Merry Christmas!!!

Merry Christmas!  As you can imagine, in the Kimball house, like any other, it can get crazy!  But considering we live in Florida, away from our extended family, we are grateful for the large number of children we have, to give our holiday the chaos and bustle that Bill and I remember from our childhoods.  Our kids may not have cousins to run and frolic with, but they will always have each other, and the shared memories of the season will last them for decades to come.

So, Merry Christmas! From Bill and Jenn, as we drive around at 2am from 7-11 to 7-11 to Wal-mart, looking for one more blister-pack of Harry Potter Silly Bandz, because Santa would NEVER forget one child when filling the stockings!

From Jenn, fighting the crowds at Best Buy, because the gift I had finally decided to buy for my impossible-to-shop-for husband suddenly appeared in a pile of last-minute bargains he HAD to get while he was shopping yesterday.  Time for a new plan!

From Bill, working hard at CVS to help fill last-minute prescriptions for people who will be unable to get it done tomorrow while they are closed.  Seniors and Tourists are cranky people when they can't get their meds immediately, so he will be working hard to maintain holiday cheer, as well.  Hopefully, he will be home soon.

From Alex, on his 6th lap around the neighborhood with Fynnlie.  We've put out some of the gifts already, and she's having a hard time keeping out of them.  Walks in the stroller provide a good 45 minutes of freedom from constant monitoring of the tree and baby at the same time.

From Bethanie, working hard to beat her 7 year old sister at making the longest paper chain.  Recreating moments from your childhood in order to give those experiences to your younger siblings is refreshing!

From Casadie, utterly thrilled to find that she's superior at making paper chains, besting her 16 year old sister.  Constant calls to come "hold it up and see how tall it is" reveal that it would take about two Moms, laying head to toe to match the length.  Much more to do, though!

From Delanie, 6 links in the paper chains and over it.  Just. Done.  Specifically moved the project table in front of the couch for her, so that she could sit and relax, and fool the siblings and subsequent photographs into thinking she was actively participating.

From Emmalie, obsessed with eggnog.  Endless clamoring for more.  Repeatedly.  We feel indulgent, since this is the only time we ever have it, but also don't want her on the cover of the tabloids as the "Preschooler who gained 85 pounds from drinking eggnog!!  Photos inside!"

From Fynnlie, so very fascinated with the lights, the bows, the wrapping, the strange activities...but bewildered at all the times she gets strapped into the stroller and taken for a walk.  Highly unusual.  Also battling a small bug, but we're hopeful her eyes won't be glassy and feverish in the photos.

From Sadie, our dog.  Nothing special to say..it's a pretty normal day for her, she just wanted to say hi.

From all of us, up to our elbows and eyebrows with sugar cookie baking and decorating...this activity will be the messiest and most delicious project we'll take on all year.  This is what will cause us to be up too late, find that Santa has already passed Florida on the Norad Tracker and make me have to scramble for a story. "Umm..well, Santa realizes that not everyone puts their kids to bed at 7, so he just checks to see, and if we're still awake, he puts on the list to come back after he does other states.  It's no problem, he's so magical!"  It's still working, but I have no  idea how many more years I can pull this off.  Thank goodness I can think fast.  I make up all sorts of nonsense that they remind me of the next year.

From all of us, as the kids open one gift from Grandma tonight, and put on new, semi-matching pajamas before crawling into their beds.

From all of us, as Bill and I wake the to shrieking joy that is little girls discovering their stockings and their one, bigger un-wrapped gift from Santa.  Us grown-ups will groan and stretch, wishing that just for once, children slept until noon on Christmas Day, but also loving the sound of their laughter, and look in their eyes as they show us all the treasures.  For us, we are grateful for our children's health, their intelligence, and their exuberant personalities as we go through this life together, and Christmas morning is a time to just revel in the luck we have experienced in having them.

Merry Christmas from the Kimballs, our Spilt Milk and our Sticky Kisses!

Blinking while driving

Here’s how I imagine the conversation went.

Governor Charlie Christ: “We really need to remove Governmental influence from people’s lives.  Let’s cut them a break.  What can we do to show them we really care?”

Underling: “We could tell them they don’t have to use turn signals anymore! That’s very annoying, and I know I’D be thrilled!”

