All I want for Christmas...

...is a cute picture of my boys sitting on Santa's lap. Is that too much to ask? Apparently it is, especially for a 2 1/2 and 1 year old.

At any rate, here are the pictures we got with Santa. Mind you, I was not intending to be in the pictures, hence the work badge on my pants and the camera around my neck. Also note Santa's helper made the pictures too.

The evening went something like this...

The boys were all excited to go to Chik-Fil-A with Mommy. They got their kids meals and were sitting pretty contently at the table. Neither child really ate much. They were too busy watching everything around them. Then Damon poops and I have no idea what I am going to do with Marshall. So I wheel him in the bathroom stall with us, in the high chair. It actually worked well. Since no one was eating we packed up our stuff and headed out to see Santa. However, Damon wanted to stay and play on the indoor playground and proceeded to go all limp so that I couldn't carry him out. Finally, after struggling for several minutes with both kids, the diaper bag and left over bags of food, a very nice man carried Damon out to the van with me. Bless him!

Both boys started off doing very well when we arrived to see Santa. They seemed interested in him and enjoyed watching him with the other kids. Then out of the blue, Santa's helper grabbed Marshall and put him on Santa's lap. Of course he screamed and scared Damon, so Damon wouldn't let go of me. The rest you can see in the pictures! They didn't seem to be too traumatized by the whole event because shortly afterwards they were happily eating cookies!

Cracking Mommy Up!

My kids are always cracking me up, especially when we are talking about food.

On the way home from the sitter the other night, I asked Damon what he wanted for dinner. His reply..."uhhhh, syrup, panpakes and butter. Two butters!"

A few nights later I was taking the boys to Chik-Fil-A, mind you by myself. (That story requires it's own post.) I asked Damon what he wanted and he replied, "french fries, chuggets (which I found is his word for chicken nuggets) and airplane." I said okay, kind of brushing off the airplane comment. When he opened his kids meal, his first response was, "Where's my airplane?" It didn't seem to upset him too much that there wasn't an airplane in his sack. A few minutes later he was flying the food tent advertisement that was on our table all around, like it was an airplane.