'tis the season to be jolly

Deck the halls with boughs of holly

'tis the season to be jolly

fa la la la la

la la.  la.  la.

black friday shopping

On Black Friday, we got together with some of the cousins to do our typical day-after-Thanksgiving-shopping trip.  Christmas tree shopping, that is.  Because of the recent snow storm and in light of last year's adventure, we didn't go the usual route- which involves getting BLM permits and a jaunt into the real forest to track down our perfect tree.  Instead, we had to compromise.  We still drove to the mountains, we still hiked around the hillside to find our tree.  Only this time, we had to battle a few crowds.  The kids were a little undone with the fact we were at a tree lot (they think that's a bad word) and not in the "real mountains".  But, you know.  Sometimes you gotta give a little.

We bundled up everyone (Claire wore her pajamas, because. . .well, why not?)   Brrrrr!  It was cold, cold, cold!  Even Mr. Samuel made the trek. 

It seems our family is always the very, very last ones to find a tree. Something about waiting to hear angels sing, because, in case you don't know, finding the right tree is a very, very big deal. Sometimes it takes a while to get the go ahead from heaven.

Finally, after trekking all over two tree lots and taking lots of crap from Courtney (who I swear is just as picky as the girls and I) and Uncle Shawn, I saw beams of light. The only problem was that another family had already heard angels too. About the the same tree, that is. So. The only thing for me to do was to stand there. There they stood in a circle, holding a family council to make sure that this was indeed the only true tree for them. And there I stood, using all my evil powers to send them bad vibes about the tree.

It worked.

Just as the patriarch of the clan was about to fell my beauty down, he looked to the left and Lo! "What about that one?" With his suggestion (it must have been my evil powers, because, really- the new choice was ug. ly.), they all quickly agreed that they had indeed found the one and only true tree whilst I gave a silent cackle and made a mad dash for the men to come ASAP with a chainsaw before anyone changed their minds.

I was glad it all worked out so peacefully, as I was a bit reluctant to use my pepper spray ( I hear that's the cool way to get what you want on Black Friday).

So.  With our purchases decided, we cut those babies down and tied them onto the vehicles (okay, maybe I sat inside the car with the kids and a blazing heater while the guys took over that duty.)  Then, we packed up and headed down the mountain to the nearest hot chocolate vendor.  Joy to the world!

Let the holidays begin!  We have our tree!

gettin' ready for turkey day

A few days before Thanksgiving, the girls invited a few friends over to play and to have some turkey fun.  They had a great time being silly, crafting thier turkeys, and of course, snitching a few nibbles while they worked.  Great afternoon!

my sweet kate

After seven weeks of my mister being away, I'm decided.  I like my life lots better when we're together.  Really, I like my life either way, but let's face it.  It's a gazillion times nicer the together way.

Last night was one of those nights.  Enough said.  Anyhow, I was dragging myself through the cleaning-up-before-I-head-to-bed phase, when Kate came out of her bedroom and asked, "Mom, what can I do to help?"  I don't think there are another seven words in the English language that could have meant as much to me as those seven did last night. 

I thought about last week when I was tired and trying to settle everyone down for bedtime.  I didn't feel too sad, but had to put on my "I mean business" hat (if you know what I mean).  Pretty soon I heard Kate in her room, sobbing.  (You've never heard heart wrenching until you've heard Kate cry.  She cries with all her heart.)  It took me a while to get her to explain her sadness, but she finally let it out.  Throwing her arms around my waist, she cried, "Mom, I just can't stand it when you're sad." 

What a sweet, sweet girl.

I think I'll think of her kindness all day today.  Armed with those memories and a morning bit of chocolate, I think we're going to make it. 

samuel and abigail

When my sister and I found out we were expecting babies (turns out, they are the last for both of us!) close to the same time, we were so happy.  To make it even more fun, she got a little girl and we got our little man.  Abigail has five older brothers, and Samuel, of course, has four older sisters!  (Aunt Kelsey says she thinks she's more worried about Samuel amidst all those girls than Abigail with the boys!)

Jodi and I laugh and talk about how fun it is for each of us to swap pink for blue and vice versa.  The other day Jodi was telling me about how much she loves decking Abigail out in all of the cute girl things, and worried out loud that as she gets older, what if all she wants to wear is Under Armour and basketball shorts?  (I highly doubt it- she's got a pretty stylin' mom!)   We laughed.  I love to see Jodi with a bundle of pink and ribbons and we are having just as much fun with all these boy clothes.  Who ever said boy clothes aren't as cute?  I'm thinking they're pretty fun!