Gov. Charlie: “I’ll go one better.  Let’s leave the law on the books, but just have all car manufacturers make cars WITHOUT turn signals.  That way, if we need funds, the police can still write tickets for not using them.  Until that day, though, the Floridian people will just have one less pesky little rule to follow, whether they want to follow it or not.”

I say this is how I imagine it, because I imagine LOTS of strange things as I drive.  Mostly, I imagine that 99% of the drivers in Florida today opened a can of Pringles and were thrilled to fine a gen-yoo-ine Florida Driver’s license inside! “Yahoo! I done got one of them permits to drive!  Now I don’t have to black out my windows as much!”

I also imagine that waves of tourists and immigrants decide, en mass, that THEIR way of driving in their country is just as good as or better than ours, so why read the damn manual anyway?  A friend, who is originally from India, once showed me a video on YouTube that showed a typical Indian intersection.  It looked like crazy, drunken ants racing to cross each other, stop, rub noses or scents and scurry on, right after you shove a large stick into their anthill and stir it up.  It was insanity! It very much resembles trying to merge onto the 408 from I-4, and I know you know what I mean.

So, among this imagining I do while in the car, I had to come up with some hypothesis to explain the utter lack of people using blinkers in this state.  I mean, honestly…why WOULD seemingly law-abiding citizens deliberately flout this very simple procedure?  These are the same kind people that wave at me if I let them cut in front of me and my safe distance cushion.  I realize they were waving with one finger, but surely, if they are that polite, AND they have full range of motion in their arms, shoulders, elbows, wrists, hands and especially that middle finger, they MUST have the ability to simply reach 1 inch to the left of the steering wheel and flip that turn signal up or down.  Wouldn’t they?

So I came to the obvious conclusion that cars sold in Florida must no longer have turn signals installed.  That of course, led to how that might have happened, and in the middle of the recent political climate, it was an easy leap to come up with that scenario.  Governor tries to help the people, a suggestion is whispered, and something crazy becomes the norm.    I do hope someone whispers to Rick Scott that millions of jobs can be created if we simply put the unemployed to work re-installing the turn signals and teaching drivers how to use them.

Governor Rick Scott: “I need something to deflect concern that I might be a crook.”

Underling: “Well, you know all those tickets we wrote for not using turn signals?  Seems that is pretty much unenforceable since Charlie had blinkers removed in 2006.  We’re going to lose $2 billion in funding for schools.

Gov Rick “Our citation money is funding schools? That’s gotta stop.”

Underling: “Since lawsuits are going to suck up that money anyway, why don’t we just close the schools, have the teachers reinstall the blinkers in all cars, and send stimulus checks to everyone who owns a BMW or better?”

Gov Scott. “Genius! Make it so, number one!”

*much could be inferred from my use of a Republican governor and underling.  Much could also be inferred from the fact that the last three governors in Florida just happen to be Republican, and I’m convinced SOMEONE had a hand in this.  Carry on.

A Theme Park Day in our Lives

Here’s another chapter in the “How on earth do you DO it, with so many kids?” book o’ questions.  On Sunday, we decided to visit Universal Studios and Islands of Adventure to take part in their holiday festivities.  We’ve been living in Central Florida for 11 years, and had not yet visited Grinchmas and the Macy’s parade at the two parks.  We were doubly excited because some new friends from homeschooling were going to meet us and hang with us, so it was going to be a fun day!  Now, readers of my blog know that we are not early risers here in the Kimball household, so you really ought to start off being impressed that our plans included arriving at the park by 9-9:15am.

7am-the first alarms go off.  Snooze.

7:09-the alarm goes off again.  Snooze.  (WHY again, are they only 9 minutes long??”

7:18-Again with the alarm.  Hear the big kids are up and helping the little girls get up. SCORE-reset the alarm for 8am.

8am-get up, mumble unintelligibly about having to get out of bed when it’s so dang cold!

8:15-finish shower, get dressed, change clothes twice.  It’s a toss-up between looking somewhat fashionable for my new friends, and trying to figure out exactly how cold it will be today.  There’s not a cloud in the sky, so it’ll warm up decently, so a fashionable t-shirt it is!

