"Pretty, Mommy!"

Note to self: do not leave mascara where small people can reach it.

Picture a Christmas

Like A Weed

Peter has almost attained one of his goals. He had his annual check-up yesterday. In addition to having his eyes, ears, and spine examined, Peter was measured. He is officially 4'11 and 1/2". He's been aching to be five feet tall for ages and now he's almost there.

In related news, the pediatrician predicted that Peter, at his full height, will be taller than Bryan is now.

Etched

Tomorrow I'm in charge of a Relief Society meeting where the focus will be eating food, talking with friends, and making a craft. We do these once a month during the day. I've always participated (I am exceptionally good at eating and talking), and usually conducted, but never been in charge of the project.

Until now.

We're etching names and initials into the bottoms of our glass baking dishes. This seemed like an awesome idea when I thought someone else would be leading it. Now that I'm the one giving instructions, I'm kind of freaked out.

I did a trial run this afternoon. It turned out okay, but I think I can do better.

I thought our first initials would look cool lined up on the wall. I think being centered on the glass would class it up considerably.

Most online tutorials say to use vinyl for your stencil. I would love to do that, but it's simply not an option. So instead we're going to cut our own stencils into contact paper and use that. I'm pretty nervous about how the whole thing's going to go down.

I'm off to go try on an actual baking dish.

Wish me luck!

Motherhood

Motherhood makes you feel things.

Crazy.

Joyous.

Insane.

Stupefied.

Lost.

Powerful.

Peaceful.

Angry.

Tender.

You feel things so new and intense and overwhelming you're sure you must be more than a little off-balance. Those emotions hit sometimes without warning and almost always without invitation. They roll you over and you are left reeling and tearful, wondering when you will again be in charge of your tear ducts.

But there's something no one tells you when you become a mother. You make the choice to give up control. You say, "Here is my heart, now run along with it little one and please bring it back safe and whole." And sometimes they toddle back to you, arms brimming over with your heart full of happy. And other times they drop kick it back, cracked and full of pain.

I believe that this is part of the plan. Feeling, and then learning what to do with those feelings, are steps in becoming the person, the mother, the daughter, the sister, the wife, the friend, the woman that I am meant to be. And sometimes that growing hurts, much like pains in a child's stretching legs. But sometimes, the reshaping is glorious.

More than anything else, those feelings of motherhood teach me that I am not in control, that I must hand over control, not to my children, but to my Father in Heaven, who knows me and my grand potential better than I know myself. He knows these children He sent me, He knows their potential too. He knows that they and I have much to teach each other, and that ours is not an accidental meeting.

Motherhood makes you feel things.

Hark! The Herald Angels Sing

On Christmas Eve Bryan's family let us share our traditional bread and soup dinner. I was so thankful since it's one of my favorite traditions. Then we gathered around the piano for one of Aunt Melody's family traditions: singing Christmas carols. I simply can't resist a good old-fashioned sing-along.

Peter, Shari, and Melody all took turns accompanying us.

Some sang, some listened, but all enjoyed the beautiful spirit that the sacred Christmas hymns brought.

Monkeys

Learn Who You Really Are

Did you watch President Russell M. Nelson's devotional on Sunday evening? If you didn't, you really should. The talk is geared toward young single adults (he even uses the term "millennials"), but don't let labels stop you. Everyone can benefit from this profound address.

You can access the talk on lds.org, or just click here.

After you've watched or listened or read, I'd love to hear your thoughts.

Delicious

Cooper and I are reading Laura Ingalls Wilder's Farmer Boy. Last night, after listening to one of the many descriptive meal scenes, Cooper remarked, "Wow, this book has lots of delicious words in it."

His comment made me smile. I agree, her detailed passages about food make my mouth water. But beyond Wilder's books, the beautiful language found in the best books is delicious to my ears.

My time for reading feels so brief at this season of my life. I squeeze in a few minutes while waiting in the pickup line at school, in the space while I'm hovering near bedroom doors waiting for children to sleep, during the short periods of quiet when all my children are reading as well. I savor these opportunities to jump into another world and drink in those "delicious words."

Picture a Stable in Judea

On Christmas Eve Aunt Melody led The Littles in a sugar-fueled building session. Instead of the traditional gingerbread house, the kids made graham cracker Nativities. I'm not exactly sure how much candy was consumed in the process, but I believe it was an impressive amount.

I loved seeing the final products. These kids are creative, no matter the medium.

The Setup

"CANDY!"

The Process

Some of this.

And some of this.

The Results

 Nathan and Uncle Jake's

Sophie's

A lot more candy went into this one, but since the only evidence can be found at the corners of her mouth, you'll just have to trust me.

 Sam and Aunt Melinda's

Peter's

Can you find Mary, Joseph, Baby Jesus, the Angel, and the Wise Men?

Cooper's, from the back

 Cooper's, from the front

His Nativity also has Mary, Joseph, and Baby Jesus, can you spot them?

Phoebe's

She had the same cast of characters as Peter, minus the Angel, though her delivery was different. 

Thanks for such a fun activity Aunt Melody!