The day of Samuel's blessing, we took the chance to snap a few pictures of the two of them.  Abigail is two months older, but you wouldn't know it.  Our boy's got some meat on him! 

I love the look on his face in this picture.  Kind of like a "yeah, chicks dig me" sort of look.

"Abigail and Samuel sitting in a tree. . ." (except not really the k-i-s-s-i-n-g part, cuz you know. . . they're cousins and all).

fun for all and all for fun

Fun.  Funny.  Funtastic?

Just thinking of a few words to describe these kiddos of mine.  Here's a few stories about this week. . .

Uh, wait just a minute.






Okay, I'm back.  Had to take a wee little break as Claire was army crawling out of her bedroom (she's a sneaky one, that girl).  Never wanting to miss a party, she has been known to be on the very most edge of sleep only to stand up and do a cartwheel to wake herself up again.  She's a party a minute.  Her current obsession is Mickey Mouse's Three Musketeers.  She watches it every morning.  And then?  The rest of us get to play the part of Donald, Daisy, Goofy, or Minnie for the rest of the day.  Also, she's a teensy bit angry at her dad for leaving her home this week.  "I told him to wait for me!  I told him I was going to work with him this day!"  He did take her to work with him on Saturday (he's a brave man), and in her mind, she's now a permanent fixture.  A day with dad + lunch at Arby's = a good day.  A favorite story from her work day with dad was when he was getting her dressed.  She chose her family reunion tie-dyed shirt.  Then she told him, "Dad, you should where your tie-dye shirt too!"  When he told her he didn't know where it was (he tries to forget), she said, "You should find it, Dad!  And then everyone would see you and say, 'Wow!  That guy looks sooo cool!'" 

I'm not way into decorating this year.  We have a tree up, and enough to feel festive, but I don't feel worried about the details this year.  Just enough to make it fun for the kids.  What I am loving, though is the growing number of presents under our tree.  Not one is from me.  The girls are so excited to give presents to each other and have been busy making and gathering.  The other day I had to smile when I saw a squishy wrapped present that bares a remarkable resemblance to a pillow.  When questioned, the giver told me with glee, "I thought she would like it!"  A day or two later, I saw another certain sister sneak out with a pair of favorite pants rolled up in a bundle and stuff them into a gift bag for her younger sister.  Love these moments.

Mr. Samuel found his hands this week.  Did I mention how cute he is?  I love watching him staring at his hands, rubbing them together and turning them around with this look on his face that says, "Wow!  These things are really cool!"  Along with his hands, he's discovered his voice.  We love sitting in front of him and letting him tell us all of his big stories.  He's got the best grin- I've heard a few people say that he smiles with his whole body!  The other morning Ryenne stole a few quick moments with him before she went off to school.  With a happy smile, she concluded that we should take him to the old folks home one day.  "I'll bet he'd make all their spirits soar," she said.

Emmy's still struggling with going to school.  She claims to have terrible tummy aches, but they miraculously disappear the minute she's home (on a happy note, I guess that means she likes me?)  To my dismay, all my usual techniques aren't working.  In fact, I'm failing miserably.  We've gone to the doctor to make sure things aren't awry.   I've spoken with the teacher and the principal to try to discover any concerns she may have.  When I asked Kate if Emmy seems to have enough friends, she told me, "Mom, that's not a problem for Emmy."  Last week it got so bad that she started hiding from me when it came time for school.  In fact, one morning she was one step ahead of me and when I went to wake her up she was gone.  Gone!  I looked for what seemed like an eternity and finally announced in a bit of a panic, "Emmy, if you are hiding, please come out!" (She didn't).  Finally I found her waaaay under her bed.  I'll just say we've had a fair share of mornings (as in every one) that I've had to literally push her out the door in tears.  It breaks my heart.  But.  Here's the happy part.  I had a revelation the other night.  I remembered how Emmy really likes to look cute.  A lot.  So I pulled out the box of "handydowns" and we found some new-to-Emmy clothes.  The next morning she was dressed to kill and I went the extra mile curling her hair.  I'll tell you what- cuteness has definitely reduced the tears.  Not cured, mind you.  But hey, I'm all about baby steps.  I told Courtney we may have to break the budget to get that girl an education, but whatever works, eh?

