressing. Then came the bread, the best part of dinner. That bread and butter was warm and wonderful! Nikos had country fried steak, I had the disappointing eleven dollar prime rib (the most expensive menu item), both Elizabeth and Nikolas had the large orders of ribs which neither were able to finish, and Katerina had breakfast. I was so jealous of Nikos’ yummy country fried steak, and he knew I wanted to trade. The problem was, it’s the same just about every time we go out for dinner, and he wasn’t trading this time. Nikos gave me a decent piece with gravy, and I gave him nearly half of mine, but by that time, he’d already finished.

The table behind us was staring a little and I gave them the wide-eyed stare at you right back look. Then our server was chatting with them and telling the woman that she needed to stop by the following week to get her roots done, eyebrows waxed, and a few hi-lights, because she was going to Florida in two weeks. I almost brought back a piece of carrot cake until I noticed the raisins in it, so I opted for a piece of french silk pie, which was as close to being homemade as an artificial Christmas tree.

While we were walking back to the hotel, Nikolas was racing with Elizabeth and before I could warn them, “Be careful! You could—”, Nikolas slipped on his back, water soaked through his coat, pants and undies. Just one minute later, Elizabeth slipped and fell in the front entrance of the hotel. Could the thirty second walk grow worse? In the hallway, was the most pungent smell of vomit I’d ever encountered. Yes, someone had thrown up in the hallway, and it wasn’t from the Stoufis clan.

Nikos was stewing and brewing saying he was going to load us up in the car and drive back and I put my jammies on and told him there was more of a chance of running into Bob Barker than me agreeing to get out of bed and into the car. Nikolas and Katerina had fallen asleep within three minutes, but Elizabeth stayed up with us and watched the Food Network channel.

Due to daylight savings, I was up at 5 am on the nose, and begged Nikos to hop downstairs and get me two cups of weak coffee. That took fifteen minutes, because he told me I should give up coffee, that there was no need for it. Pshawww! He fell back to sleep for two more hours but not before reluctantly bringing me my coffee. This is exactly how we’ve been for all of these years. It’s an expectation. Nikos takes his dirty clothes to the laundry room at home, I do all of the laundry, he takes out the trash, I pack the kid’s lunches, he gets my coffee at the hotel. Period. Immediately after Katerina awakened, she begged to go swimming and had begun putting her wet swimsuit on over her jammies. There was no chance I’d go swimming that morning.

We checked out the free breakfast offered and unanimously agreed that we’d go back over to The Restaurant for just about the best breakfast I could remember eating. Just in case you ever happen to visit Sparta, Wisconsin, the cozy diner is called, “Sparta Family Restaurant”. Some of the food is not so great being that it isn’t homemade, but if you order breakfast, you will fill your tummies up with some wonderful homemade goodness, and the biggest portions you’ll likely come across.

Just before leaving town, I insisted that we take a picture of the largest bicycle statue in the world.

The drive home was just okay but Nikos was a grump and grew more on my nerves as each mile passed. Then we hit a snowstorm which continued the entire two and a half hours back. Just as soon as we made it home, Nikos rummaged through the garage and found those blasted cores. He gave quick hugs to the kids, we were still mad at each other, and he headed right back to the factory, two hours away, to make those cams. That particular snowstorm caused the schools to close for the first time this year, and Northfield NEVER cancels schools. They take pride in that fact. Nikos didn’t come home until two in the morning, and when I heard that door downstairs open and his familiar foot steps, I exhaled a breath of relief. Nikos mentioned the following morning that there had been car accidents all over the place.

Meanwhile, as an apology of being a grumpy and difficult hubby today and last night, Nikos dedicated the following song to me. Nikos said when he thinks of our relationship this song reminds him of us and our lives together. We are simply two goofy people trying our very best as we travel through many obstacles, yet we somehow manage a long-lasting love and friendship.

Not exactly related but fascinating to me is that I am distantly related to the Hatfields. The following was taken from a post I found on facebook. I cannot take credit for the following except that I was wasting time on facebook, but happened across something amazing.

Hundreds gather at the home of Anderson “Devil Anse” Hatfield upon his death by pneumonia at age 81 on January 6, 1921. Hatfield led a peaceful life in the 30 years following the end of the famous feud and was baptized in Big Island Creek where he made his home in September, 1911. Local legend held that the creek boiled upon his baptism.

My mom was overly excited; as peppy as I am when I get a new dance recital costume. She would not stop talking about how much fun Katerina would have, and Daddy said he didn’t want to go if Mama was going to be overly controlling about how he should act and dress, and everything else, because she wouldn’t be at the dance herself.

Mama also called the dance “the royal ball” when she talked about it with Katerina.  Mama’s excitement sure worked on Katerina, who had put her black and pink dress on early in the morning and never took it off, except that she had put it on backwards.  Mama never changed the dress around until the dance just in case Katerina had spilled lunch or dinner on it.

Mama really likes pinterest and has been making new recipes from it.  The night of the dance, she was making some weird Korean recipe but it was actually really good.  You can imagine how stressed she was as she was cooking and saw the time on the oven, “6;30″!  She then remembered the dance started at 6 and was all worried but she also took 1,000 pictures, it seemed, then rushed us out the door.

When we arrived at the dance, which was sponsored by the YMCA and in the armory, the people were doing waltz steps and I sat and took pictures, because it was sweet.  They started playing music and all the girls and dads started dancing and I did too. After that we ate cake, and I was really full, because it was so delicious, I ate three pieces. They started playing fast music and everyone started dancing. During the next song all of the dads began throwing their girls in the air and catching them. It seemed as if it was a contest to see who could do the most tricks with their daughter. Then Daddy threw Katerina really high, and that was cool, but I hoped he didn’t drop her.  All of the dads were throwing their daughters as high up in the air as they could and I thought that was a little dumb but also very funny, because they were grownups.

All the people were dressed up and it was elegantly decorated for the occasion. It was funny when Daddy pointed out some girls who were about 7 or 8, wildly dancing to the music and said they will be like me. That made me laugh. Everyone was dancing and so was I, even though I was staring at Katerina, because she was haphazardly running around the gym with a little friend about her age. Then she went up to her dad, thinking she was inconspicuously  hiding behind him and screaming and they went to dance together so they knew each other pretty well apparently.

After about six more songs it was time to go, but not before we picked up a corner piece for Mama. This was a nice event, and Katerina peacefully slept when we got home. I thanked Mama for making me go, and Daddy for taking us.  It was fun after all!

I had driven to St. Paul while Nikos had a date with his phone on the drive up.  St. Paul is rather far from us, a good forty minutes.  The traffic was absolutely chaotic, and being that I’m more of a Sunday driver scenic byway girl at heart, I felt uncomfortable driving.  Parking signs were everywhere “$20 Park Here”.  I’m also a highly stubborn girl and I was not about to spend anywhere near that price.  I had driven only three blocks from the mayhem and found a spot, but I stink at parallel parking.  I’ll give that one to Nikos, he IS  much better at parallel parking than I ever in ten lifetimes will be.  That is the ONLY thing he’s better at, well okay, and computers too. Okay, last concession, he is far far better with engines and cars and anything electronic-done!   I managed and parked a little crookedly, feeling exuberant that I only had to pay the meter one buck.