8:45  We all run around like chickens finishing up getting ready.  I’m in charge of the camera, and USUALLY I’m the one combing little girls’ hair.  Bill has grabbed the brush, so I am left adrift.  I realize that the camera is nearly full, so I begin deleting bad shots in earnest.  The big kids help the girls find shoes and one of them gets the diaper bag ready.  I won’t name this person (Alex) because we find later that he didn’t add any wipes to the wipes container.

9:15-We are outside.  This is a win, even though we’re about 30 minutes behind schedule.  20 minutes later, after arguments about who gets to sit next to Alex, and removing car seats just so the seats can be flipped down to access the 3^rd row and then the car seats get replaced, everyone is strapped in.  This is when Bill and I make 3-4 trips back into the house to retrieve forgotten items.  Jackets, phone chargers, diaper bags, the extra stroller, etc.  The big kids carry important items to the car, such as Fynnlie’s cup, Fynnlie..etc.

10:00-Parking at Universal.  As usual, we are the car selected to begin a new row, waaaaaaaay at the end.  Seriously tempted to show them my large belly and claim third trimester pregnancy to get them to let us park at the closer end.  It doesn’t always work.

10:05- The family abandons me at the bag check line.  All the bags/coats, wraps, cameras, water bottles etc. are stuffed into the bottom of the stroller, so they are free to go through the no-bag line while I stand there with “Raymond” the security guard as he pokes through my things and barks at me to keep the stroller off the moving sidewalks.

10:10 In through the front gates!  I collect all the tickets and put them in alphabetical order.  Much easier to tell whose is missing.

10:15 Pass Suess land to the chorus of “We wanna ride Cat in the Hat! We wanna ride One Fish Two Fish!”  These clamors come from girls who only said all the way in the car that they wanted to ride the Hippogriff coaster.  Harry Potter land is our priority, and we want to do it early before it gets busy.  However, we do stop to meet the Grinch, because there appears to be ZERO line.  The girls attack-hug him in the middle of a rant, and his heart grows two sizes.  The resulting photo is irresistible, so we spend 20 minutes negotiating the ridiculously complicated photo-buying process.

11:00-Arrive in Hogsmeade. Whoops, it’s already busy.  Bugger.  Let the big kids head to Dragon Challenge coaster since the line is not long.  Casadie and I walk through the line just to check out the props like the Weasley’s Car and the Triwizard Tent.  Casadie constantly fact-checks me to make sure I’m not actually trying to compel her to get ON the ride.

11:20-Fynnlie is grumpy and hard to manage at the moment.  Reaching into the “Raymond-the-Security-Guard-disturbed-pile-o-stuff” in the bottom of the stroller, we can’t find her cup.  It was carried securely and safely to the car, and then NOT placed securely or safely in the diaper bag.  *sigh*

11:45-The family, minus Bill and Fynnlie have successfully ridden the Flight of the Hippogriff coaster.  We go to park the stroller by the castle so we can all enter Hogwarts to ride the signature ride.  It’s warmer now, and most of us have shed our coats and placed them in the stroller.  Before going into the giant concrete castle, I check the phone to see if our friends have arrived in the park.  No messages, so in we go!

  At some point in the queue you go from inside back to the outside, and through rafters and bars, you can get a glimpse of the sky. It appears to have changed.  “Honey..those look like rain clouds.  It’s not supposed to rain right?”

12:00-Ride the best ride in the Universe. Ever.  Alex and Beth ride first, while Bill and I wait with the girls in the baby swap room. Fynnlie keeps trying to grab/disconnect some poor disabled child’s oxygen bottle.  This room is far too small for the amount of people that must stuff themselves in it.  Bonus though, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone is playing.  Bill and I get to go next, after giving the big kids dire warnings about letting Fynnlie switch off that kid’s lifeline.

12:20-Exit 8 people into a gift shop that is wall-to-wall people. Seriously.  There are as many people entering the store via the exit as there are people exiting the ride and into the store.  It’s a madhouse.  Strangely, most of these people are wearing ponchos.  And they’re wet.  Oh Snap.  It rained.

