Christmas Confessions: Hoar Frost, Christmas Wowzas and Paper Plates

 This was our world two days before Christmas....
Hoar frost everywhere.
I love it.
Every blade of grass,
every twig and leaf,
every every thing
is frosted over.
As the sun rises,
the world is all glittery,
even magical.

The moon was still out that morning--

which sparked the child in me with wonder.

I don't care about the science of it all,

the logical reason and fact,

it's there

and its beautiful.

Have I told you lately that I love Colorado Springs?

By Christmas Eve,
the frost was gone,
and we were left with
warm, sunny weather--
35 degrees warmer than last year!
I ran up to Loveland and fetched Dean--
who was so so so excited to come home
for the holidays!
He was beaming and yammering
all the way,
and of course, offered to drive for me
should I get tired.
It did my heart good to put my arms around him
and breathe him in,
considering what happened after Thanksgiving.

We had the sister missionaries over for dinner--
we brought out the nice dishes,
made prime rib and crab legs--
laughed and giggled as we pried open the crab,
and before we knew it,
the day was over,
and I was in my room,
wrapping gifts--
in between knocks on my door
from anxious children
"too excited to sleep".

This is the first year
that Joseph,
 knowing the myth of Santa,
wanted to help wrap gifts.
I couldn't let him.
I told him why.
When I was his age,
and I finally knew,
I BEGGED my mother to let me help her
wrap gifts--
she tried to put me off,
but I wouldn't have it,
so she relented and I loved wrapping
all of my brother's gifts,
then placing them under the tree.
I went to bed excited.
But come Christmas morn,
I was not as excited--
I knew what was beneath each box and bow.
The magic was missing,
and it was missed.
I didn't ask the next year,
to help wrap the gifts.

So I told Joseph my experience,
and we compromised:
Once the gifts were wrapped,
we let him lay a few under the tree
and he happily went to bed.

What's wrong with this tree?
Why, half the lights up and quit during the season, that's what.
There's a metaphor for my life there,
I just need to think about it long enough.

So, everyone who knows Me
and knows Daisie,
knows the battle that has ensued over a cell phone.
She has whined for one
for as long as I can remember.
Especially since she got into high school.
But I haven't wanted her to have one
because I've felt that it wouldn't be healthy for her
to not have my parental barrier
to protect her.
I know how stupid teenagers are,
and I wanted to be sure Daisie was mature
for that barrier to be removed.

So, after much deliberation between Mr. W and me,
we got her a phone.
She had no idea.
But being the rotten parents we are,
we took the phone outta the box it came in,
and wrapped it,
then hid the phone on the tree.

 "Wait! What the heck?!"  (notice Diana--she's getting ready to dial the new phone number)

"Whah?  No phone?  You guys are cruel!"

:::Cue the phone to ring:::

Nana: "Uh, that's for you. Better get it."

The money shot.

The yahoos rec'd new stockings this year,

seein' as how we can never seem to put them 

all back in the holiday bins every year

and one is always missing.

 The Boofus wearing his climbing harness and holding his "Mountaineering Bible".

We're finally past "Legos" and action figures! Yea!

"Smile, Dean!"

"Bee, show us your harness!"

(it's even purple for girls!)

And here's Mr. W's new harness too--

I'm amazed that he's so excited to get the kids into this,

as he's going to be 55 years old in 2011!

My dad didn't lift anything beyond the remote control

at this age.

Just goes to show, 

having kids when you're older

can keep you young too!

Ahhh the Wii....

and just a FYI--

the yahoos have been playing it

NON-STOP

since Christmas Day.

It's been a blast to have them playing together,

squealing in laughter and defeat,

and I will say it was the perfect gift

given at the perfect time--

they're at the ages to really enjoy it.

As for the Spiritual Gifts--

this year I did something different.

I wrote each child a letter

regarding "their" scripture--

the scripture I "gave" to them on their baptism day.

The letters were well received,

and a few tears escaped our eyeballs.

I may make this a new tradition,

because as each child read their letters outloud

after all the other gifts had been opened,

it was a tender moment to be remembered.

So Christmas Confessions:

*I did not make cinnamon rolls for breakfast,

but Dean brought some for us, premade, 

and that was great!

*We didn't go carolling this year. At All.

