In our house, Santa comes to visit us on Christmas Eve. I honestly don't care what you do with your kids: whether he comes or doesn't, if he leaves coal, or candy. If he brings all of the gifts or just fills the stockings. It doesn't matter to me. And It doesn't matter to me if you chose to celebrate with him or without him. I firmly believe we all do what is best for us as parents and that we do what we think is best for our kids. What I do care about, is when your child tells mine that he's not real. You may think you are doing your child a favor by keeping your religious beliefs strong, or by telling them the truth about the man, but if your child believes that he isn't real and tells all the other kids at school, then what is the message you're sending? One of "My beliefs are more important"? One of "My truth is better than your truth"? I know a lot of parents these days are removing him from their celebrations either for religio

Dear Friends, 2013 has been extremely interesting (and long) year for our family, so I’d better start right off and give you a re-cap in case you don’t follow Eric or me on Facebook, there’s no time to waste! Just before Christmas, last year, my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer, she is now healthy and is cancer free, but her treatment and our need to finish rebuilding our house, and selling our house in North Dakota before we moved, played a huge role into our year. Just after Theodor’s first birthday on January 21st, the boys and I left Eric in Minot and we headed to Michigan for an undetermined amount of time (until we had a house in Colorado). The boys and I spent six months without Eric while he fixed up the house, worked his final days as a Missileer, and went to do some pretty cool things as an Assistant Hockey Coach for the Minot State Beavers, they WON NATIONALS! Eric was able to travel with the team and even attend the award ceremony at the

Recently, Henrik has created a new game, and he plays it almost daily. The game is called, "Moving to a new house". The rules are simple: you pack up everything. Seriously, everything...including the rug, and you move it to a whole different room. The first time I caught him playing this game he asked if he and the neighbor could go up stairs "to play away from the little kids". Because they are good kids, I obliged and was proud of myself for letting him be more independent.  They were playing nicely, there was no shouting or crying, and I didn't feel the need to check on them because I could hear nice conversations between the two of them. But, when it was time for the neighbor to go, I went up stairs and saw something I'd never thought I'd see: the entire play room, THE ENTIRE play room, was in Henrik's bedroom. Toys, not thrown all over the floor, but in the bins they belong in, neatly piled into a corner. The table and chairs, the rug... liter