12:25.  Correction, it’s raining.  Now.  Drizzling.  It’s gotten much colder, and the little girls are pathetically shivering and rubbing their arms, and we are drawing attention as those horrible parents who didn’t put coats on their kids.  We rush to the stroller, slipping every five steps.  (Wizarding World needs non-skid, says former theme park manager)  Start stuffing kids in coats.  “My coat is all wet!” “Yuck!”  “I fell down again!”  I’m annoyed with one of my kids who darts in front of me and acts as though they’re going to go off with another family, so I hook the back of their shirt and begin dragging them back to us.  That’s when I realize, with horror, that it’s NOT MY KID.  I let him go and he throws me this half annoyed, half terrified look over his shoulder.  I jokingly tell his Mom “Oh, hey..I just almost took your kid with me..so sorry for the attempted kidnapping!”  She pretends to think it’s funny, but then quickly gets her family away from us.

At the risk of making this the longest post ever, I could continue to detail my day.  Suffice it to say, the rest of the day was cold, wet and miserable, weather-wise.  Our friends messaged us that they were extremely intelligent and decided to go home.  We will reschedule.  We, the Kimballs, decided to tough it out since we were already there and spent the rest of the day and evening having a fairly marvelous time despite the weather.  Overall, although each move from place to place was fairly chaotic and filled with headcounts, we had a wonderful time.  We left the two parks at 8pm, and drove home, wondering how Bill and I managed to work for 10 years in theme parks, and how after only a year and a half away, our bodies can’t even manage 9 hours.  Every joint hurts and will hurt worse in the morning. Can’t wait.  We grabbed some inexpensive take-out and headed home.  15 trips from the car to the house with pizza, breadsticks, sleeping children, diaper bags, Nintendo DS’s, cameras, and bags of purchases and we declared the day a success!

Casadie's Adventure

Take one girl who has loved to perform for adoring audiences since day one, add one mother who continues to search high and low for fun things for the kids to do, regardless of how busy the family is, toss in one very enticing radio ad, and stir.   Once things are good and mixed, put them in the oven for an hour, and there you have it! One custom-made, super-fun, adventurous journey for the Kimball Family!

Casadie has been charming acquaintances from the day she was born.  So much personality and love packed into one blond-haired, blue-eyed girl.  She adores meeting new people, and pulling them tightly into her circle of friends and family.  Meet her once, and within the 15 minute window of time that you talk to her, she'll be so adoring of you, that goodbyes are met with a pouty lip, a demanded hug and a promise that we will see each other again soon.  At home, she is a singer, a dancer, a miniature Lucille Ball, Carole Burnette and Lady Gaga all wrapped up in one package.  She belts out "Big girls don't cry", "Pokerface" and "Girls just wanna have fun" anytime you ask.  And mostly, during the times you don't ask.

She's been taking gymnastics now for a year.  Not regular, run-of-the-mill gymnastics, but Cirque-style gymnastics.  She's learning Rola Bola, Aerial Silks, Trapeze, Tightwire, etc, in addition to the standard trampoline and tumbling.  Orlando Circus School is one of her favorite places to be.  During the rehearsals for her Summer Camp performance, I watched her be one of the most mature, prepared performers.  She wasn't necessarily the best at any one particular art, but she knew everyone else's cues, and where everyone was supposed to be.  I watched her perfect her stage-whisper, helping the smaller children stay focused and on task without being overtly bossy.  She became a real leader.  I was proud.

So when the radio ad aired, inviting kids with an interest in acting to come audition for Adrian R'Mante's Celebrity Actor's Camp, I thought, "Why not?."  She didn't know why I got her out of bed at 7am one morning, or why I thrust a Shel Silverstein poem in front of her and told her to try and remember some of it.  It was several paragraphs, and she memorized it in less than an hour.  We arrived at the hotel, and saw dozens of other children, most dressed up so fancy with their make-up and hair all fixed.  We arrived in jeans and t-shirt.  We (I) felt a little conspicuous, maybe I didn't have a clue how to do this, and how to help my daughter succeed.  I sighed, and resigned myself to the idea that nothing would come of it, and we would just enjoy our morning together.

After a rousing introduction to the camp by a very energetic Adrian R'Mante, Casadie met briefly with a talent scout.  She said she loved gymnastics and that she was learning Russian.  Some notes were scribbled onto her form, and she was sent to the audition line.  I wasn't allowed to follow my baby into the curtained area where she would audition for Adrian, and waited nervously on a nearby chair.  In what seemed like nanoseconds, she was out, smiling and full of energy.  "He liked me! He said I was cute!"  I pestered her for more details, but she said she did her poem reading for him and he asked her some questions, and she couldn't remember them..  We were given some information about the camp, and told that if she was selected, she would get a call the next morning.

