Baby It's Cold Outside

A large section of the country is stuck in the grasp of a cold snap, and our little corner is no exception. I left the house today (really left the house, not just going out for a few minutes to check the mail) for the first time since Sunday. As bundled up as I was, it was still almost painful to be outside.

The kids enjoyed the first few days of break spent watching movies and playing games, but they started to get a little stir crazy today. Bryan suggested, in all seriousness, that we find some balaclavas for them and take them to the park to run off some energy.

Of course, that would mean one of us adults has to go too, and, as much as I'd like the kids to get fresh air and exercise, I don't think that sounds appealing at all.

Do It Right

I've been pondering the needs of our little family and possible goals for the coming year. I keep coming back to this scripture from Moroni 7:45, the last book of the Book of Mormon:

And charity suffereth long, and is kind, and envieth not, and is not puffed up, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil, and rejoiceth not in iniquity but rejoiceth in the truth, beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.

I think we need to display this prominently somewhere in our house.

The other quote that keeps coming to me is from Spencer W. Kimball:

Do it. Do it right. Do it right now.

I'm thinking these should be our new family scripture and family motto.

Expressionism

We had a little photo shoot today in an attempt to replace the out-dated picture of six-month-old Sophie on our wall with something more current. Bryan took many pictures and captured some classic Sophie expressions. Here are a few.

Christmas Pajamas

Our school district only gives us a week off for Christmas break, so we've been resting as much as we can the last few days. In fact, we all stayed in our pajamas yesterday and today. Last night at bedtime Sophie told me, with a bit of concern in her voice, that she hadn't gotten dressed all day. I told her that was fine on Christmas.

Then she looked at me and said, "It's okay, we just pretended our jammies were daytime clothes."

Yes we did, and we may just do the same tomorrow.

Fa La La La Llama

Merry Christmas from this authentic bunch of characters!

The Gift That Keeps on Giving

For many years Christmas Eve was a night without sleep. I'm not talking about the sleepless anticipation of a child, I mean the exhausted rush of a mom with too much to do at the last minute. The year that Sophie was born, that changed. Since she was due shortly before Christmas, I knew that I simply would not have the luxury of pulling an all nighter, at least not for wrapping gifts. And, with some planning, I pulled it off. It was lovely to be done with all of our Christmas morning preparations early.

I've worked to duplicate this each year since. I do not miss the frenzy of running out to the store on Christmas Eve or the zombie-like state I experience after staying up crazy late to wrap presents. I love seeing the presents wrapped and under the tree for several days. I love sitting peacefully in the evenings leading up to the big day without that stress.

I placed the last gift (for which I am responsible) under the tree today. The boys have two items to wrap tomorrow for the girls, then we're done. I've even divided the stocking contents into separate grocery sacks for easier distribution on Christmas Eve.

I love that now I can focus even more attention on much more important things. I can spend my time in contemplation about the birth of the Savior and the gift of His life and atonement. I can sit with my family and enjoy a Christmas movie, rather than put one on for them while I hide away wrapping gifts.

Now, if only I could achieve this level of calm preparedness in all aspects of my life...

Love Your Neighbor

Today our sweet next door neighbor brought us a Christmas gift of chocolates and a beautiful card. The best part? He and his family are Muslim and don't celebrate Christmas, but he knows that we do. He sets a wonderful example of kindness, I wish more people could be like him.

The Best Ever Christmas Wish

Sometimes Cooper writes poems and song lyrics. Here's a song he wrote about Christmas:

The Best Ever Christmas Wish

I've been thinking through the past five years

Thinking 'bout the Christmas holiday cheers.

The candles, the presents, and 10 foot pine trees

Feasting on dinner of turkey and peas.

Thinking of joy on cold winter nights.

It's a very big Christmas for me-

Chorus:

I think about the candy canes we give with love, 

and receiving is not what this is all about,

a good friend, it is the best ever Christmas wish.

Drawing and Photo by Sophie

The Third Strike, I'm Out

The cold now has me fully in its clutches. I stayed home from church yesterday and slept due to the germ assault on my sinuses. I think it's my sick state that led to a vivid and odd dream last night.

I dreamt that we were having a reunion for Bryan's family, when suddenly Lin-Manuel Miranda (the guy who wrote Hamilton and the music for Moana) showed up to hang out with us. He was happy to take pictures with everyone, but I couldn't get my camera to work. Then the reunion changed venues to a large mall and Bryan's sister told me that she and her family had decided yes, they would star in a reality TV show.

