Christmas at the DeBoers

~A sneak peek of our house at Christmas time~

A happy snowman to light the way~

A silver seashell tree to remind us of the beach :)

Our short and little Christmas tree full of favorite ornaments~










One of our favorite ornaments, a chocolate covered strawberry, mmm, yum!

A jolly santa watching over

Miniature stockings from the dollar store :)

Santa on the bathroom door, making sure Abigayle and Amelia are being good~

Pretty ribbons on the shower curtain

Santa waiting to clean everyone's hands.















Our nativity scene in the living room window~

Another nativity scene

Amelia's pink tree

~And the stockings are hung in the basement with care hoping Santa Clause will soon be there~

~Merry Christmas from us to you~

Bunions or Bahama's?

You probably all know the answer to this question by now~ obviously I chose the Bahama's, but only after long deep  thought.

I have been cursed for many,many years with old lady bunions. Thinking back, I remember these nasty bony growths since the fifth grade, when I tried everyday to wear my sister Marie's, three size too small, blue dock shoes. I just had to cram my hooves into these shoes and pretend like they fit. Upon blowing out the sides I took thick white yarn and sewed them together leaving bulging gaps for my feet to ooze out of. Why? til this day I can't answer that question-- perhaps it was being able to say that I could still fit into a size 2 shoe, when in reality I was wearing a 6? Perhaps it was teasing Marie-- blowing out her favorite pair of shoes? Looking back, I must have made a wonderful impression on the teachers at my elementary, they must have thought "poor, poor, family, they can't even afford shoes!"


The next year, sixth grade, I read about Chinese women wrapping their feet so that they wouldn't grow, so that they would have delicate, tiny feet-- I was well past that stage with my now size 8 clod hoppers, bulging with aching bone spurs and bunions-- what had I done? Darn boat shoes, Darn Marie and her stupid shoes.

Through the years I have managed to pack my extra wide feet into some of the most excruciating, painful shoes known to man all in the name of "looking cute"-- which has recently came back to bite me in the junk in my trunk.

The last visit to the podiatrist left me with a scheduled double- bunionectomy, because of the intolerant pain and daily charlie horses in the arches of my feet, the waking in the middle of the night writhing in pain from these bunions which have now multiplied and are now growing on the outside of my  feet as "bunionettes"-- not painting a very pretty picture am I? And that is part of it too-- who wants to have old lady feet when you're not an old lady?

So a few weeks after scheduling the surgery I was talking with my friend Cari and we decided to plan a winter getaway-- to the Bahama's. You know that $2,300 deductible I was going to have to pay for my bunionectomy? Ha! I love my bunions, my hallux valgus- for you medical people-- I love the pain they bolt through my calves and ankles, I love the red throbbing growths on my feet, I love that after a day of wearing pointy shoes I have to elevate my feet and wrap them in a warm "boo boo buddy" just to get them to stop cramping and spasming,  I can live with this pain-- in fact they aren't that bad looking, and in the right flip flops no one even notices!!!

Bahama's or Bust-- the bunions can wait!!!!

The ham

The other day I came home for lunch and decided to put dinner in the oven for my family for that night. Derek had bought a ham a few days prior and I know how much Abigayle loves ham, so in the oven it went at 12:30. I figured by 5:30 it would be just right to eat.

I picked the girls up from my mom's on the way home from work and said "Guess what's for dinner?" from Abigayle "Ohhh, please be ham, please be ham!!!!"

Me: "It's haaaaaammmmmmmm!!!"

And then from the backseat "Ham,ham,hammmhammhahammm" Ah, the ham song!

Walking in the door, it smelled so yummy! The girls quickly set the table and I went for the oven, pulling the roasting pan out and setting it on top of the stove, holding my breath in anticipation as I lifted the lid and . . . .
What the??????, beneath the lid lay  black,charred, blown-out  remains of what was once  a ham.

 Abigayle walked over "What's wrong with it?" tears welling in her eyes.

Now, I've never claimed to be  Paula Dean or Rachel Ray, but come on! How does one  mess up a PRE-COOKED HAM??, maybe that was the problem, the pre-cooked part, maybe it didn't need to bake in a 350 degree oven for the better part of five hours, but I was not defeated, at least not yet!

