The Meads are rocking now.

Santa brought us Rockband for Christmas, probably because he knows how awesome we are. Lily and Luke are getting down to our excellent noise here.

Owen on the drums, daddy on guitar and Lily as our dancer.

Boys working together to play sweet sweet Beatles music.

Oh, no! Someone gave me a microphone! Let's just say it wasn't pretty but it got the job done. We switched it around later with Owen on the vocals, Luke on the drums, daddy on electric guitar and me on bass guitar. That was probably the best arrangement.

Lily came and literally ripped the microphone from my hand. Then started in on her own version of Eight days a week. Ohhh aoooao allalaiia aldkadlllll is about what it sounded like, but very very funny.

Christmas day for Lily a photo essay.

Upstairs watching family play Rockband and wearing her oven-mitt on her foot.

The process of getting it on.

Strapping herself into her new stroller, (nude of course) and the rejected baby on the floor.

She put this dress up skirt on herself that my mom had made for her. Then once she saw I wanted to take a picture of her she immediately tried to get out of it.

Getting ready to go out to breakfast together wearing her new sweater that Nan knipped for her. We used our four wheel drive for the very first time that morning too. That is after we avoided crashing into a parked car on the street and instead crashed into their lawn. Just some more Christmas excitement.

Christmas day was here.

Just after Santa finished his work Chad and ran out and took a picture, at approximately 1am too. That Santa sure was up late, especially considering that Rubby woke up at 5:3oam Christmas morning.

Lily was the first one up Christmas morning. 5:30am too, no less. She came out and was so excited to play in her new kitchen! That Santa's elves told us was an absolute PAIN to put together!

The boys rolled out of bed at 7am and were, let's just say. . . a wee bit excited.

Checking out the stockings.

Opening up Christmas joy. Luke's favorite gift: razor spark scooter, Owen's favorite gift: he says connect four but I think it was rock band if I had to compare both reactions, Lily favorite gift: the kitchen set (not the American girl baby doll that daddy bought special for her but she couldn't feign to touch and if you handed it to her she would chuck it overhead).

A story of the birth of Christ.

After dinner my lovely friend Courtney directed the children in the nativity story. The above picture not only highlights the snow we had that evening, but how Rubby goes from diaper to no diaper.

We had angels, shepherds and dazzled audience members.

Kids were still pretty excited.

Courtney working her magic. It was possibly the rowdiest rendition of the nativity that I've been privy to but still thoroughly enjoyable.

King Herod chatting it up with the shepherds, angels, and Joseph.

Christams eve with family and friends.

That 78 degree day was followed by the first white Christmas in Dallas in eighty years. Christmas eve day it started snowing in the afternoon and got continually larger and larger flakes as the day went on. Till it was a full on snowstorm by Christmas eve, gusting winds and snow coming down in droves. This only added to the excitement of that day, (party that night with friends, snowing in Texas! and Santa coming tonight! WOW) the kids were the most ramped up I've seen them in awhile.

My gift to kitty. Not making him immediately get down.

After my traditional dinner we indulged ourselves with Courtney's yummy fondue. Three different kinds of chocolate and dozens of assorted dipping companions (I tried my first blackberry, cause I figured dipped in chocolate what could go wrong?) equals true love.

During the storm on Christmas eve I told Luke to go outside and look cold. To which he responded, "I don't need to look it mom! I am cold!"

I've made this dinner for eight years now and it's only in the last three that everything has started turning out. Prime rib, creamed corn, mashed potatoes, Yorkshire pudding. But it certainly turns out now! YUM-O. This year we celebrated with seven extra adults and nine more children! Got full use out of my 120 ft. dining table this year.

SANTA! ! ! I know him! I know him!

Almost everyone was super pumped to see him. I'll let you guess which one wasn't.

Moments before she was bopping all around Northpark mall, happy as a clam. I guess she has something against old, hairy, chubby men. All the kids go through this; that is until they learn he is the giver of all things toys and candy. Then they shape up real quick.

Santa telling the boys that if they hear "this" on the roof to fall fast asleep because Santa is on the way.

Waiting to see Santa at Northpark. We've been coming to see this Santa for seven years now.

Producing flowers from her often folded hands.

Rubby amazed me the other day. She comes running inside from playing outside with her brothers and hands me a pansy.

It was amazing till I saw the other ten in her hands and some dirt and roots attached and put two and two together that they were from the neighbors recently planted flower bed. This girl had better NEVER miss curfew.

Joys of a texas winter.

Two days to Christmas to go and we're all outside. It's 78 degrees and all is right with the world.

Considering putting these things on.

Got it.

Deep in thought.

The worlds cutest body. If I do say so myself, which I do. . .

We know how to move it move it.

This is the Chad we know. Serious businessman by day, solid gold dancer by night.

He dances with babies the best.

After a dancing injury. Luke cradling his baby kitty. He walks around and can often be found sitting with kitty on his lap belly side up. Chillin.

Blowing kisses can make everything better.

About to start the show.

This has nothing to do with that.

If a photo could sum up one persons life this one would be it for Rubby. Nude, holding the kitty too tightly and watching Spongebob. The trifecta.

This is what this post is really about, sweet Mr. Owen. Here he is with his science experiment. They planted amaryllis bulbs and charted what happened next in his science auxiliary. It's a Christmas miracle that it survived what could only be described as aggressive watering.

Owen chowing down on his breakfast before school.

Before school let out I awoke to this scene one school day. Owen had woken up early and made breakfast for everyone. He made everyone their respective favorites; Luke a cream cheese bagel, Lily yogurt and granola, and for himself four English muffins and three sausage links. Waters for everyone and chilly water for Luke because it is a very important part of who he is.

Revenge? Revenge will be mine.

Lily. Oh sweet Lily. What has happened to us? Remember when we liked you? Things were better then. We used to talk about how fun and cute you were. Always saying things like, "Lily did the cutest thing today, . . ." And feeling a wee bit guilty because we liked you best. But no more. You are not the favorite anymore (that spot has been taken over by the cat). You are now something to be endured.
I'm sure your wondering why you lovely mother who loves you so dearly would say such vicious things about her only daughter. Hummm, let me see. . .maybe it has something to do with the fact that you are now taking off all your clothes and pooping/peeing in various places around the house.

Oh yes, that's definitely it. So don't feel too badly for Rubby, she's having her fun now. Destroying innocent couches, tables, fragile cups, anything cream, candles, anything a ball point pen could damage (and we own one ball point pen! Which I'm always moving and hiding from her!) and mother's favorite bangle bracelet. Enjoy it while you can; because I'm already plotting revenge, my little one.

She wants to grow up.

Lily is in a hurry. Kinda like I was. Friday night on our way to a birthday party she wanted to have a conversation. Except her English isn't so good. She speaks excellent gibberish though. She would start it out in a voice just like the boys (when their trying to get my attention from a distant room).

"MOM!!!"

To which I would respond, "What!" (if I said anything else she would simply start over again.)

Then she began her convo in another language. But she would go on for a minute or two. Then we'd start the whole process over again.

"MOM!!!", . . . "What!!!"

How can you tell it's Christmas time here.

Because we're rocking the Guitar Hero again.
I have to super concentrate while I play on Medium, and my son still wastes me.

Owie looking smooth in his fancy robe. He beat daddy on this round.

They both stomp their feet to the beat.

Owen switches between medium and hard and Chad goes between hard and expert. Me, I can kill on easy and be killed on medium. Owens competitive side comes out while playing; and he kindly rubs it in that he is beating you while playing. You know, because it's fun to talk trash.