*We didn't make cookies for our neighbors,

but we did run a danish ring over to the neighbors

whose yard our entire trampoline blew over into

a couple days before--Panera Bread makes great danish rings.

*My Visiting Teaching sisters' gifts are still sitting in the front room.

*I forgot to buy Mr. W a Christmas gift--

beyond a box of chocolates.

He was cool with that, though, 

ensuring I shall keep him another year.

* NO Christmas cards were sent out. In fact, they weren't even bought.

* I joined an ornament exchange, and only after I rec'd one in the mail,

did I realize it was a handmade ornament exchange. ( I suck at that!) So I ran to Hobby Lobby and 

made an ornament out of a silver bell with black velvet ribbon looped through it,

then promptly forgot to mail them out!!!  So, if you're reading this,

and sent me an ornament, know that I will get that bell out to you this week,

hopefully before you put your tree away. And I'm sorry.

* Our family was a Secret Santa for another family and we loved it!

And finally,

We ate off Paper Plates on Christmas Day.

True story:

we had 3 Christmas-themed paper plates left,

and I found 3 birthday party paper plates in the pantry,

then Nana offered to get out plastic forks too,

and I thought, "why not?"--

afterall what is a paper plate without a plastic fork 

to enhance the whole "casual dining" experience?

We had a honeybaked ham and salads and

Marie Calendar made the pie!

The clean-up was a breeze.

I'm not gonna lie,

I was a happy mom to be outta the kitchen

in less than 15 minutes

so I could take a nap!

N' that was Christmas 2010!
It was magical and fun,

silly and sweet.

What about you?

Any Christmas Confessions you wanna share?

Sugar Cookie Love

How to Make the Best Sugar Cookies Evah:

 Make them when the kids go to bed.

Because then, you get to decorate them while listening to 

The Carpenter's Christmas Album, circa 1972 

by yourself.

And if your dough is too slimy and makes mushy stars at first, 

noone cries while you add more flour to the mix, 

because it's taking too long.

And you have time to "pose" your cookie cutters for pictures.

And noone's eating the dough.

You get to hog the cookie cutters.

And even make the Peanut Butter Blossoms while 

the sugar cookie dough is in the fridge.

N' ya don't gotta yell at anyone for eating the chocolate kisses 

before the peanut butter cookies are finished baking.

Then you getta drink a big ole glass of milk in the sweet smelling kitchen totally silent.

And the yahoos wake up thinking 

You.

Are.

The.

Best.

Mom.

in the World.

We Gather Together

Christmas is inherently busy,
but this year is especially so
since I'm working
which leaves me little time aside
for just being still.

The emotional stress with Dean
is just beneath the surface right now
for me--
if I just stay busy,
I'm good.

So I stay busy.
Last Monday,
my good friends gathered me up
and we had lunch at Panera Bread--
all that comfort food should be on
Obama's Healthcare Plan--
their brocoli cheese soup in a bread bowl
or
5 cheese macaroni dishes
are good for the soul.
As I look at it,
maybe it's just cheese. lol
Anyway,
the Beatle's got it right--
I get by with a little help from my friends.

At Church yesterday,
the topic of speakers was
"Christmas".
Have you ever gone to Church
and the speaker was so clear and brilliant
that you listened with both your ears
and your heart
and just soaked it up in all of your pores?
So true and poignant
that you'd sit for a second round
of the same talk?

That's how it was for me yesterday.
A good man in the ward,
whom I have had next to zero interactions with,
shared the best Christmas message that I've heard
in a long time.
Some of his words struck my heart
so deeply that they became part of my DNA.
"Christmas isn't just one day,
it's forever. For every one. For always."
"We're all needy. We all need one another."
I wish I could quote him verbatim,
but those warm fuzzies are what's left
simmering like warm cider,
with it's fragrance wafting all around.

My emotions regarding Dean
were churning and threatening to burst open
with no regard to where I was--
luckily,
it was time for Sunday School,
ya know?
I was in the clear!
But then--
then we got to Relief Society,
and I couldn't even make it all the way thru
"Silent Night"
because a sweet sister had to ask me how I'm doing.

