The Woodall kids are some of my favorite comedians.

The following conservations–which Facebook kindly preserved for me during the last six weeks–are good examples of why they have me laughing several times a day.

(This one proves I’m one of those people who cleans more thoroughly when I know we’re getting company)
Cienna: Nana and Pappy are visiting this weekend. You know what that means.
Ty: What? We get toys?
Cienna: It means Mom is going to make us clean underneath all the couches.

(This one proves Ty thinks school breaks extend to chores at home)
Larry: It’s time to clean the playroom, guys.
Ty: But, Dad, we’re on winter break until Tuesday.

(This one proves some kid-friendly restaurants pick interesting background music)
Cienna: So did this guy write this song before or after he had one bourbon, one scotch and one beer?

(This one proves Dimitri frequently tries to make his own rules)
Me: Dimitri, did you just pee in the (bathroom) garbage can?
Dimitri: Yes my did.
Me: Why?
Dimitri: Boys pee everywhere.

(This one proves I have frequently exposed my daughter to the Rolling Stones)
Dimitri: Can I have the iPad now?
Me: It’s not your turn right now. It’s your sister’s turn.
Dimitri: But my said please.
Me: Yes, you did, and that was nice. But it’s Cienna’s turn now.
Ty: You can’t always get what you want, Dim.
Cienna: But you get what you need.

When something terrible happens, child psychologists say it’s best to be brief when trying to explain tragedy to kids.

So when Cienna, 9, and Ty, 5, had questions about the school massacre that took the lives of 20 children in Connecticut, I did my best to answer them.

Ty, who adores going to Kindergarten, was full of fear. With tears in his eyes, he asked, “Is the bad guy coming here next?”

I struggled to be strong and answer my son without crying. I tried to chase away images of a community living in horror during a season that’s supposed to be full of hope. I also tried to learn what my children heard about the crime between the school bus and our front door.

“No, he is not coming here. He is not alive anymore, and he will never hurt anyone again,” I said.

Deep down, I knew the gunman’s actions would affect some families forever, but I was trying to make my children feel safe and secure.

Cienna’s questions were a little harder to answer.

“Why would someone kill a little kid?” she asked.

I didn’t know. I still don’t know.

“There are bad people in the world, and somtimes they do terrible things. But you are safe, you are loved and everything will be OK,” I said.

Even as I said that, I silently prayed they wouldn’t become hardened by the collection of similar tragedies in recent years. I don’t want them to be afraid of going to hear a U.S. lawmaker speak or to attend the opening night of an anticipated movie or to shop at the mall or go to school.

“For every bad person, there are hundreds of good people. Thousands of good people. Millions of good people,” I said.

And I wasn’t being hyperbolic. In my lifetime, I’ve learned at least one thing to be true: For every villain, there’s a hero.

I knew I had done my job when their frowns faded away.

Soon, things started to feel a little closer to normal as I watched them play soccer with one of our neighbors.

The mother of my children’s friend sat next to me. I made her a cup of tea, and we enjoyed it in silence.

We had no words.

Maybe we were thankful to hear the laughter of our children. Maybe we felt guilty for feeling thankful.

But mostly our hearts were heavy as we thought and prayed for parents who would never hear that laughter again.

Cienna was born precocious, so I’ve had to field many interesting questions during the last nine years.

I specifically remember taking her to a photography studio when she was 2-years-old and having her ask me, “Why you dress me in orange, Mommy? Do you hate me?”

Luckily, I was able to reaffirm my love by reminding her that she was awesome. “Awesome people look great in every color,” I said.

And she did, in fact, look adorable in orange.

The much-loved 2-year-old Cienna during a photo shoot.

Seven years later she still asks questions that make me laugh; yesterday, after looking through a scrapbook I made to remember her earlier years, she said, “Who is Ja Rule? What did they do, and why is their name Ja Rule?”