I smiled, "Oh, it just looks funny, it will taste good!"

So, I started to cut, and instantly knew this was only going to get worse. Derek walked over and grabbed a piece and in his mouth it went and just as quickly, out it came. "We're not eating that."

Abigayle crying now, "I wanted haaaammmmmmmmm!"

So out  came the good old  hot dogs and white bread, and as we sat down to eat, my wonderful husband looked around "Hey Abigayle, you could have cooked this meal."


"I'm not old enough to use the microwave!!!"

Insulted,  I chimed in " You know, it doesn't really matter what we're eating, as long as we are together, and had you (you being Derek) not bought such a cheap ham, I'm sure we would be eating it right now." Ha! my only defense, the quality of the ham and the price paid for it, because  we all know it wasn't my fault it charred beyond the point of recognition.

Abigayle looked at me, then back over at the stove "That looked like the rear end of a donkey"

Really? Because I've never seen the rear end of a donkey.

And then from  Derek "Rear end of a donkey blown up like the fourth of July"

Looking at Amelia to see what kind words a  five  year old had for my attempt at a family meal and she smiled her toothy grin and  said "These hot dogs are the best!"

Amen to that!

Ahhh. . . . This time of year. .

So as the 1st of October came and passed, I thought back to my childhood and realized that my less than enthusiastic  attitude towards the hunting season is very well justified.

Bob, my dad, was an avid hunter and every year I got to look forward to the carcass of a deer hanging from a tree, not just any tree, this was the tree that the rest of the year posed as my "boyfriend", I believe my sister shared the same "boyfriend". I would go outside and strike up a conversation, wooing this attractive being and occasionally plant a big ole smoochy on him-- I distinctly remember one incident when I was in the kitchen with my mother and she looked out the window and began snickering "You better watch out, he might just kiss you back!" What the?  She looked at me and said "Your sister is  out there kissing the tree!"  why that two-timing son of a ! I ran outside and sure enough she was sitting by MY TREE!!!!!!

My poor tree, who in early fall would have Bambi strung up by his two back legs hanging upside down-- it was horrifying!

Years later, after a garage was added to our family home I was terribly surprised to open the garage door after arriving home from school to yet another deer strung up with it's innards exposed. . C'MON!!!! BOB!!!  A girl shouldn't be witness to this barbaric nonsense. For the rest of the years I lived at home, every day in the fall I  would open the garage door as if Chuckey, the Lakeshore Strangler, was going to be  hiding behind the door.

It got even better when the skinned hind quarters were brought into the house laid upon the plastic covered kitchen table and  hacked up with a handsaw, the sound of a saw going through bone was forever etched into my 5 year old mind and  the highlight, well that  was the smell.

And then for the next 6 months Millie,my mom, got to work her magic with the venison-- let's see, venison burger, venison chili, venison sausage, venison lasagna, venison spaghetti, venison tacos, venison meatballs and for a real treat venison dipped in egg, rolled in crackers and friend. . mmmmmm, tasty little morsels.

 Millie got and A+ for creativity and Bob, well he headed back out into the great outdoors for more. Which was another reason hunting season was not a happy time, Bob went AWOL for months-- and we, me, Marci, Marie and my mom were left alone.  I can say one thing for sure and that is that Millie tried to entertain the troops-- we ate dinner to the likes of the Fonz signing "Fonzie, Fonzie He's our man, if he can't do it no one can!", and ABBA, and The Bee-Gee's. She served up hamburgers laced with food coloring "mmmm, I'll take the blue one this evening, thanks mum!"

The line was eventually crossed by my cousin and soon to be brother- in -law when they  proudly displayed their "buck" to me, as if they were showing me rare diamonds and pearls.

 "Ummm, is that a dog???? "

"Do dogs have horns? Duh! You're such a girl"

"No, dogs don't have horns and neither does that. . what is it 45 pounds??? You're both DEEEEESGUSTING!!!!"

My bad. . . because when I went back outside an hour or so later my car was wrapped with intestines.