How am I doing?
Like, in general or today? I thought.
In general, I'm functioning--
going to work
baking cookies,
making Christmas lists,
fretting about Dean.
or today,
I'm here, but as Shrek says, 
I'm a donkey on the edge!
I'm sucking back tears--
not just the tiny tears you quietly wipe away,
I'd already gone thru those kind of tears two hours before
in Sacrament meeting.
No, I'm sucking back a full throttle,
air-sucking-whole-body-throbbing-suckfest.

I answer,
"I'm good. You?"
Good. She answers.
then she adds,
"I haven't seen you around lately. Everything okay?"
"Oh we've been sick. Colds, strept, viruses. All of it." I say.
Which is true, but then I remembered last Sunday.
Last Sunday when I didn't sleep because
I didn't even know where Dean was.

See what happened there?
I don't know what possessed me,
but I told her where I was last Sunday--
physically and emotionally.
My "pollyanna" -tude was nowhere to be found,
and just as we're singing the first line of
"Silent Night",
instincts took over when
I felt a tidal wave
of emotion take over
excused myself and went out to the car
to let it loose.

Mascara mixed with snot is so un-Pollyanna-ish.

The clock ticked on,
church was out and I was home making
spaghetti for dinner
before I knew it
and said nothing about my own personal waterworld
to the kids,
but quietly told Mr. W,
who gave me a big hug.

I took a nap
and I felt better.
Naps do that for me.
I realized upon waking,
and feeling logical
that sometimes 
my burdens exceed my strength.


Last night was a special night.
It was our Stake's Christmas Program.
This Stake is a wonderfully creative and talented bunch of people,
and it's always a blessing to attend.
Even if I did have to threaten the Boofus to get his suit back on,
when he'd have rather not gone out again on a Sunday night.
It'll be good for us, I told him.
I knew it'd be good for me anyway.

When the handbell performers were playing,
Arianna whispered in my ear,
"Shut your eyes."
I listened and let the bells fill my head
with their soothing melody.
Ari's warm little noggin on my shoulder,
and bells in the air,
was just what I needed.
When I opened my eyes
I looked around the Chapel--
I saw a room filled with people who've had their own
share of trials that exceeded their strength:

There, just behind me sat a couple who, like me,
have a son that worries their heart--
not because of illness of the body,
but because of passions that blind him.
Yet, they're always at Church,
serving
loving
giving what they have.

Up front in the choir,
I see a young man whose fought a life-threatening disease,
and his family around him also singing Christmas carols.

I look across and there sits a widower who speaks about his wife
with a palpable tenderness that you just know
theirs is a remarkable love story.

And just a few rows back a widow,
whose raised her children by herself for a decade
and always has a gentle smile on her face.

Again up at the choir,
I see men who've fought in Afghanistan
and far reaches of the world,
so far away from this side of the Rocky Mountains--
and their wives and children gathered to their sides
this Christmas season
like stripes on a candy cane.

Row by row,
I looked around,
suddenly very aware that I'm in a chapel
full of
what?
Optimistists.
Believers.
Hopefuls.
Needy, Needy, People.
Just like me.

But on this night,
we're gathered together--
all of our cares
tucked and guarded inside our hearts;
we have a reverance for one another--
I've heard it called
"Namaste".
Because we know why we're here
in this Chapel
on a cold December night.
We've gathered together,
like warm coals that are stronger
when touching,
to build a flame,
to see if we can mend and heal ourselves
as we lift and serve one another.

"Where two or more are gathered together in my name, there I am in the midst of them."


That's why we come.
We bring our sorrows,
our burdens,
our trials,
and we sing--
oh how we sing!
Loudly and even off-key,
the vibration in our voices
shrug off our burdens
lifting them off one another
with the energy of song.
And it's sweet and lovliness
are only nearly-matched
by the treats being served in the cultural hall afterwards.
We gather together 
to ask the Lord's blessing...

Butterflies and Christmas

When I was a little girl,
my parents used to leave the Christmas tree lights on
all night long
on Christmas eve.

Christms morning would find me
kneeling in front of the glistening tree
with it's flickering lights
gazing at all of the wrapped gifts
that covered the floor.

The butterflies in my tummy were so great
that my teeth would start chattering
in my excitement!

Now that I'm the Mom of the house,
going on 29 years
(man, I'm old! yea!),
you'd think I'd be over the whole
Butterfly-tummy thing, right?