The Winter Carnival is not in just one place, rather components of it are found in both St. Paul and Minneapolis.  I felt like I was at a freezing regatta back in Huntington, WV.  It was crowded, the food vendor trucks however, offered some imaginative and unique options.  We didn’t indulge, in spite of the kids nearly yanking off our coats begging.  The ice sculptures were super cool!  We’d also planned on going to a walk-through ice castle only it was all the way by the Mall of America in Bloomington.  I wish I could have gone having never seen an ice castle in person.

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We walked around and I was a little put off by the huge crowd, but we were there at least and I expected bumped shoulders and waving gusts of second-hand cig smoke out of my face.  The history of how a carnival king is selected is interesting.   This even began in the late 1800′s as a rebuttal against the NY journalist who had claimed that St. Paul was “another Siberia, unfit for human habitation in the winter.”  The chamber of commerce wanted to demonstrate that the city of St. Paul, at the time being one of the fastest growing cities in the US was thriving and very much alive during the winter months.  Therefore,  in February of 1886, the first winter carnival began in St. Paul.  I recommend that you check out the history of the carnival  which can be found  Wikipedia.  There’s no sense for me to reiterate the same information, but the carnival is an important cultural component of the twin city area, and responsible for bringing in millions in revenue annually.

The Winter Carnival parade happened to begin while we were there, so we found an area on the busy sidewalk, and a kindly lady made room for my kids to stand in the front.  The parade was different and definitely not my style.  I much prefer the small town almost homespun parade, with high school bands passing through, dancers and majorettes smiling down the road and more of a community-based feel.  Frankly, we simply didn’t have enough comprehension of the carnival to grasp who all of the various groups and orders were.  While we shivered from our head to our numb toes, we appreciated as well as rest of the crowd when different parade floaters let out enormous blasts of heat from what looked like a hot air balloon furnace.  I warned the kids several times not to run out into the parade to gather the candy being thrown.  I contained a gush of pride as they were being good little listeners while the dad beside me was close to yelling at his daughter to get out there and grab it.  I never remember candy being thrown during a parade when I was a kid.  I don’t like it because it takes away from the parade and evolves into a focus only on gathering as much candy as pockets can hold.

Eventually, the kids wanted to leave, we were all close to a teeth-chattering stage, and we began our “excuse me” and squeezing three quarter of a mile walk back to the car.  Just as were were about to cross the street, I realized that Nikos wasn’t with us.  We had to go all the way back and we never found him.  I was warmed up with frustration, I mean my three kids managed to follow, what was wrong with Nikos?!  I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again, the guy has a horrible sense of direction and I knew he would have a difficult time remembering where the car had been parked.  Then, wait and see, he’d blame it on me because I’d driven and parked which would be his excuse for not finding it.  Nikos had the keys of course, because I don’t ever carry a purse, never will, and I don’t have a cell phone.  I don’t want a cell phone, I think texting is the absolute most atrocious form of social connection as well as extremely dangerous while driving.   I can assure you that I’m home and up before 8, and always home by 8 at the latest.  Give me a call and we’ll have something I fear may become obsolete in the future, it’s called a good old-fashioned conversation.  With that said, it would have been handy to have a cell phone on me while Nikos was lost.  We headed all the way back to the car, and Nikos was miraculously there. I’d say that little escapade had the kids and me walking almost two miles.  That’s tough on a little just turned four year old in close to zero temperature!   Yes, he’d been lost. but he obviously managed. I couldn’t do much hen-hawing due to my chattering teeth, but he had the heater running full blast and told me that he’d been stopped by a guy selling hats and couldn’t break away. All I replied was that the three kids were able to follow me just fine.

Next stop was Groth Music and my little budding musician couldn’t wait!  First, we stopped at McD’s for some sweet tea and hot chocolate for the kids.  It felt close to luxurious getting away from that carnival.  Groth Music has been in business since 1939.  It’s the largest music store in Minnesota.

The staff was very helpful and polite.  We promised Nikolas that we’d return in a week to get his snare drum repaired and he wanted to buy a snake chanter with his itchy pockets, from his allowance.  The kids were allowed to play the huge variety of instruments and it was a very pleasant experience, hanging out there for a good hour.  Nikolas did pretty well on the Yukele, and Elizabeth surprised me that she could play the piano.  She told me that they had been working on it in her music class at school.  Nikolas is clearly talented with musical instruments, and I have to admit not one drop of it came from me.  Nikos plays the guitar and has helped teach Nikolas over the years. We bought Katerina an egg rice shaker. She’d dug way down deep for the only blue egg, her favorite color of the day.

We piled in the truck and slammed the cold out of the doors as best we could.  Nikos suggested that we eat in Minneapolis and I told him I was ready to head back to Northfield, and save some money on dinner.  We ate at B&L Pizza, ordered breadsticks with alfredo (Elizabeth was miffed because we didn’t order a second bowl of alfredo), pizza of course, and some french fries with their homemade ranch dressing.  I know, we triple starched our meal, but you would understand if you joined us for dinner sometime there, it’s WONDERFUL!  The waitress who knows us by now, had never been to the Winter Carnival.  This surprised me.  It felt good to be back in cozy Northfield in our familiar pizza place.  I realized while we were squabbling with Elizabeth to not be so greedy with the alfredo sauce and I was irritated that Nikos eats four fries at a time while I eat only one, and Katerina fell off of the step from our circular table smack on the floor, and Nikolas was already begging to go back to Groth Music, that Northfield was a calming place, we were beginning to feel like it was home.

The twin cities offer a great deal in terms of museums. We still have yet to visit the Museum of Natural History and the well-known art institute, however, we’ve visited a handful of some of the most creative, hands-on and interesting museums that we have been fortunate enough to check out.

The museums we’ve visited are: Mill City, The Works, the Children’s Museum,the Science Museum, The Northfield Historical Society Museum and the History Center. In some of my previous blog entries back in the summer, you will find our experiences at the Children’s Museum, Northfield Historical Society Museum, as well as the Science Museum.

I’d like to first mention our visit to the Northfield Historical Society Museum back in the summer. Nikos was working so I threatened the kids, “Don’t touch ANYTHING!” and also bribed them with a box of popcorn at the nostalgic popcorn cart after our tour. This museum was a genuine treat! Serving as the docent was a girl in her teens, articulate and well-informed as she had taken us through the museum retelling the story of the Jesse James raid gone awry. The First National Bank of Northfield had been the last bank that the Jesse James Gang had attempted to rob, and the community members had been responsible for interrupting the raid. The beauty of the museum was that we were standing in the actual bank where the raid had taken place! As usual, I could have remained in the museum ogling over the pictures and documents for an additional two hours, but my three year old’s pent up rowdiness was about to become unleashed. After dishing out “no” two hundred and thirty times at the gift shop, and escaping with only a three dollar magnet purchase, we sat by the fountain and ate the best popcorn in the world. The couple working at the popcorn cart was as sweet as our time spent gazing at the 19th century buildings of downtown Northfield. The lovely town can bring any history lover satiation. I’m looking forward to writing an article after checking out the annual, “The Defeat of Jesse James Days” this September. We’d moved here on September 10, 2012, and therefore, had missed the occasion.

