Merry Christmas!

In the interest of saving time and money (and the fact that I didn't plan ahead and don't have time to get Christmas cards out), we thank you kindly to receive this as your Christmas card.

But first, you have to understand the steps leading up to the Christmas picture.

1. Finding coordinating outfits:
This is a whole story in itself, but Mike said it wasn't funny enough to be here. I suppose he's the editor.

2. Getting the girls to the portrait studio without messing themselves up:
If I get myself ready first, the girls mess me up while I get them ready. If I get them ready first, they mess themselves up while I get ready. I tried for the latter. It worked pretty well except for the constant scolding, "Don't mess with your - hair, pants, shirt. Don't - eat, drink, spit, pick." You get the idea.

3. Waiting in line at the picture place:
We got there right on time and there was one family ahead of us. Since there was only one camera, (that's right, I went for a cheap place,) we knew we'd be waiting awhile. Luckily, that family's baby started bawling, and they had to cancel their appointment. While we felt SO sorry for them (heh, heh), we made it in much quicker.

4. The "natural" poses they made us hold:
We walked in and saw a miniature chaise. The photographer asked Mike to lay on it. He looked like a giant on this little couch. Apparently it was "completely normal." I was to sit at his feet at an angle that instantly gave me a cramp in my hip, while the children flanked us. After several pictures in this exact same pose, I felt ridiculous, and asked for a close up. She took two close-up shots, and that was the extent of the family pictures.

5. Picking the perfect picture:
The "natural" pose was amazing. But in a bad way. I don't know how this pose so perfectly captured Mike being so uncomfortable on that mini-couch, but it did. But the really magical part of it was the way I was posed at such an interesting angle, that every fat cell was squished to the front. They built little colonies and towers while waving at the camera. I was horrified. "No one will ever see this picture," I vowed. The close-up that I requested was the only family pose I liked.

6. The bill:
I walked out of there paying $10.99. It really helps cut costs when you hate all the pictures!

But seriously:

We wish you and your families a very merry Christmas. We absolutely believe that Jesus is the reason to celebrate. The miracle of His birth is an amazing gift. We thank you all for caring enough about our family to read all these stories, and to send back some of your own.

In Christ,

Mike, Amy, Abby, and Hannah Johnson

Private Parts

I have been a bit concerned about comments and actions that have come my way in the last few weeks. For instance:

While checking out at Walmart, the cashier asked me if I wanted to use my WIC coupons for the milk.

I have gained a few pounds and begrudgingly went shopping for larger shirts. When I tried one on that was much too big, Abby said, "Just keep it. When you get bigger, it will fit."

At yet another store, I found a flattering shirt that I was excited about. The young cashier only justified my good taste when she said, "This is new! Well, now I'm going to have to go shopping to get one of these!" And then added, "My Mom will love it!"

But I suppose the most insulting/interesting one is:

While I was checking out (again at Walmart), I was putting the items on the counter and managing Hannah at the same time. There was nothing hectic about it. I thought it was going pretty well, until the 75-year-old lady behind me got off her motorized cart and began helping me put my groceries on the belt. This sweet senior citizen with impared walking abilities thought I needed help.

What about me is prompting these disturbing reactions??

Perhaps it is because I am raising these children:

At the dinner table, Abby prayed and gave thanks. When it was Hannah's turn, the prayer went, "Dear God, please let me eat dog food. Amen."

The Thanksgiving prayer was this:
Abby: "I am thankful for my mom and dad and sister."
Hannah: "Thanks that my pj's have feet."

I was eating lunch with Abby at school. One of her classmates picked up the OJ that her mom had packed. She put it away without opening it. She looked at me and explained, "I don't like anything natural. And this says ALL natural, so I know it's bad."

I overheard Hannah talking to Mike. She stopped for a moment and said, "I'm going to go toot over there so that I don't bother you." She walked in the other room. Abby began looking for her and called, "Hannah?" From the other room, she cried, "Just a minute!!"

Noticing a booger on Hannah's finger, I swiped in with a tissue and took it. "HEY!" she shouted. "I was going to eat that!"

Mike asked Abby if a neighbor boy went to her school. I answered for her, "No, he goes to private school." Abby got a confused look on her face. "Private school? Is that a school where you have to show your private parts?"

I Completely Missed October?

As I was going through the pictures I need to order, I realized that October came and went without a word. October gets its own blog, because it is one of our favorite months. Just down the street from us is a wonderful (and free) Pumpkin Patch. (Thanks for the entertainment, Hall's Pumpkin Farm.) We are there every weekend in October.


The girls love riding around in the wagons and eating popcorn.
There is a small hay maze for the kids. It is supposed to work like a maze, but all the kids run on top of the hay. I loved these action shots of hay jumping.
I laughed aloud when I saw this next picture. I wanted a sweet shot of my angels and me. "Hold still! Smile! Look happy! Hold STILL!!!" This is what we got instead. It is not staged, it's completely real. (Best family picture so far this year.)
The best part of the pumpkin farm is the short hayride they have. Everyone piles on bales of hay in a trailor. The farmer pulls you in his tractor. First you go to feed the donkeys. The farmer gives you bread and the donkeys eat it with their lips. It's pretty cute. Then you go to the cows, which is my favorite part. If you have never hand-fed a cow, it's quite an experience. They have insanely long tongues, which they use to scoop up the food you give them. You have to act fast, because the tongues are very slobbery. In fact, on a windy day, big lines of cow saliva fly through the air. Where else offers flying cow spit?