I'm not.
No way.
As we put up our tree last night,
those same tingly butterflies returned--
each ornament is a memory on our tree.
None are the same--
there's the bagpipe one from Edinburgh,
and the one from our honeymoon in Breckenridge,
the ones we gave each other
that first day we met, December 1997,
and the yahoo's baby ornaments,
the new house ornament from Fort Collins,

AND the truly antique ornaments:

the tiny cherubic angels from Mr. Wonderful's mother
who passed away long before I ever met him,
long before he even thought he'd have a family.

There are 6 tiny little angels
and 6 miniature creche's
that Doris Ella used to put on her tree
way back when Mr. W
was just a yahoo in his own house.

And let me just say,
in case this isn't obvious--
those little angels are treated as though
they're made of 24 carat gold.

Mr. W hands the youngest yahoos
those tiny angels
and tells them in a sweet low voice:
"These were my Mom's."

We have to hang them together
or we'll lose them on the tree,
as we found out one year--
it took a long time to find every one of them.
They're only an inch and a half long.

But to Mr. Wonderful,
they're his Mom.
Like little Guardian Angels sent here
to watch over Doris Ella's boy,
they hang with honor on the very hooks
they were matched up with over 50 years ago.

See what I mean?
Butterflies.

We have our small rituals to get us going:
Hot cocoa with peppermint sticks,
the "Mary, Did You Know" cd by Kenny Rogers,
and our special ornaments.

I try not to direct the yahoos as to where
to place their ornaments.
Once the lights and garland are on,
anything goes!

The step-stool is brought out
and the un-spoken contest to see who
can get closest to the highest bough
begins--
"Mine is higher!"
"Ah-ha! Mine is higher now!"
And continues on until
there are 524 ornaments
at the top
and three
on the bottom bough
of the 9 foot tall tree.

It's all good.
The butterflies are flitting about,
the hot cocoa is delicious.
The kids are laughing about the handmade ornaments
they made in elementary school--
the ones with their school pictures centered in wreaths,
with their childish haircuts
all of it
circled in globs of glitter.

The last ornament to go on
is the Star...
that was the one tradition I brought
from my childhood:
My dad put the star on top.
Mr W does the deed and that's that.

All finished,
we settle back on the sofa
and gaze at our homemade masterpeice
ignoring the bins and buckets,
the tissue and strew ribbon--
we soak up all Christmas magic like
the last sip of hot cocoa--
we want every drop of it to last.

Joseph announces:
"It's Snowing!"

Hey, it's Butterfly Season.

How Many Takes does it Take to Get a Good Take of a Family of 12?

Many comments have been left about our new Family picture...and out of guilt and sense of duty, I present:

#1: Dara's eyes closed, Brad not smiling, Joseph's smile wonky.

#3Dara's eyes closed. Dean in mid-sentence.

#4Tisha? Brad. Dean. Dara.

#20Dara. Dean.

#22Outta focus. Joe.

#24 Telling Joe to smile!

#27Ari. Dean. Joseph. Kent.

#33 Joseph.

#35 Lighting. Joseph. Dean

We also took some different poses:

#82 Hunh?

#91 Word.

#94 Joseph looking like Laurel Hardy.

#105, Okay I LOVE this one. hehe

By the time it was all smiled and done, I think the photographer, Koren, had taken close to 135 pics of our mugs.  Some were just outta focus, but most of the outtakes were just because of ourselves...cracking up, eyes closed, wonky smiles or whatever.  So the favorites have been chosen from the lot and I couldn't be happier!
p.s. and there's a utility box behind Mr. W's head on the hill, and so we tried to keep that hidden with his head~! He did pretty good!

Best of 2009, December

This face. right there. that one. He is a baby ninja who steals my heart everytime I see him. He has to wear protective gloves--not for him, for us--he's got some crazy ninja skills.

Don't look into his eyes too long or you'll be under his baby ninja powers...

No gloves...get back Jack!


And this is Carol Merrill at Downtown Old Colorado City...an ice sculpture fireplace! Right smack in front of The Rocky Mountain Chocolate Factory!

A trip thru Winter Park, Colorado

--look at that "Moosen" would ya?

Colorado Adventure Park

Snow tubes, helmets, magic carpet, and groomed hills....$14.00

Screaming down the hill tethered to your whole screaming family: Priceless!

And finally:

The Golden Child was blessed and the whole HeeHaw Gang was there--can it get any better than this?