The Works was cool and small enough to only spend at most two hours, and therefore not consuming the entire day.  I liked the owner, I believe her name was Beth or Betsy. She was informative of the cities, and had given me some extra places to check out. The Works was an interactive, engineering/designing kind of place.

While I am mentioning engineering/designing, I felt that Nikolas’ Lego club at the library had kicked things up, I just love that Nikolas and the other kids have such an opportunity!

Design can be expressed in countless ways.

A new exhibit had been completed at the History Center, and wow, what an amazing job they had done! The particular wing covered the Dakota history and early settler life. There was a cool and creative coal mine to walk through, complete with a dynamite simulator. Nikolas was glued to that pump for an hour, while Katerina was screaming and terrified, begging to get the heck out of the place.

The History Center is my favorite museum here in MN thus far. Often, there are special events in which the kids can make crafts related to an historical event. Once during Dakota days, there were special guests of the Dakota nation giving compelling presentations and some awesome activities for the kids. One exhibit was the Dakota War of 1862. I knew quite a bit of the dark history and atrocious treatment of the first natives of this area, as well as the rest of the US, long before visiting this exhibit. Yet to see the pictures, the letters, the complete and more objective collection of this tragic war and shameful part of history, a part of my heart was left for the abused Dakota nation, aching for those deceased, betrayed, neglected, murdered, who essentially yearned only for autonomy and a continuum of their livelihood. I left that exhibit wiping tears and with a tremendous feeling of heartache.

The Mill City Museum is another must-see. What had begun back in the 1870′s as the world’s largest flour mill, owned by Washburn, changed hands over the years and the sign, Gold Medal Flour still boldly stands.  Flour dust is combustible and in 1878, an internal fire killed approximately 18 employees.  This disaster had sparked the invention of giant ventilators and a focus on improved sanitary practices.  The mill in 1965, owned by General Mills, closed its doors.  The building became abandoned and a place for transients.  Another fire in 1991 ravaged the structure and eventually became listed on the National Register of Historic Places and hence, is now a reconstructed awesome museum.

This museum was fantastic!

There’s a baking room in which the kids could roll out dough and create, along with an employee baking treats you can sample. Notice that Nikolas found it just so hilarious to put the dough on his head. He’s ten and also half of Nikos, that’s all I have for an explanation.

There was a water room for the kids to get wet and play in, a miniature scale of St. Anthony Falls.

We went on an old grain elevator and each floor had recordings of former employees.  The top floor revealed the impressive ventilators.  Finally, we went outside on the top deck which overlooked the Mississippi River and St. Anthony Falls.

There were so many activities to do, both for adults and kids, I could write a lengthy article.  We watched commercial jingles, many of which I remembered from childhood, the kids loved this portion. Narcoleptic Nikos only took two naps this museum trip, which might just be a new record.

I decided I’d grow my own wheat grass one day and attempt to grind my own flour.  I might even use it for my monthly cookie giveaways.  I was that inspired!

We watched a film about Minneapolis, chatted with the employees, built a life-size puzzle, watched a demo on flour dust explosions.  The ruins outside reminded me of the Parthenon in Greece, and in the early evening, a wedding had taken place.  We spied from inside for a good fifteen minutes, as well as a museum employee.

To sum things up, it had been a terrific day at this very COOL museum!

We’ve been to the Science Museum of MN several times. Check out the pics from the summer article if interested. This last visit, we spent some extra time at the Mississippi River Visitor Center, which is located inside the Science Museum. While the kids completed their activities to earn their Junior Ranger badges, Nikos and I spent an hour chatting with the volunteer. The youngish retiree was very interesting, and we discussed everything from his son’s bicycle business to how he managed to put his two children through college, one of them having gone to St. Olaf, the local ivy league college. The highly dedicated and engaging ranger had sworn in our kids and provided them with a large back of posters, magnets and information. What a wonderful visitor’s center, and I suggest that you take the time while visiting the museum to check it out.

Finally, when the day is promising little sunshine, there is always a museum to pass some of the day away. You will undoubtedly garner a few warm memories.

I simply could not believe that my Elizabeth was turning fourteen.  She made me a mother, has been forced to tolerate the first child syndrome that many of us inexperienced overly-ambitious parents have been afflicted.  I used to wipe down the grocery carts with anti-bacterial wipes before placing her car seat in them while shopping, made sure she could read, do some addition and write when she four because I was a psychotic perfectionist mother.  Before I’ve irritated you enough to stop reading this annoying blog post, I began to relax over the years…I’ll be the first to admit that I have been a far better, more chilled out mama to Nikolas and especially to Katerina.   Often in this society so much focus is on competition, and parents feel enormous pressure, sometimes measuring their worthiness on how many awards their child has received, who has the highest scores on their achievement tests, who is the star player on the soccer team, school character or student of the month award… We are BOMBARDED by competition!

One afternoon about a year ago, I was feeling weepy and sorry for myself, feeling down as a mom.  Nikolas’ teacher had written a note saying that in spite of Nikolas’ brightness, he was having difficulty staying on task.  The same afternoon, Nikolas confessed how bad he felt that he’d been the second to last kid picked in gym class to play basketball.  Also, the entire school had participated in a leadership program, which had been nationally recognized.  Nikolas had been very well-behaved throughout his time in school, made all A’s except in handwriting, never has been unkind to anyone, yet he hadn’t been picked from his class.  Out of the twenty, seven students had been picked, a few of them Nikolas had complained on several occasions the mean things they said to him and others, how they were bullies and they were not well-behaved. Nikolas looked at me and asked why he hadn’t been chosen to represent his class.  I looked him in the eyes and promised him that his time to shine would come, to be patient and truthful, and to remember that he was being the true leader by being humble and kind and that was all that mattered.  To be fair, there were also some wonderful kids chosen for this leadership event.

Elizabeth had missed out on being chosen for math field day, even though her test scores were always high.  I smiled and told her it didn’t matter as long as she was working hard in her classes, but sure inside I would have been tickled if she would have made it.

At the library story hour, so many kids smaller than Katerina were speaking well and clearly and I knew that Katerina was behind in her speech.  One mean-spirited mom looked at Katerina and then asked me how old she was.  When I told her she appeared shocked and replied that she thought she was no older than two.  I felt pretty lousy and frustrated, it had been a rough two days on the mama front, and Nikos was out of town to top it all off.

That was when I opened my mind and laughed out loud at myself.  MY KIDS WERE DOING FINE, it was all okay!  Since then, when I fall into that “comparing trap of crap” as I like to refer to it, I remind myself that my kids are who they are,  unique little beings who deserve to have a mother who is able to see that rather than measure their worth based on how they stack up to others.  I’m doing the best I can is all I can say.  We all want the world to see how special our children are, however, all children are special.  They all shine in their own unique ways, whether the rest of the world can recognize it or not.