So you see, it's not that this repulsion for hunting just sprung up out of no where, it's legit!  I truly feel sorry for those deer and more so for the poor women who have to creatively come up with ways to cook the meat so it doesn't taste "gamey" and more so for the kids who have to be witness to carcases displayed like trophies.

Run Bambi, Run!!!!

A Birthday Morning. . .

I have come to realize in the past few weeks that I may be creating two monsters, my dear little Abigayle and Amelia. To some, mhm Marie, this may come as no surprise.

 It was the morning of Amelia's 5th birthday and I couldn't wait to wake her and Abigayle up with breakfast in bed. I had set my alarm early so I could get ready for work and still have time to do some birthday celebrating before getting the girls ready for school. I made "birthday toast" cut into beautiful hearts and butterflies with cookie cutters, cut up some yummy fruit, added whipped cream and put milk in sippy cups--  I lit the birthday candles on the birthday cupcakes and carried all of this into the bedroom singing "Happy Birthday"  and  was greeted with "GO AWAY!!! I'M TOO TIRED, UHHHH MOMMMMMY!!!!"

"But sweety it's your birthday, I made yummy breakfast!"

So they both sat up and looked at their tray's, Amelia squished up her face "UHHHHHH!! you cut the crust offffff??????????" then from Abigayle "You know I don't like milk in a sippy cup, I can't drink that!!!!!"

I held my breath and kept positive, after all, it was early. "Well, I can make some more and not cut the crust off? do you want juice instead?"

And from the girls "no we'll just eat the cupcakes"

So, my hard work at preparing the birthday breakfast went unnoticed and I was starting to think Unappreciated!

"How about opening some presents Amelia?"

That made her smile and after opening a few  she got to  the one gift I was most excited about I held my breath and waited for the "YES!!! I wanted this so bad, thank you Mommy!!!" 

But no, that is not what happened next. Instead her face turned red and she glared at me with beady brown eyes and from her 5 year old mouth out came "YOU weren't suppose to get me this!!!! Mama Mary is getting me this, I TOLD YOU THAT!!!!! Now I won't be happy when I open hers cause YOU already got it for me!!!!WAH!!!!!!!!!!"(fake crying)

Realllyyyy? People act like this????

Instantly I thought to myself, "I'm either going to grab each  and  every hair on my head right now and rip them out one by one in front of these little beings that certainly resemble my children but are acting afool and have drove mommy off the rails of the crazy train OR I'm going to burst into tears", fortunately, I did neither.

Abigayle quickly chimed in "I'm happy, mommy, I love the breakfast, I think these gifts are awesome, I like the toast, you look so pretty this morning!"

Ahhh, a smart one who recognizes the look of complete defeat! Thank you Abigayle for getting the  crazy train back on track!

Amelia quickly followed with "I like your hair"

She wears short shorts!

And so it happened today~ I half heartedly went to Rite-Aid in seek of Nair (yes hair removal) for my eight year old daughters legs. You see, when you have Mexican roots, your body hair is not blond and easily camouflaged, it is dark and very noticeable.

 I didn't think at eight years old though that Abigayle would notice such petty things, but alas, she did  and asked me to shave them. I declined and then my sister-thanks Marie!- suggested getting some Nair.

As soon as we got home Abigayle couldn't wait to get in the bathroom and rid herself of this excess foliage. So, we read the directions and on it went, smelling like rotten vegetation-- Who knew!

After 10 minutes we rinsed her get away sticks and viola- they emerged looking  like a squirrel with mange.

 "uh-- Abigayle, I don't think we left it on long enough"

 "yeah we did, I don't care anyway, it looks gooooood!"

So- she, who was petrified of embarrassment from natural hairy looking legs, is glorified, THRILLLED, with sparse patches of mange like looking hair sprouting from her legs--

I don't get it.

Halleluiah!! Let summer break begin!!!

One week into summer break and the payoffs are :
* The  kids have  forgone  a bath 3 days in a row

* There is no longer a mad panic to find matching socks for the kids in the morning--- ah the glory of flip flops!!

*Hot dogs on the grill have  become a nightly meal

* Vitamins with brain boosting Omega 3's???-- who needs them!!!-- it's summer let those brains turn to mush!!!

Bring on week two!!!!