It was weird.

Semi Formal

This is what happens when two little girls discover their mom's old formal dresses.

Pritalee

Cooper decide to create his own handwriting font. He calls it Pritalee and wrote up a sample before bed a few nights ago. It looks fancy and fairly time-consuming.

The Second Strike

Well, round two of whatever this weird virus is hit on Saturday. I went to a fun morning of painting with friends, got home around lunch, and crashed on the couch. Bryan could tell I was down for the count and took care of pretty much everything for the rest of the day, which I greatly appreciated. He had been afflicted by the same thing a few days before, so I think he had extra helpings of pity for me.

After resting for a few hours I decided I had enough energy to look for something in the library. The walk from the great room to the library, which are within sight of each other, took all the strength I had. I was worried I would need to cancel singing in church the next day, that's how terrible I felt. I finally made myself go to bed and hoped for the best.

On Sunday I woke up feeling surprisingly good. I had energy and a voice and I carried on with the day as planned thinking the sickness had run its course. After church, as I was climbing into the van, I could almost feel the get up and go drain out of me. We made it to bedtime (after a super dinner of breakfast cereal) and, while Bryan stayed up to help Cooper finish a big project for school, I curled up in bed feeling lousy.

The biggest symptom appears to be exhaustion, though I now also have the sniffles, itchy ears, and a slightly sore throat. This is a strange bug. I'm hoping that my excessive napping (which Sophie loves because it means she gets screen time) drives the illness away. Or at least that I get another reprieve on Thursday so I can sing again...

Under the Umbrella

If At First You Don't Succeed

I had the opportunity to sing in Sacrament Meeting yesterday. It was a song I'd sung a few times before, I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day, arranged by Sally DeFord. My friend/accompanist and I met a few times to rehearse and I felt fine about it until Sunday morning. That's when a nervousness I couldn't quite explain crept into my thoughts.

The talk before I sang was a beautiful message about humility. While she was speaking, I had the thought, "Oh dear, I hope I'm not about to have a personal lesson in humility while I'm singing." I even prayed that I would let go of any pride that I might be feeling before I sang.

When it was my turn, I walked to the pulpit and began. The first three verses went well. I hit the key change on the fourth verse with strength and clarity, I remembered to slow down where the accompanist had requested because of a difficult key change. Then I hit the first note of the fifth and final verse.

And it was wrong.

I tried to recover, not quite sure what had gone wrong. I sang the next phrase and it was clear that I was not singing what the pianist was playing.

For the first time in nearly thirty years of solo singing in church settings, I stopped the song. Yes, I've made mistakes (like the time I forgot where I was and dropped a phrase from a song), but I'd never stopped mid-song before. I took a step back from the microphone, asked the pianist (who was laughing out of nervousness) to take it back to where the mistake had happened, then stepped back to the mic. We finished the song strong.

I walked back to the bench near the front of the chapel where my family was sitting. Bryan, sitting on the far end with all the children between us, mouthed the words, "Are you okay?" I shrugged. The next speaker, a member of the Bishopric, thanked me for the song, but the words felt empty. I spent the duration of the last talk making myself stay in the chapel because all I really wanted to do was crawl into a hole.

As we sang the closing hymn, the feeling of disappointment threatened to overwhelm my emotions. I wondered how I was going to make it through the next two hours of church.

As soon as the closing prayer was offered, a friend in the ward rushed over to me. She hugged me and whispered in my ear, "Thank you, thank you so much for messing up." I let out a surprised chuckle and she pulled back far enough so that I could see tears in her eyes. She quickly explained about her teenage daughter, a talented violinist who suffers from a great fear of failure during performances. It's almost to the point that she doesn't want to play anymore. My friend continued, "She saw that you messed up and it was okay and you were able to finish the song. You may not realize it, but that was for my daughter. Thank you."

I was surprised by this reaction, but touched. Over the next two hours I had several people, including a few talented musicians, comment on how much they enjoyed the song and that they were impressed I kept a smile on my face. I joked that I was glad I could provide an example of humility in action, that I was just trying to drive home the lesson of the talk. And then another mom said something similar to what my friend had said, she was so glad her girls had seen me stop and start again, that it would help them in their piano performing.

I apologized to the pianist and she hugged me and laughed and claimed all responsibility for the error. "I really have to work extra hard to pay attention to the music when you sing because I just want to listen." Her words were kind, but of course I couldn't let her take all the blame. Maybe we both hit the wrong notes at just the right time? I don't know, but I do know what counts is that we finished, despite stopping and going back a few lines.