Elizabeth turned fourteen on January 8th.  She’s still my curly haired overly enthusiastic little girl, who dreams of being a Rockette even though I doubt she will reach the height requirement.  It’s a good way to convince her to drink milk, which she hates, telling her it will help her grow taller. I decorated the downstairs in fuchsia and black and white zebra print.  She skipped down the stairs and was delighted by the decorations.  We sang many times to her, I told her the story of the day she was born, and enjoyed her birthday breakfast with her.  I’d been up since four so I was a bit blurry-eyed, and it helped to not be too sappy and sad that Elizabeth was growing up on me, no matter how hard I tried for her not to.

She’d had a good day at school and just as soon as Nikolas came home, we went ahead and had Elizabeth open her birthday gifts.  I’d ordered Just for Kix dance clothing and of course, it hadn’t arrived.  Thank goodness, Ms. Emily from Division Street Dance had an extra dance bag for sale, which Elizabeth absolutely loved!  We’d also given her the Rockette t-shirt that had arrived late from Christmas.  I decided she’d have the Just For Kix gifts at her party.  We rushed around and headed out to dinner at Red Lobster.  We had to make it early because Elizabeth had dance class that evening.  Dinner was good.  It had been a couple of years since we’d last eaten there.  The lobster bisque was especially tasty.  While we waited for them to come out and sing to Elizabeth, Katerina was bopping in her chair and fell head first on the floor.  She wailed and a waitress offered to bring ice which hadn’t been necessary and it was a big scene.  Katerina was fine after two minutes of hugging and some gulps of water.

Poor Elizabeth had wanted an ice cream cake from Dairy Queen, but the Northfield one was closed for the season.  Finally, Elizabeth settled on Cinnabon rolls.  We rushed home and while Elizabeth was getting ready for dance, Katerina and I decorated them to look almost like a cake.  Katerina even put her princess characters on it.  Elizabeth was sweet to make a big deal out of Katerina’s decorating skills:))

We gobbled up the cinnamon rolls and Elizabeth happily headed to dance class, but was embarrassingly late.  I’d made red velvet cupcakes for her dance class, so she had even more treats there.  Nikos had taken her. Elizabeth could not be a sweeter big sister to Katerina, could use some improvement with Nikolas, and her love of life and dance nearly breaks are hearts she’s so enthusiastic.  Elizabeth has the resilience and resolve of a toddler’s scraped knee, and we feel honored to be her parents. What a rushed but very happy day for our now fourteen year old-wow!

Elizabeth’s party was after Katerina’s birthday, which was annoying as I like some kind of order in my chaotic life but I’ll give the details here.  Elizabeth initially wanted an ice-skating party but the rink was only open at strange hours, so she finally decided on a bowling party.  We brought the cake, some chips and bowls of candy, and the rest had been managed by the bowling alley employees.  They had a reserved table with a tablecloth, all of the utensils, served pizza and pop.

Around twelve girls showed up, we briefly met their parents before they had left.  In my mind, I’d prepared myself for chatting and mustering up energy to talk to strangers for two hours.  I missed my friends/family back home.  We’d always done birthday parties together and this party seemed so different and almost surreal.  Nikolas and Katerina bowled their own separate game with Nikos.  I just sat down and was in shock that I had nothing to do!  The second game, we asked the girls to make a spot for Nikolas.  His ten year old cheeks were a constant red, my brave little boy with all of those teenaged girls!

The girls were very polite and it was enjoyable to see Elizabeth just goofing off, dancing and having fun with her friends.  I was glad that she’d had a good turnout.  Nikos wasn’t in a great mood because he was worried what the final bill would be.  We were pleasantly surprised in the end just how reasonable the party had been.  He also asked me if it was possible that Elizabeth had actually turned fourteen.  We were both a little down looking back, as we sat there watching Elizabeth with her friends.   It is hard on both of our hearts to witness our baby girl becoming a full-fledged teenager.

Elizabeth had a wonderful time and she met up with her friends after the party at Target for another hour of fun and spending her birthday money.

Five days later it was Katerina’s turn.  My little Spartan warrior turned four!

She had insisted on having a party at home saying “because my house is so big!”, so she’d invited her dance class friends.  I’d prep-cooked a bit and we closed off the upstairs because I was determined to enjoy Katerina’s special day with her and not spend it cleaning or stressing.  Still, I’d awakened at 4:30 and decorated, cleaned the downstairs and worked on lunch.

I don’t even want to write what all I cooked for the party because it was down-right ridiculous and embarrassing.  The table was covered, and both counters had food from one end to the other, and I could have easily fed fifty.  Okay, I’m nuts and I know it.

Katerina’s birthday party theme was what else for a four year old girly girl?  Disney princess!  Pink and purple was everywhere!  When she came bounding down the stairs she was squealing with joy, and our hearts were full of happiness for our precious little Katerina.  To be celebrating her birthday is such a gift!  Remembering those dark, bleak miserable and frightening months when we’d almost lost her a couple of times to now, dancing and filling our days with sweet sunshine, we couldn’t love that precious baby more!

Elizabeth and Nikolas were just as excited as Katerina was to be celebrating.  Nikolas’ happiness was short-lived, as he came down with strep throat.  He spent the rest of the day on the couch, sick and reading as he felt worse.

The high made it to zero but that didn’t deter the guests.  Three little girls arrived and it had been their first birthday party they had been invited to.  It was a wonderful party!  Katerina played and ran around with her little friends, bowled with Katerina’s new princess bowling game, I had them sit down on the floor and they made princess crowns, we had a pinata which took forever to break, and Katerina was all smiles.  The parents were great and seemed to enjoy the food.  Katerina received some terrific gifts and it was just about as perfect as a party as I could have imagined.  Most importantly, Katerina had loved it and that was what mattered most.

One part of the party Katerina did not enjoy, it was all of us singing, “Happy Birthday”. She looked like she was ready to cry when we sang. Later, she admitted that it made her feel shy, and that she didn’t like it at preschool either.  We couldn’t have stuffed our bellies more that day and Katerina didn’t want to leave the house because she wanted to play with her gifts, so we postponed her birthday dinner to Tokyo Grill for a few days later.

What a perfectly wonderful party, it felt so good to help give Katerina such an awesome birthday!

Katerina’s big present was her battery-operated four wheeler. Both Elizabeth and Nikolas were jealous, complained that they had always wanted one and never received one.  I have since caught Nikolas numerous times sneaking on that small pink quad driving it around, before I can yell at him.

Katerina is obsessed with Tokyo Grill.  We rarely go because it is awkward, even though the food is awesome.  Joyce is always very kind and her daughter sits with us while we eat and I don’t know, I just have a difficult time eating while talking to people who aren’t.  Every time we go there, I leave hungry because I’m so uncomfortable.  Nikos has no problem and gobbles up everything, which gets on my last nerve!  Anyway, we walked in, told Joyce that it was Katerina’ birthday dinner, and Chloe came out to join the girls.  I have concocted an entire hypothesis about the goings-on with this restaurant.  You would have to call me for what I believe is the true story.  Nikos was completely fascinated when I told him what had transpired in my mind during our meal there, so much so that he won’t stop discussing it.  Katerina was tucked in the corner not talking to anyone, I was talking to Joyce, Elizabeth was playing and talking to Chloe and Nikos and Nikolas were shooting straw wrappers.  Chloe hadn’t eaten so they finally brought her some food and besides the pretty pink umbrella in Katerina’s teriyaki chicken, not one thing was done to make her birthday dinner special from any of us.