Casadie at the first day audition for the camp

The next day, I overslept, but didn't see any missed calls on my phone.  I jumped into the shower, and of course, that's when the talent scout called.  She left no message, and I spent the next couple of hours dialing her number every 15 minutes or so.  I worried that it was a one-call per household thing...you snooze, you lose kind of deal, and I had blown it with my desire for shampooed hair.  Stupid hygiene!  When finally I received a callback, they let me know that Casadie was invited to the camp, and that Adrian had really enjoyed her audition.  We were told to return to the hotel later that day for paperwork.  Bill and I sat and had a long talk about the cost, and did some preliminary research online.  Scams for children's acting gigs are rampant, and though we were confident this was not a scam, we wanted to be sure.  For every successful venture, you are bound to find naysayers online, and of course we did.  But we overwhelmingly found more positive comments than negative.  Adrian's camp is up-front about fees, and what they are covering.  He makes no promises about the children finding work, just promises that with hard work, and the chance to prove themselves, his camp will help them get a foot in the door.  He teaches both the children and the parents how to play the game, how to treat acting like a business, and what steps to take to get into this world. 

Casadie and Adrian R'Mante

Casadie and Adrian R'Mante

Although we could afford only the basic-level camp, we enrolled Casadie with enthusiasm.  Our philosophy is that a little learning is better than none, and any education you get, is exactly what you make of it.  My goal was for her to have fun, and for me to learn how to negotiate the world of agents and opportunities for her.  We got exactly what we paid for.  Casadie had an absolute BLAST at all of her camp sessions, and Adrian gave Bill and I tons of tips and solid information about how to go about getting headshots, how to have them printed, and how to distribute them.  Casadie also got to spent entire days working alongside and learning from her favorite celebrities, such as Adrian himself, Cameron Goodman, David DeLuise, Chester See and more.  We were sad to see the camp come to an end, but really, it was only a beginning.  She auditioned in front of an LA Casting Director, and some local agents.  She's already received a callback from a local agent, and we will be meeting with them this week to discuss representation.

Casadie getting last-minute tips from Adrian before her audition in front of several key people!

Moments after her audition.  She LOVES the feeling of performing and she came out dancing and running into our arms!

Just this week, she also received a call she was highly anticipating.  At the end of each regional camp across the country, Adrian selects a handful of campers to potentially attend an "Invitation-only" camp in Hollywood.  In July and August 2011, Casadie will spend 3 weeks learning the business from the inside out, and it will culminate in a performance in front of more LA-based agents and casting directors.  She will work with a number of working actors and celebrities, increasing her acting network.  Actors like to work with children they've worked with before, so these kids get offers routinely.  This thing could truly take off for her.  If it doesn't, she have an absolutely priceless memory for the rest of her life.  Figuring out the money and logistics is the next step.  In addition to a very reasonable fee for a 3 week camp in Los Angeles, there are flights, lodging and incidental expenses to consider.  In a period of time where we're still trying to make ends meet while recovering from our layoffs, this might seem like a frivolous expense, but in reality, we know there's a short window here of opportunity, her interest and desire and her age level.  When this is easily affordable for us in a few years, they may not be casting blond-haired, blue eyed 13 year olds.  This might very well be the window that God opened when he closed the door on our careers.  Maybe I found homeschooling as a way of being more flexible and open to opportunities.  Maybe Bill and I are meant to manage our lives in a way that puts the children first, rather than our financial security.  Who knows? 

I'm very dedicated to making sure that if it does take off, Casadie knows normalcy in her life.  I will not raise the next Lindsey Lohan, I will not let acting usurp family.  Homeschooling and layoffs have brought our family closer and more connected, I will not allow anything to undo that.  But as I sit here, I can't help but hope that one day, I'll get to go sit in a theater, buy a tub of popcorn and a large soda, and sit down and watch my very talented, very lovable daughter act out her dream.