In her scrapbook was a list of popular artists, songs, movies and average prices when she was born in 2003. That year, Ja Rule’s “Always on Time” was popular, and that’s why the rapper was included in her scrapbook.

“But why is his name Ja Rule?” she said.

I explained it was a stage name, but that didn’t soothe her curiosity.

“We need to Google him and find out what his real name is,” she said.

As we learned, Ja Rule’s real name is Jeffrey Atkins.

And just when I thought I was in the clear, she said, “OK. Now look up Phillip Phillips because I’m not convinced that’s his real name.”

The inquisitive Cienna “all grown up” at 9 years old. She claims 9 years old is “a big deal because it’s halfway to 18.”

I met a woman in Giant this weekend, and we bonded over orchids and the cleaning ritual we practice before decorating our homes for Christmas.

Each of us spent about 12 hours dusting places we usually ignore, using the vacuum attachments we typically neglect, sorting through ornaments and decorations, and working to make our homes spotless.

And for about two hours, my house was perfect.

Then the kids built Lego castles on my perfectly-polished table, soup cans and various bottles cluttered the counters while waiting to be taken to the recycling bin, the bathroom looked like it suffered a tsunami after my three children had bath time, and glitter from ornaments and pine needles littered the living room floor.

Though it was a light mess–and one that was easy to clean–it reminded me not to stress about things that can wait until tomorrow.

The 12 hours I spent cleaning would’ve been better spent doing anything with my kids. Our homes can wait. Our children, on the other hand, need to spend meaningful time with us.

And I must be reminded of this every year, because I found a few notes scribbled in a Christmas scrapbook that are worth repeating:

It’s easy to get caught up in the stress of the season. There are houses to decorate, gifts to buy, travel schedules to coordinate, family to host, presents to wrap, cookies to bake and school events to attend. But if we let that stress distract us from the people we love most, then we’re missing the whole point of Christmas.

These seven tips ensure we have a way to spend meaningful time with our kids every day of the week:

1. Take more walks. My family takes plenty of adventure walks during the warmer weather, but it’s OK to do it when it’s cold too. Just bundle up the kids and head out to see what nature has to offer in the winter. Even if it’s just 15 minutes, winter walks are charming ways to bond with your children. And everyone looks cuter with a red nose.

2. Play with their toys. Playing is something kids do very well, and adults could learn from them. Sometimes you just have to leave everything behind you and spend a day playing with Legos or a game system.

3. Tell the story of every ornament. As though it’s our version of an Advent calendar, every day I tell the story of a different ornament on our tree. The natural storytelling is a nice supplement to the books we read each night.

4. Meatless Mondays and Taco Tuesdays. Before our family had a full commitment toward vegetarian and vegan living, we celebrated Meatless Mondays and Taco Tuesdays. We had fun finding recipes every week, and sometimes Taco Tuesdays were Burrito Tuesdays. We learned pretty much anything worked in a burrito–including peanut butter and jelly, which we often sliced like little pinwheel cookies. Having a set theme each week makes for easy meal planning the whole family can participate in.

5. Make them your special helpers. Kids love to help. Whether you’re cleaning, cooking, decorating or writing Christmas cards, it’s easy to find jobs for them. My 9-year-old daughter likes sweeping the kitchen floor and helping me cook (still waiting for her to enjoy cleaning her room), my 5-year-old son helps me sort and put away laundry, and my 3-year-old son is handy with a sponge (though he rarely uses it on what he’s supposed to).

6. Serve banana sundaes. For each person who will be enjoying this treat, place one banana in the freezer. Take it out and let it thaw a tiny bit before putting it in a food processor. It creates a delicious ice cream consistency that can be adorned with your favorite toppings. And the best part of all–it’s healthy!

7. Wear funny clothes and be a couch vegetable. Sometimes the fun of the season is found in festive socks, handmade scarves, your favorite hoodie, furry slippers and comfy throws. The kids and I like to wear these things and snuggle while we act like couch vegetables (because it’s not just for potatoes) and watch our favorite Christmas movies.