I left there feeling bad for Katerina, even though her sweetness would never see it any way other than happy.  For other birthdays at Tokyo Grill, they play a creepy version of “Happy Birthday” on the speakers, and present the birthday guest with a dessert and a flower that shoots out fireworks, take a picture and put it on the wall.  I felt sorry for Katerina, so much so that I told Nikos we were going for a second birthday dinner for Katerina.  Yes that’s right, we had two birthday dinners for our sunshine!

Two days later, we went to Portercreek Hardwood Grill, our favorite, and had a proper birthday dinner for Katerina.

It was a good time, the food was wonderful as always and they brought out a bread pudding with a candle.  We sang “Happy Birthday” to Katerina, she buried her face because she hates it and finally, we were all clear for the birthday festivities!  Only, Katerina still to this day asks if it’s her birthday again.  And now you can call me an overly indulgent mama because I found those cheapy plastic flowers with the mini-fireworks at Cub Foods, and my plan is to have an ordinary dinner and bring out dessert with that flower, surprising Katerina. I am simply bound and determined to have that sweet little girl get that flower!  Yes, we will still be celebrating her birthday in February!

Christmas eve was quiet and peaceful. I shuttled the bundled up kids outside in the morning for an hour of sledding so I could get some gifts wrapped. All day long the kids couldn’t take it, begging to open some gifts. We finally allowed them a few, and hence, that’s where the peacefulness of day transpired.

We went to the earlier Christmas eve service, of course we were fifteen minutes late, and they ushered us to the very front row, just to make sure everyone knew we were late. It was a lovely service, especially the lighting of the candles while singing “Silent Night”.

Dinner was prime rib with bearnaise, broccoli, rolls, twice-baked potatoes, a cheeseball, shrimp cocktail, a hot dip, stuffed mushrooms, and cheesecake with a raspberry sauce and french silk pie. I felt a twinge of loneliness as we had grown used to having family over for Christmas eve.

After supper and while eating dessert, we watched “Rudolph”. Don’t you think Santa is a serious grump in that movie?! He’s so discriminating. Finally, I gathered my babies together and read from the Bible and other Christmas stories. These are the dearest years with the kids. Nikolas looking outside the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of Santa, Katerina so excited and giddy in her footed pajamas, while Elizabeth graciously fed into the magic of Christmas. Once my kids were all nestled and snuggled in their beds while visions of certainly no sugarplums were dancing in their heads, since none of us really know what those even are! Nikos and I watched the tail end of “It’s a Wonderful Life” but we had plenty of work to do. It was the first time in years that I managed to get into bed by 10:30, making me feel like I’d forgotten something.

I awakened Christmas morning around five, absolutely focused on drinking that cup of coffee before the kids came bouncing down the stairs. They were up at around 5:50, faces matching any other kid about to dig into present opening bliss, and Christmas morning chaos ensued! Wrapping paper flew, Nikos was jarred awake fifty times when the kids wanted to show him what Santa had brought. The task of adding batteries to just about every single gift had to be done. All of the “Made in China” packaging had to to be wrestled but it was a happy bright white Christmas.

Katerina was not wild about her new baby doll, the one pictured above. In fact, she was rather freaked out by it. Later she confessed that she liked that the baby could walk but she didn’t like her talking.

For the first time ever since kids, we stayed home all day long and had Christmas dinner at our house. We never changed out of our pajamas except for Elizabeth who wanted to wear her new Division Street warm-up, and Katerina wore her new princess nightgown. For lunch, because not much prime rib was left, I made a stock out of it, added carrots and onions and it turned out to be delicious and I felt resourceful. Evening came upon us early, being that the sun had disappeared by 4:30. For Christmas dinner, I baked a ham and made potato salad, peas, stuffing, and mashed potatoes. The best part of all was we ate Christmas dinner in our jammies. Katerina’s favorite gift seemed to be her Disney princess castle. She sat on the family room floor all day long, playing quietly. Katerina has never been very needy when it comes to playing. We played a game of Candyland together but she was very content to enjoy her toys independently. Elizabeth was in her dance wear, dancing for at least three hours. Nikolas already learned how to play his Hawaiian antique saxophone and had mastered his new pogo stick. After Christmas dinner, we played Elizabeth’s new game. Nikos and I watched a movie and we both agreed that this had been the single-most peaceful Christmas we have ever had.

We’d planned on going to WV the following morning or the next. There was a serious winter storm passing through all the way from WV up to MN. What normally would take twenty hours could have taken us more than double the time. I was sad not to go, plus the cost of the trip would have been an issue. Leandra and Daddy, a few days later had mailed a box of Christmas presents, giving the kids a sense of Christmas all over again. They were so happy and I had been deeply touched. Joe, Leandra’s mom, had also included gifts for the kids. It made me feel terrible for not making it down to WV but also warmed my heart by their thoughtfulness. All of us felt a little down by not going to WV, but the kids only had a week off from school, and we wouldn’t have had any time.

I took the kids to the library for winter break activities. Katerina won a bingo game and then they allowed Nikolas and Elizabeth to have prizes. Nikolas picked out a book and the girls had chosen matching library jungle t-shirts. I worked on puzzles with Katerina while Nikolas and Elizabeth played the wii game. We don’t have one at home, and I don’t plan on buying one so they could play for an hour if they wanted at the library.

Also during the break, we went sledding at St. Olaf. The hill in front of Old Main has witnessed a century of sledding fun (and accidents). I was rather intimidated by the big scary hill. We couldn’t find our good sled, but we managed with what we had. We’d planned on only staying for twenty minutes and ended up staying for over two hours. Nikos didn’t last long, but he enjoyed a long winter’s nap in the car.

Katerina and I finally made it to the top of the steep hill and flew down, actually sideways with our crappy sled. Nikolas was awesome on his snowboard! I heard kids pointing to him and exclaiming how good he was. I tried taking a run on his snowboard and had fallen so hard on my elbow and shoulder, I was sore for a week. Well, to be clear, I was sore for a week as it was from hiking up that hill for two hours.

Elizabeth gave Nikolas’ snow board a try. I was nervous for her as she flew down from the top, arms stretched at her sides, and the entire way down she screamed, “I have no idea what I’m dooooiiiinnnng!”. Elizabeth is loud by nature and I just shook my head laughing, because she’d stirred up everyone’s attention so that the crowd was also watching. She made it! It was so funny to me because at that moment as she was screaming, it had reminded me of when I’d taken her home as a newborn from the hospital. I remember looking down at that sweet perfect little face that reminded me of a little hamster, and saying to myself that I also didn’t have a clue what I was doing.