Yard Sale Queen

As hobbies go, holding yard sales qualifies as pretty lame.  So, let’s just call it an ‘alternate income source’.  Well, that’s also kind of lame.  Hmmm,  well anyway, I’m sort of addicted.  I’ve always been financially challenged, so the occasional burst of spending money after a sale is very motivating.  My sales, even on their worst days tend to net me at least $300, and have even reached the stratospheric levels of $1200-$1400!  

That isn’t to say though, that holding yard sales is easy.  It can come with quite a bit of hassle.  As someone who abhors hassle, I’ve come up with some tried and true tips for minimizing drama and problems!

1. Have a couple of willing teenagers to help.  Or, at least have teenagers that you can FORCE to help.  Threaten them with eviction, or use the ever-available “I gave birth to you, so you’ll darn well take a shift out here so I can get a shower” guilt trip.  Just make sure to educate them on the prices you expect, so you don’t hear “Well, I *think* my Mom wants .50 for that limited edition Hummel figurine, I’m not sure.  Yeah, ok...a quarter will be fine.”  Also, make sure your helpers have enough street smarts to know when a person asks about a “rack”, that they don’t assume the guy is talking about the shoe rack, and instead begins walking away with your husband’s $200 storage rack that you’re using as temporary shelving.  For a dollar.

2. Sell ANYTHING.  Nothing is too weird, or even gross.  I once had a box of junk a friend gave me, which I dumped onto a table without sorting.  An hour later, a woman asked “How much?” while holding aloft a Ziploc bag of those small, pink, foam hair curlers.  With hair still attached.  .25 cents, baby!  And I didn’t even feel guilty!

3. Speaking of stuff, GET SOME.  Get so much out on your tables and lawn that people can’t possibly see it all from their car, and they’re forced to get out and shop.  This way, if nothing else, your adorable 7 year old has a guaranteed customer base for her snack shack.

4.  If you don’t have stuff, call in the cavalry.  Your friends are usually happy to do a little spring cleaning of their own, without the hassle of going to drop off at Goodwill.  I’ve been blessed with friends who have dropped off clothes, toys, stuffed animals, pots, pans, and even furniture! They claim I’m helping them, but as always, I’m touched, because their cast-offs have sent my son to Japan, and after our dual layoffs, made car payments, kept our lights on, helped Santa make it a nice Christmas morning, and even put food on our table.

5. Learn local haggling guidelines.  In the Northwest, where I’m from, if you priced something at say…$5.00, the customers would generally offer half, maybe rounded down to $2.  Then, they’ll good-naturedly engage is in the negotiations, and end up paying $3 or so.  Everyone’s happy.  In Florida, apparently a $5.00 item is only really worth 50 cents, and if you don’t immediately agree to this dramatic price drop, then the item, your house, your outfit, your hairstyle, landscaping, children, pets, the slant of your driveway and even the way you stand are the most disgusting thing/s they’ve ever had the misfortune of encountering.  This is actually them being nice, though.  If you happen to counter with “Um..well, no, but I’d go $4.00”, you’ll be hit with a volley of insults and muttered proclamations about your parentage.  My advice here is to stick to your guns.  I’d much rather GIVE the item to charity after my sale is over than sell it for a quarter, well below even it’s minimal yard-sale value.  I have to have standards.

6.  Have bags on hand.  But keep them hidden.  Apparently, yard sales have become just an outdoor version of Target. The customers noted above, when they DO score a passable bargain from me, always *demand* a bag.  If I happen to not have stocked myself up in plastic bags before my sale, I’m hit with the same litany of disgusted looks again.  Go green, people!  I’m surprised they haven’t started asking for receipts and frequent shopper discount cards.  Laminated.

  

7. Finally, if you buy items for your children’s snack shack, buy things you’ll enjoy eating.  When it’s slow, don’t be surprised when those big blue (green/brown/hazel) eyes come batting and they say “Mom, would you like to buy a soda? Nobody is coming to my snack shack.” *blink, blink*  “Yes, dear, someone gave me a quarter for that couch earlier today, and Alex got a quarter for my Hummel figurine.  I’ll take a diet coke.”

The response?  “Mommy. *eye roll*  The sodas are $1. Don’t start with me.”

With these handy tips, you too can have a productive and successful yard sale.  Just call me when you’re done, and I’ll offer you a quarter for all of your leftovers.  Just be sure it comes in a bag.