Even if you only have time for one of these things, I promise you’ll have a happier day.

There’s a casserole in the oven, and the smell of baking sweet potatoes, pecans and bananas are setting the scene for a happy Thanksgiving.

 As my family and I watch the 86th annual Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, I’m simultaneously counting the many reasons I am thankful: a family to cuddle with during the parade; getting paid to do what I love; having the kind of mom who puts her grandchildren first; living in a beautiful home in a beautiful community, surrounded by lakes, rolling hills and a tree farm; lifelong friends who know me and still love me; that I was blessed with more brains than beauty; having the kind of life journey that’s made me stronger, not bitter; and that my friend Jaclyn was right–a girl’s 30s are better than her 20s.

But, most of all, I am thankful the three best people I know call me “mom.”

As though she was conducting her own little symphony, Cienna’s fleece-covered arms flailed about in the backseat of our Jeep Grand Cherokee.

She listed myriad giggle-inducing thrills she had to find during a Saturday trip to Hersheypark’s Christmas Candylane: The Claw, Tilt-O-Whirl, games, Smores and the man in red.

A sunny, 54-degree November day, and the harmony of instrumental Christmas music echoing from the carousel,  provided the perfect backdrop to help those wishes come true.

With three kids and two paternal grandparents in tow, we found charm and holiday spirit in the midstate. Lights in various shapes and colors hung from trees, food pavilions and other structures, with nary a corner or gate left undecorated. Live Christmas trees were potted throughout the park, and artificial ones were topped with Hershey Kisses, appealing to the part of my soul that firmly believes it’s never too early for a tree.

Several Christmas trees throughout Hersheypark were topped with Hershey’s Kisses during the opening weekend of Christmas Candylane.

As we crossed a bridge to get from one side of the park to the other, the kids stopped to feed ducks that were floating through a creek as fish swam below. In between tosses, we appreciated the glow of white and colored lights–some twinkling at different intervals, while others held a steady glow.

Some things were to be expected: the laughter of children on every ride, a cup of coffee in my father-in-law’s hand, costumed candy and my kids wanting chocolate.

The Woodall children and their grandfather met Milk Duds at Hersheypark on Saturday during the amusement park’s Christmas Candylane.

 But some things were unexpected: the opportunity to easily photograph my children with Santa, long lines that formed outside of doors to see one of the park’s Christmas shows and realizing how much my skee ball game has suffered.

Santa reminds the Woodall children to be good until Christmas, as he continues to make his list and check it twice.

It wasn’t a great game day for the Woodall family. During skee ball, a low amount of points were scored to redeem tickets for a small ball for each child. During a ball toss, there were no winners at all, calling my superior athleticism into question.

It’s quite possible my mother-in-law and I will return before season’s end to buy as many buckets of balls as we have to in order to go home with a plush Abominable Snowman. We need that flurry, messy-haired Yeti in our lives.

Games and rides aside, the park’s real magic came to life after sunset. The glow of Christmas lights reflected in my children’s eyes, visitors smiled at light displays as they carried hot chocolate and, somewhere between the park’s turnpike and the real turnpike, I realized why days like Saturday are so special.

As Black Friday grows into Black November and Cyber Monday turns into Mobile Monday, there’s no shortage of distractions this month. Shoppers aren’t waiting until Friday to get their deals this year; many stores are opening at 8 p.m. Thanksgiving Day. And we don’t need to be at a computer to shop online; we can buy things from our phones, iPads and other tablet devices.

On Thursday, when some of us may trade dessert for waiting in line at chain retailers, we’ll be thankful for days like Saturday. Days when you can let go of stress and schedules, leaving the busyness and rushing around by the wayside. Days when you don’t hurry through family dinners or worry about tomorrow. Days when your only responsibility is having fun at an amusement park.

Days when you can be young at heart, with Christmas morning in your eyes, reveling in a little holiday magic.