We went to the zoo and the science museum during the break as well. I’m doing a museum article simultaneously so I’ll feature our time spent at the museum in that one.

New Year’s has never been such a big deal for me. Every single Monday, my favorite day of the week is my New Year’s sentiment. Mondays are my clean slate, my day for a promising beginning. Anyway, we had decided to spend our New year’s Eve day at the bowling alley. We’d made reservations and for $50 we each got a soda pop, all the bowling we could fit in, and it was an awesome time! I hadn’t expected the event to be so well organized. There was music, laser lights, door prizes (we won twice and both times were Pepsi t-shirts). The kids danced (I did a little too) and we had a blast. Towards the end, they handed out hats, leis, and horns to everyone and did a 2013 countdown. It couldn’t have been more family friendly and if we’re here next year, this is our new tradition.

After, we wasted our time by driving up to the Mall of America so the kids could use their ride wristbands they each had received for Christmas. The lines were unbelievably long, the mall was ridiculously crowded, and I couldn’t have escaped out of the mall any faster. We did buy each kid a new book from the bookstore first. We drove all the way back to Northfield, and waited for forty-five minutes for pizza and breadsticks for the kids. For the first time since becoming parents, Nikos and I went on a date for New Year’s eve. Before leaving, we’d put Charlie Brown’s New Year’s special on, told the kids they could each have some popcorn after their pizza dinner, and explained if there was any arguing, they would not be paid.

It was bitterly cold, snowy and icy but that is a reality in winter here. We decided to try the Northfield Golf Club. We were hoping it could possibly compare to Bellefonte but we’d need to head over to France or at least San Francisco for that quality. Nikos was set on ordering the steak with a peppercorn sauce and I went with the prime rib. I was shocked that Nikos hadn’t ordered the prime rib because it was all you could eat. The salad, baked potato and soup were buffet style, the ranch was just about out and I had to scrape the sides of the ranch bucket with my ladle, which was irritating for a restaurant with high prices. Overall, I was very pleased with the place. Our server’s name was memorable, Becky. The soup was chicken wild rice, pretty decent. I appreciated the ambiance, the food was well-prepared, and time spent away from the kids without having to tell them to stop grabbing each other’s food, fighting over who gets to sit by Mama, explaining to the kids why they cannot drop utensils on the floor and pick them up again and eat, hissing at them to stop talking with food in their mouth, all non-existent for ninety minutes was as wonderful as the chocolate cheesecake we shared for dessert.

I added the following picture because it’s pitiful looking and that’s what I liked about it, showing why Nikos and I work as a couple. We are both serious goofballs and imperfect and willing to admit it.

We headed back to the yellow homestead and the kids hadn’t been injured, hadn’t broken the few isolated valuable we have, and bless their sweet little hearts, they even attempted to clean the family room and the popcorn that was still all over the place. Elizabeth was aggravating Nikos and I about watching the ball drop. I had wanted to watch a particular movie that wouldn’t have been suitable for Elizabeth so I went on up to bed with Nikolas and Katerina. Nikos stayed up with Elizabeth to watch the ball drop. At 11:30, Elizabeth woke me up crying and said she got in an argument with Daddy. Nikos had insisted that she go to bed and Elizabeth was crying that she’d wanted to stay up until midnight. I was grouchy to say the least and Nikos explained that the stupid ball had dropped at eleven, being that NY was an hour ahead of us. What I’ll never understand is why I have to mediate any issues. Why am I awakened in my comfortable slumber to handle the most ridiculous argument of the year before it had even begun? Being the sweet softy to his kids that he is, Nikos told Elizabeth that she could stay downstairs and watch TV if she really wanted to but she was already in bed and asleep.

I like the number thirteen and therefore 2013 was hopeful. I’d changed tradition a bit by baking a pistachio cake instead of the traditional vassilopita. I wasn’t in the mood whatsoever for strict New Year’s resolutions and giving up my beloved sweets. I went ahead and enjoyed that pistachio cake for breakfast and failed right away, taking the pressure off. Our sweet baby girl Katerina found the coin in her piece of cake. The tradition is that she has the good luck for the year. I thought her first bout of luck was that she hadn’t accidentally swallowed the coin.

Note the ceramic nativity figurines. Katerina just about drove me insane playing with them daily over Christmas.  She dropped them, knocked them together and loved them dearly, so much I couldn’t take them from her.

For the first day of 2013, we decided to get out for the day and head to the zoo. The most shocking part of the day was that it was somewhat crowded, even though it never made it into the double digits in temperature.

While in the aquarium section of the zoo, I was chatting with an elderly volunteer, when all of a sudden, the director rushed over and worriedly claimed that a boy had been bitten by a shark. Who was it? Nikolas of course! They made such a big hoopla over it, and I looked at his finger, the skin was intact, no blood, so I said it was no big deal. They wanted to take us to file some kind of claim and I finally said it wasn’t worth our time. The director told me that the last time this had happened, the mom had gone ballistic on the zoo employees and they were surprised by my relaxed behavior. I laughed and replied that Nikolas being bitten by the shark was about the least of what happens daily at our house. The cat alone does far mare scratching and biting than a little old shark does on any given day.

It had been a fine day at the zoo and I was sad the kids would be going back to school the following day. What a wonderful first Christmas in Minnesota!

Mrs. Emily from Division Street Dance had the parents and guests from each class watch the last part of class.  At the end, she gave each of her students Rudolph candy canes that she had crafted.  She is so very kind to the girls, and I cannot say enough about how wonderful of a role model and influence she is on her students.  I had my girls give her the cookie platter with socks because I get embarrassed giving gifts in person.  Katerina’s preschool teachers were hilarious.  Actually, Ms. Kathy was.  She began exclaiming that I’d saved Christmas because people were coming over for the weekend and she hadn’t made anything.  I appreciated her enthusiasm!  Nikolas’ teacher is pregnant so I knew she’d either appreciate treats or have an aversion to them.

I had begun to get calls from customers from the the Riverwalk Market for cookie trays and baklava.  My first customer was an elderly woman named Mary.  She told me she’d pick up the baklava tray at the Saturday market.  I’d held that tray on my lap on the drive to the market that Saturday.  Nikos exclaimed how cute I was for taking such care of my customers.  I’d even put a bow on it.  It was a frigid sub zero morning and here came Mary at ten.  I noticed she was having difficulty putting her gloves on and off and I wondered how she had made it up the treacherous icy steps to the armory.  I asked her if I could help her out and she reluctantly agreed.  I carried the tray of baklava, held her arm and carefully made it down the stairs, across the street, and all the way down to where she was parked.  During the walk she told me about her grandchildren, and even her two great-grandchildren.  She told me it was very appropriate that I’d called my house “Lemon Meringue”.  This is going to sound strange to many of you, but I felt like I was having a conversation with my Grandma Sharp.  Everything about her, her voice, how she looked and her behavior, was strikingly similar.  I opened the car for her, placed the tray in the back seat on the floor, and thanked her with both of my hands.  I wished I could have chatted with her for longer, but during that brief encounter, my heart was touched, actually replenished is a better word.  For the rest of the day, my heart was full.  My grandma friend at the market told so many people how I’d walked that lady out, and had taken care of her, but no, she had taken care of me.  It had been a very slow day at the market being the last of the year, but I made the most money that day than any other Saturday.  I’m not sure when I’ll get used to being paid for baking.  I’ve always cooked for people, enjoyed it immensely, but it seems very strange to me that people would actually want to give me money for it, if that makes sense.