Now, on to Kate.  Tonight she was making her way to bed when she turned back and buried her head into a pillow.  She seemed to be quite upset about something.  When I investigated, she sighed in despair.  "It's just that I don't know what I"m going to do with my life, and what if I have kids like her?"  The last statement was directed toward Claire who was (as is typical) jumping off something and making all kinds of racket.  All I could think of to tell her is that sometimes I am haunted by those very questions.  Just kidding.  I'm pretty sure I'm going to make a career out of this mothering business, and those kids?  Yip, they're mine.  Alllllll mine. 

Another Kate story.  This morning I was helping her choose an outfit, and I must say I outdid myself.  She looked mighty dapper.  The only problem is that her leggings just met the top of her boots and she was afraid she might get a little chilly.  To that, I suggested that she wear some tall socks and pull them up over her leggings so the top of them showed just over her boots.  I mentioned that it was "the style".  She tried it on one foot, but was not convinced.  After I encouraged her with my best sales pitch, she continued to dress her other foot and asked dryly (in a way that only Kate can), "So, mom.  Since when do you get out enough to see what's 'in style'?"  Okay, maybe I've seen it in a magazine or something, okay? 

Last but not least, I leave you with my Ryenne.

This girl speaks to me sometimes about what she calls her "awesome powers".  After walking around the DI last night with her in this get-up (it got better as we went), I am convinced.

That girl definitely possesses some awesomeness.  And, she makes me laugh.

Now that's a super power I appreciate.

it's not my fault

I once heard something about parenting that has given me a lot to think about.  Someone told me that as parents, we tend to take too much credit for our children's successes, and blame ourselves too much for their mistakes.  In reality, these little people of ours come with their own unique packaging, traits and talents and agency created by a loving Heavenly Father, wrapped and sent to us to bless us, try our patience, and teach us a gazillion different things.

 A few weeks ago a woman in our ward came up to me following relief society and told me that she had cleaned the church with my family the day before (not me, I was being lazy at home!).  She said she was so touched by their willingness and sweet attitudes as they worked. 

Ummm.  My children?  I'll admit, it took the words right out of my mouth.

Because I have the privilege of witnessing my children in all their glory (that being the good along with the very most stinkerish moments), I sometimes lose sight of what great little people they can be.  In fact, I try to remember another piece of parenting wisdom I once heard.  (I put all of these little bits in a special place and pull them into my mind when I'm teetering on the edge of a perceived parenting failure.)  Someone told me that everyone needs a safe place to fall apart.  So when my kids are a complete mess, I try to remind myself that I'm glad that they can fall apart at home.  After all, I want home to be their safe place- the place where they can be their best and worst and will know we'll love them either way.  That said, I have the glorious opportunity of witnessing a whole lot of falling-aparts.

Anyway, it was really nice of this kind sister to tell me something nice about my girls.  She even teared up a little bit when she told me so I could see she was really touched.  It took me back a little, because they sometimes move me to tears when they are working at our house, but not in quite the same way if you know what I mean.  More in a make-me-want-to-crawl-back-in-bed-and-pull-the-sheets-over-my-head sort of way.  Anyhow, it was super duper heartening to hear a bit of good news and it made me decide two things:

1.  When I see something good in a child, I am going to share that with their parents, straight-away.  Who doesn't like to hear those kind of things?

2.  I need to give my children more credit for being good people, all on their own.  It's not my fault.  They just come that way.

However.  I do have a little boy here who happens to be the cutest, sweetest little guy that ever was.  He just came that way.  So, what I'm wondering it this.  Is it okay for me to flatter myself by thinking I might just have a leeetle bit to do with that?  It would make me feel like a genius of sorts.  He really is pretty much perfect.

On second thought, he looks an awful lot like his dad (just like the rest of 'em).  But how about the sweet part?  Maybe sometimes I can be sweet?  

I'll ponder that whilst I spend the rest of the morning watching movies with my Claire-girl.  Today's a bit of a down day for this 'ol body of mine, which means I'm giving myself permission to do absolutely nothing.  You should try it.  Maybe we'll snuggle by our newly decorated tree and watch a Christmas movie.  That sounds very nice.  Claire's new favorite is "How the Crunch Stealed Christmas".  It's a good one. . .