I'm singing again on Thursday at a Relief Society activity. Let's hope whoever goes before me doesn't talk about humility this time...

Fire

I have spent lots of time the past two days checking evacuation reports and reading fire updates. One of the many fires burning in Southern California right now is in my hometown. My parents still live there and two of my siblings and their families are currently staying with them. The good news is that my parents house is outside the evacuation zone, on the other side of town from the fire. But they're only a few miles away from the boundary. Many of my childhood friends have been evacuated.

The physical distance between us and my family often doesn't seem like it's that great, thanks to technology. But on days like today, I feel very far away. Where I live now it is 29 degrees outside and we're expecting a few inches of snow tomorrow. Where more than half my family is they have powerful, hot winds pushing fire erratically around town. It almost feels like we're on two different worlds.

I will continue to check for updates and pray for their safety, as well as the safety of those fleeing and fighting the fires.

Ho Ho Ho

Bryan is on the ball about gifts. He likes to have his Christmas shopping completed months in advance. Once he has them, he usually tucks them away and doesn't wrap them until a few days before they need to be opened. But this year, he's already wrapped most of my gifts and they're waiting under the tree.

One morning last week the kids came downstairs to see presents under the tree. Now, we don't really do the Santa thing other than as a game, so I was surprised to hear Phoebe exclaim in excitement, "Santa was here! Guys! Santa was here!"

Sophie, with a look of pained patience and wise understanding, looked at Phoebe and said, "Phoebe, Daddy is Santa."

Not to be deterred, that day after school Phoebe showed us an email she had received from Santa after writing to him with the rest of her class. She read it to Sophie and said, "See, he even mentions Mrs. Claus. He's real."

I was in the driver's seat and Sophie was strapped into her car seat behind me, so I couldn't see her face. However, I recognized the same tone she had used that morning when she told her big sister, "Phoebe, Mommy is Mrs. Claus."

Sophie's name does mean wisdom, I just didn't expect her to be imparting it already.

Through New Eyes

After I took the pictures of the tree, Cooper asked if he could use my camera to take some of his own. I said sure. I was so surprised by the different perspectives he took! Not only did he choose to photograph the tree with the colored lights turned on, he went for totally different angles.

 

O Christmas Tree

Last week, the kids helped me set the Christmas tree up and fluff the branches. I put on the ribbon, then they did pretty much everything else. These particular ribbons are new this holiday season. They came from Costco Christmas clearance sales last year. I wasn't going for any particular theme when I chose them, I just thought the red and gold would be pretty together. When all the ornaments were on and the tree was lit, the red and gold seemed to tie everything together.

I always love looking at the Christmas tree, but I really love the way it looks this year.

The Candid Mom

Sophie likes to grab my phone and take pictures while I'm busy doing other things. Last night, after church but before dinner, she took this picture of me and Phoebe. I had no idea it was being taken. This photo illustrates a major part of my role as a mom.

We were all pitching in to get ready for dinner. Kids had (mostly) hung up their church clothes, done some light tidying, and were about to gather items for today's school lunch. Cooper had a headache and therefore a pass at helping, but Peter and Phoebe each had tasks. Peter was making the scrambled eggs for our breakfast-for-dinner while I prepared the oatmeal and the bacon. Phoebe was asked to thoroughly wipe off the table.

Now, you can only see the back of Phoebe's head in this picture. That means you can't tell how she felt about her job. Several phrases came out of her mouth such as, "This is impossible!" and "I can't do this!" and "I'm not perfect you know!" This is her regular approach to chores, so I wasn't overly phased. What I did do, and this drove her totally crazy, was ask her to keep coming back into the kitchen, after she believed she was done, until the job was completed to my satisfaction.

I understand that she's seven and hasn't mastered all the jobs we ask her to perform. I don't expect perfection, but I do expect effort. I also know that if we accept unfinished or sloppy work, then we're not teaching our kids how to do the best job they can. I wasn't unkind, but I was consistent. Granted, she thought I was being terrible for calling her back repeatedly. I walked around the table over and over with her to show her the spots that were still there. This picture shows me indicating something that wasn't all the way clean. She huffed and grumped and complained loudly, but she did the job. And each time a spot disappeared thanks to her effort, I pointed it out.

I wonder what she'll remember, the suffering of having to do chores? Or the satisfaction of getting the job done and doing it well?

Active Sleeper