Elizabeth and I had a date at the Sheldon Theater in Red Wing to see “The Nutcracker”, our annual tradition.  Let me clarify, our annual tradition is to watch The Nutcracker ballet.  We were so late that Nikos and the kids had to join us.  This was the same afternoon as the last market.  Nikos and I were arguing and it seemed that everything was holding us back from going.  Nikos was irritated that I was making him come with us, I was mad at him because he couldn’t understand that I was trying to do something special with our daughter, we got lost three times since Nikos’ phone was out of a service area, and then I’d lost the tickets.  We’d been given a free ticket voucher when I had this sweet coupe come over from the Northfield Welcoming Committee.  We finally pulled into Red Wing’s Sheldon Theater during intermission.  The ticket lady was so very sweet and  allowed us to go ahead into the ballet, since they had my name and had been expecting us.  It would have normally cost $58.

The ballet was absolutely stunning!  I cherish those rare occasions when I can spend time with my sweet Elizabeth.  So much gets in the way, busy activities, stress, time, all of it,  preventing me from spending more quality time with each of my children.  We were bummed to have missed the first half, however, it was all so beautiful, we were elated with what we managed to have seen.   The  Sheldon Theater had been built in 1904, and had been described as a “jewel box” based on the lovely paintings, sculptures, ornate crown molding and delicate finishes.  Elizabeth and I had our heads tilted back and jaws dropped, absorbing the true magnificence and splendor of the building.  Before you ask for pictures, I hadn’t taken the camera with me, having left it in the car in my mad rush.

Elizabeth and I had been fueled by artistic energy and when we made it back to the car, Nikos presented me with two miniature cakes from the local bakery!  We each took a swipe of frosting, and with every ounce of willpower, I closed the boxes, knowing I’d enjoy those sweet treats later after dinner.

Our first stop was the train depot visitor’s center. There was a small art gallery inside and we chatted briefly with the elderly woman at the desk.  I highly recommend if you are interested in what there is to see in a new town, where to eat and such, stop by the town visitor center.

The kind lady directed us to the Red Wing Shoe Store.  Sure enough, there was plenty to see, and we spent nearly an hour and a half inside.  We also got into a conversation with the cashier, a young woman who was planning her wedding.  She despises cake and wanted to serve ice cream instead.  I spent twenty minutes trying to convince her otherwise.  She said she was paying for the wedding because her future in-laws disliked her so much that they wouldn’t speak to her.  I thought that would be one tough and sad beginning for the newlyweds.

Red Wing shoes is internationally recognized.  The boots are quite pricey but touted to last for thirty years.  We ventured down into the basement where I found a pair for only $25.  The ones upstairs were around $300.  The kids were amazed by the giant boot, well I guess Nikos and I were as well.

We found ourselves in another conversation with an older couple just before leaving Red Wing Shoes.  I’d asked the man if he knew of a good restaurant and he answered that they were doing the same.  He said his wife plans random weekend trips and this had been one of them.  I know, she was me!

The man had mentioned The Brickhouse Pub and Grille and that was where we went.  The menus were covered in leather to go along with the red Wing Shoe theme, which I thought was cute.  Dinner took a very long time, but the restaurant had a cozy neighborhood feel.  I ordered the walleye.  On the menu it had been described with a sauce but the waiter told me when I asked for it, that it only came with tartar.  Nikolas loved his wings.  Overall, the food was so-so, in my opinion, but who cared, I had CAKE for later!!  The drive home wasn’t too bad and we were all in jolly moods, filled with a rough afternoon turned bright.
The following morning after church in the fellowship hall, I ran into the people from the welcoming committee and told her about the ballet and Red Wing.  I showed her my boots, and she replied, “You are now a true Minnesota resident!”.

Getting out is rather unmotivating when it’s so cold your eyeballs ache, however, we occasionally ventured out for at least a winter walk along the prairie.  What I especially appreciated about this walk was the onset of evening and blueish hue cast upon us.

Every year, it is a family tradition to drive around looking at Christmas lights, drinking hot chocolate and listening to Christmas music. This year, thanks to pinterest, I stepped it up a notch. I was busy making cookie platters that had been ordered while the kids were watching The Grinch. It was the 23rd of December and we’d had a pizza party while watching “The Polar Express”. That movie gets me every single time, I always tear up at the end, what a beautiful movie! I don’t like The Grinch so I finished up my platters and began a pot of hot chocolate. That movie was lasting forever. Nikos helped me print out the “tickets” and I had the idea to cut out a paper bag for authentic-looking intentions. I had discreetly placed candy canes with the tickets underneath each of the kids’ pillows, and couldn’t wait until they FINALLY got in their jammies. They also hadn’t noticed the hot chocolate, now poured into disposable cups. Nikos and I were so excited!

The kids were taking forever to get ready for bed, just like always. Finally, we were settling in, picking out books for bedtime stories, when Elizabeth yelled, “Hey! There’s a candy cane-what in the world?!” Following, was a cascade of giggles and excitement when Nikos announced, “Get in the car kids, we’re going to see some Christmas lights!”.

The kids were so very happy and excited! They were so surprised, it was just awesome! it makes me smile thinking about it again. We piled in the car and remained in Northfield so it wouldn’t take too long. We sang Christmas songs, oohhed and aahhhed at the colorful lights, the more gaudy the better. Finally, Katerina was drifting off to sleep and we were tuckered out. Pulling into our Lemon Meringue house, with our imperfect and bowed lights, we carried with us the tremendous satisfaction of a beautiful Christmas memory made!

I’ll begin here with Nikolas’ violin concert.  The swirling snow and biting cold temperature moved everyone in the middle school auditorium quickly enough.  Nikolas wasn’t nervous whatsoever, Elizabeth was close to as annoying as she could possibly be, because she was being forced to miss dance class.  We were whisper arguing and I didn’t care what the people in front of us thought about me scolding my teenager.  One nice thing about moving to a new town is that you are anonymous.  The people in front of us were the types with selective parenting memories.  Their child has never done wrong and they never yell and what a pity that I have a kid who is acting up behind them!   These are the same parents who at the grocery store when you are carrying your screaming and kicking toddler out of the store in a football hold, those “perfect” people are shaking their heads in disapproval, because they have NO recollection of their child EVER having a meltdown.  I whispered to Elizabeth that if she said one more word against Nikolas’ violin concert she’d not go to dance for the rest of the week.  And then I felt peace for a whole forty minutes while the concert lasted.  Katerina enjoyed the music and had been a very good little girl.  The parents in front of us were on to a different family, she was whisper yelling at her to turn off her cell phone, and I thought for one frightening moment that there might have been a full out brawl.  That’s when I shook my head at her, hee hee!