This Halloween, Hannah dressed as a pig,

and Abby as a princess.
At Abby's school carnival, the first thing they want to do is the cake walk. Mike tries to talk them into waiting because we don't want to carry their cakes around all night, but they insist that they will be responsible for the cakes. (Yeah, right.) So we buy tickets for the cake walk, and while we wait in line, I lecture the girls on gracious losing. "There are 20 people trying to get one cake, girls. You probably won't win one, and that's okay." In one ear and out the other, you know. So the cake walk starts, and when the music ends, Abby's number is called. Abby wins! In that split second, I see the massive delima. Abby has won a cake, and Hannah has not. Hannah bawls loudly about the injustice of life while Abby gleefully picks a delicate pink dog-shaped cake. While I'm consoling the loser, the worker says, "Now for round two!" Abby leaves the game with her prize, and I begin walking a sobbing Hannah around the circle again with 19 other losers. I offer a silent prayer begging for a second cake. Folks, God answers prayers, because when the music stopped, Hannah's number was called. Those poor 18 other children had to watch both my children win. True to Hannah's personality, which was suddenly purely delightful, she picked a monkey.
Hannah soon got tired of holding her cake, which became my property, but all night long, Abby proudly displayed her masterpiece. She saw several familiar people, and each time she did, she held out her cake for words of admiration. Each time someone fawned over her cute cake, Hannah frantically ran to me, grabbed her cake, and held it out to the admirer. When the friend left, the cake was mine again.

We love and miss you, October.

Abby's Post

Abby would like to share some pictures with you. She loves the camera, and these are a few of the hundreds she's taken. Most of them have me in my pj's with some snarled expression on my face. They don't make the cut.

Is it December Already?

I have been receiving some complaints about my blogger absence. You know what, people? Some of us are busy! But now that I have a moment, I'll attempt to make your day a bit brighter.

I'm finishing up my first semester teaching Child Development at the local community college. It has been an amazing learning experience for me, and I look forward to teaching the same class next year so that I can expand my knowledge and teaching skills.

Mike got back from Cambodia (mission trip) in early October. He had an amazing time and was just today talking about it with the girls. His desire to seek justice for those in human bondage is stronger than ever.

Has this brightened your day yet? Talk of teaching and slavery is so uplifting!

Speaking of slavery. . . .

Let's get on to the girls, because that's who most of you care about anyways! I'm afraid the stories are weighted more heavily on Hannah, since I spend more time with her. (Sorry, my sweet Abby!)

My sister-in-law recently had a baby. (Hi, Baby Molly!) While she was pregnant, Hannah struggled to grasp the whole "baby in Shelley's tummy" thing. Once she had finally learned to accept that, we told her that Baby Molly would be coming out of Shelley's tummy soon. This excited Hannah, because she thought that Baby Molly would come out of Shelley's tummy and move to Mommy's tummy. Then, when Hannah turns seven, Baby Molly will move to Hannah's tummy.

Abby was begging to leave the house, and I told her we would once Hannah went potty. I was ignoring the children at the time, so I gave Abby the task of getting Hannah in the bathroom. I could hear Abby's fruitless efforts to move her stubborn sister. In frustration, she came in my room, wrote something down, and walked out. Curious, I followed. I found her standing in front of Hannah, holding a paper in front of Hannah's face.


Since Abby and I have bangs, we need more frequent haircuts than Hannah does. But if you've ever tried to do something and not involve Hannah, you know that that child MUST do everything her sister does. So now I call our hairdresser and make appointments for two bang trims and one fake cut. She schedules us, and that is exactly what she does. Abby and I go first, then Hannah gets in the chair, then has her hair sprayed down and fake cut. It actually works quite well!

My mom took Hannah out to lunch at a deli. When they were finished, Gamma asked Hannah to stay at the table while she got take-home boxes. Hannah asked why and Gamma said, "Because if we both leave, the workers will think we are all done, and they will take our food." Hannah begrudginly stayed put. When Gamma came back, Hannah proudly declared, "A worker came by and I said, 'Don't you touch our food!!'"



One afternoon, Hannah was sitting on my dad's lap. She studied him for a moment and said, "Papa! You've got hair in your nose and ears!"

I was attempting to get Hannah to wash her hands, but she was refusing. "Hannah," I said, "you have germs all over your hands." As quick as a three-year-old, she said, "That's okay, I'll just lick off the germs!" and stuck her hands in her mouth.


Hannah's new word is "amn't." ("Am not," of course!) I think it makes perfect sense, and wonder why it isn't (is not) in use generally.

Shopping at Sam's Club on Saturday at noon took on a whole new delight for the girls, because the free sample booths were plentiful. The next Saturday, I told the girls they could pick what we did that day. With joy, they asked to go to Sam's Club. We are so cultured!