I was very impressed by the orchestra, found it to be unbelievable that those kids were in elementary school!  What an impressive and talented teacher the kids have.  They had combine three different elementary schools for the performance.  Bashful Nikolas located us in the audience from the stage and even waved.

After the program, in addition to us dishing out our compliments to Nikolas, I could hear several other parents doing the same.  There are good people in this world, people who want the best for their grand/children, and it serves as a great reminder that people are okay for the most part.  The universe seemed even more wonderful to Elizabeth, because she managed to get almost an hour of dance class in.

Two days later, we went to Nikolas’ choir concert.  I absolutely love school programs!  I enjoy dressing up, putting my gawdy Christmas pin on and it’s a true joy for this mama.  Elizabeth had dance class, which I allowed her to go as long as she left class early to make it for Nikolas’ program.  I saved Nikos and Elizabeth seats in the very front row, this time it was in the gym at Nikolas’ school.  Katerina was enjoying the attention from a grandmother and some other ladies.  She was showing off and acting goofy.

Another couple of young boys were screaming up and down the gym while rolling toy cars back and forth, so I felt at ease.  Nikos and Elizabeth were five minutes late but they had made it at least, even with Elizabeth’s orange mustache from Gatorade, her favorite drink in the world.

The following picture was Katerina’s impression of the program…

Nikolas sang and smiled and the kids did a terrific job. I met the music teacher, Mrs. Hummel before the program, and she was genuinely nice.  I thanked Nikolas afterward for joining the choir, it was a very fine event.

Let’s see…we finally went to Great Wolf Lodge for Nikolas’ belated birthday party.  The lodge was all decked out for Christmas, and the kids were very excited to be going.  I was just about going hoarse before we get there trying to pump up the kids.  “Who wants to go to Great Wolf Lodge?”  “Meeeee!!!!”  Not loud enough.  Again, “Who wants to go to Great Wolf Lodge?”  “MMMMEEEEEEE!!!!!” screamed all three kids at the top of their lungs.  We are the biggest dorks and that is what transpires in our truck, in case you have ever wondered.

We were excited, check-in was quick, and we made just in time for songs and a story.  Fake snow fell from the building, kids were clad in their jammies.  We got in our swimsuits as fast as we could before the pool closed for the night.

The following day, we took turns on the slides, people watched, Nikos and I got in an argument and I suspected that he did that intentionally so he could go take a nap while I wasn’t speaking to him.  Finally, I went over dripping water from the pool which woke him right up.  There were two meanie moms in the kiddie pool.  Their meanie daughters were intentionally spraying water on Katerina, spraying it on me with their feet, and I moved to the other side.  The moms were laughing and pointing at me and I couldn’t stand them.  In the other kiddie area, there they were again.  The one girl wasn’t playing on the jet ski, she was just sitting there so no kid could get on.  Well, the meanie mom had a meanie son too.  He was spraying with the handle of the other jet ski but not sitting on it.  Katerina climbed up and he was screaming at her to get off.  Katerina’s tiny sweet face contorted to cry, and I told that meanie kid,  that she could get on it and stay put since he wasn’t on it.  The Mom came over, glared at me and said, “Come on honey, we’ll play somewhere else!”.  My heart was pumping hard, my cheeks were burning and I told Nikos when he mosied on over after thirty minutes that I hated Great Wolf Lodge and the meanie moms that I was forced to share the waterpark with.  He told me once I had some cake after dinner, I’d be fine again.  He was right (I’m whispering this statement).

I’d ordered a small cake from the bakery and after dinner we sang to him in the restaurant.  I know his birthday had been a month ago, but I was bound and determined to make his birthday feel like a party.

Nikos had taken Elizabeth and Nikolas to play Magi Quest.  Meanwhile, I put Katerina to bed and enjoyed an hour and a half of peace and while savoring every single bite of my piece of leftover cake, I felt joyful, meanie moms and their kids out of mind .

At nine in the morning, the kids and I went on a wolf walk in the lobby.  We also had made snowflakes and done other crafts in the Kid’s Club room.  The employee leading the group told my wide-eyed kids about a horrible former employer at her old job.  He had smeared hot sauce on a tiger’s mouth, and then the tiger had grown agitated and bit her.  It was one messed up story!  The kids talked about her story all the way home.  We went to the arcade, went swimming for a few hours in the morning, and had one fine mini-vacation to celebrate Nikolas’ birthday.

I went on several water slides, trying to keep it even with Nikolas and Elizabeth.  I don’t know when it happened, when I became such a big scaredy-cat.  I used to rock climb, ski black diamond slopes, fly recklessly over the moguls, and here I was at Great Wolf Lodge, scared of meanie moms and the water slides.  I refused to go in the howling tornado.  I did try the rope walk across the tree slices and fell splat in the water half-way though and provided a great laugh for the kids.  On the way out, the kids begged to eat something off of the life-sized gingerbread house.  It was just so cute and yummy looking, I was tempted myself, but mom enough to hiss a big “NO!”.

It was that time to go and see who else?  Santa!

We had driven all the way to the Mall of America on a Wednesday evening.  The mall wasn’t crowded and the line to see Santa was just short of nothing.  Katerina’s nervous hands were crammed in her mouth, Nikolas was gathering courage with each step he had taken, Elizabeth was rolling her eyes, silently begging me to not make her go up and sit on Santa’s lap.  I love that sweet Elizabeth so much!  She has to do all of the kiddie type activities quite a bit, and she’s so sweet to make it enjoyable to Nikolas and Katerina.

Katerina managed to tell Santa that she’d like a Belle Barbie doll.  Nikolas requested a ventriloquist dummy and an ocarina, and Elizabeth spoke rather loudly for her parent’s sake, “Dance clothes”.  They smiled for the camera and we all thanked good ole’ Santa and Santa gave the kids each a frosted cookie.

We ate at Rainforest Cafe.  Their food is terrible but the decor is so cool!  There was a volcano, a thunderstorm which scared Katerina, and Nikolas went on about how his dream is to decorate his bedroom just like the restaurant.

One weekend, I managed to find “Christmas in the Village” in Farmington.  It was cold and snowy, and I could not believe our good fortune!  This event was so perfectly wonderful, I’m not sure if it could ever again be as magical.  We went on a horse drawn carriage ride through the 1900 village.  Every building had c-9 lights decorated on the outside.  Gas lamps illuminated the walking paths as well as the various buildings.  Each building had an activity of some sort and people dressed in early 1900 attire.  The kids made ornaments in the old school house and the firehouse.  Some buildings people played musical instruments, others people were cooking or giving demonstrations. I know the following pictures are terrible but that had been all we managed to take until the battery had died.

We met a children’s book author, Gordon Fredrickson and his wife.  We chatted with them for a good while and what great and interesting people they were!  We purchased Thanksgiving on the Farm” and Gordon signed it for us.  I looked forward to reading it to the kids before bed.

The very best and moving part of the evening was going inside the old church.  It was filled with people trying to get warm again and we were handed some caroling pages.  A lady played the piano and as we all piped out songs, the entire congregation was singing together, all strangers, and not the least bit inhibited.  It was a truly beautiful evening!