Adult Reading Only

***Warning--Do not have a young child reading this over your shoulder please***

So I've stirred up a little bit of a controversy over at KSL's website this morning with this article...

I was asked to write an article about "The transition from Santa to reality..." You get the idea...
Here's my response to the comments that clearly have a few people riled up.

#1 I wrote the article clearly under those guidelines. I was not asked to write an article on "The true meaning of Christmas" or about Jesus. I understand those parts of Christmas, and I actually was assigned an article along those lines that will be at a later date.

#2 Parents are concerned their believing children will read the article. Excuse me? What child of believing age really needs to be on KSL's website unsupervised. There are a lot of news stories completely inappropriate for a young child to be seeing.

#3 I have never understood the whole if Santa isn't... than how can Jesus be... argument. Just don't get it. I have been a believer in Santa, the Easter Bunny and even the Tooth Fairy and have never once doubted the reality of Jesus Christ.

Now, far be it from me to burst any young child's bubble, but I felt as though I accepted an assignment to write for and in an adult forum, and I would feel terrible if a young child read my article.

Obviously, I won't be showing that published article to my children. And fortunately, Megan is the only one of my children that occasionally reads my blog.

You can click HERE to read the article.
Merry Christmas!

Little Donkey

I was thrilled a few years ago with the convenience of itunes, that I could add one of my old favorite Christmas songs to my collection. "Little Donkey" was a song I remember singing at school a lot. I laughed out loud the other day when I heard Joshua singing it while he was playing.

Most of my children ask for it to be skipped when it starts playing--I'm not sure if it is because they really don't like the song, or they don't like that it is a requirement that we all sing along with English accents.

I glanced on You Tube for a copy of it. I only listened partially to about 3-4 different versions, but clearly the ones sung with an American accent were axed pretty quickly. The best way to portray the song to you is with this version of a little English school class singing it--true to form how I think it should be sung.

Ahhh-just imagine me there on the front row with a green and grey tie, white shirt and grey skirt, thirty years younger.

And if you don't absolutely fall in love with this song and feel it a must-have for your Christmas playlist-we may no longer be able to be friends!

I'm kidding.
enjoy~

Life is Short

Many people did daily thankful posts on their blogs throughout November. Doing so myself never appealed to me. Not that I'm not thankful and grateful though--I most certainly am!

Just now I read a post from my friend who asked her readers to share favorite Christmas memories, songs, traditions, etc. And it just happened to take my fancy! I think it may just be an answer to my prayer--just last night! I really want a way to focus more on what Christmas means besides running from store to store, or from task to task. I want to soak up the month of December. By 7pm Christmas Day, Christmas is over for me. Done. Finished. I don't want to hear anymore Christmas songs, and I usually start early the next day taking down my tree. And it seems every year, without fail I ask myself, "Did I make the most of December?" I love the days leading up to December, more than Christmas Day itself.

And even though I've always been pretty good to record our day-to-day December highlights in a separate Christmas notebook, and I've certainly blogged about plenty in the past few years, there are still so many Christmas memories and thoughts that fly in and out of my brain that never get permanently recorded.

And so I'm taking my friend's challenge, of course they will be intermixed with all the regular day-to-day posts of our family that my blog's main purpose is. But I'm going to try my best to record some of the little memories of Christmas and December, both past and present that would be so easy to forget.

I'll start today with this:

On December 1st, my kids wake up to find a new pair of Christmas socks under the Christmas tree. This year was no exception. But with the hurricane force winds blowing right outside our window, and the back and forth speculations of whether or not school would be in session, the socks weren't exactly the highlight of the morning. Getting a picture of everyone wearing the socks ranked even lower on the totem pole.

But what WAS a BIG DEAL, was the box of candy canes I had purchased the night before that were still sitting on the kitchen counter. (I think this is only the 3rd or 4th box of candy canes I've ever bought in my life, and so my kids were pretty thrilled to see them sitting out in plain sight.)

As I mentioned, hurricane force winds were blowing outside the window sounding as though any minute our house and us could be blown to smithereens. I guess in that moment I realized that so many of the things I worry about, really don't matter too much at all.

And so---
When Joshua asked, "Can we have candy canes for breakfast?"

I said, "Sure. Why not?"

While the winds raged outside our home, our kids sat at the kitchen counter tickled as can be, eating candy canes for breakfast!

"Enjoy the little things in life, one day you'll look back and realize they were the big things."

Hard Things = Satisfaction and Accomplishment

A little over 3 years ago, I was called to be the Gospel Doctrine (adult Sunday School) teacher in our church. Though completely comfortable speaking in front of people, the thought of teaching from the scriptures to both men and women, many who were far more knowledgeable than myself was extremely intimidating. I was petrified. I was nervous. I was scared. I carried around my scriptures and the lesson manual constantly that first week in anticipation of my first lesson. It was the first time in years and years I could remember being so nervous and scared for something. After my first couple times teaching, it quickly became one of my favorite callings. Two years later I cried when I was released for completely opposite reasons I had cried when I was called!

That first Sunday I had to teach over 3 years ago, happened to correspond with our Primary children's Sacrament Meeting Program. Luke had been asked to give a talk, not just a one line sentence he was used to. Three years ago this was completely out of Luke's comfort zone and he was extremely nervous and certainly less than enthused to be doing it. He and I were a bundle of nerves all week, but that late October Sunday proved to be successful and satisfying for both of us. I was correct in what I had repeated over and over to him and to myself all week, "We can do hard things."

This last week, for the first time in over 3 years I felt those nervous, scary feelings all over again. I committed to play a harp duet with Megan at her harp recital. This is not the place to get into the reasons why exactly I was so nervous about performing, but I had committed and I had practiced, and I was darn well going to carry through with it.

Back in June at a Power of Moms Retreat, my friend April asked us to think of some of our dreams and passions outside of motherhood. I thought briefly of pursing music studies more and immediately dismissed the idea based on time and finances. I didn't think anything more about it until a fall day recently when Megan and I, completely out of the blue sat down and played a harp duet. It was all fun and games until Megan told her harp teacher about it and the rest is history.

A couple of months ago, my friend Tenille, shared with a group of people how she decided to begin tap dancing after a similar challenge from a Power of Moms Retreat. But the clincher to my carrying through with my harp performance was the fact that my friend Tenille was brave enough to make a video of her tap dancing for Power of Moms to post that subsequently thousands of mothers around the world would view.

That's brave. That borders on the 'hard scale', and Tenille did it. I was so proud of her!! You can watch the clip here... Oh, so motivating!!

Back to my harp performance on Saturday morning.
Oh boy was I nervous. Despite the fact I spent all week telling myself "I can do hard things", on Saturday morning I told Megan (and her teacher Kephran) I would rather stand in front of thousands and give a speech than play a 3 minute Christmas song on the harp. When Mike arrived, I was near tears and wondered what in the world I had committed to. But it was too late to back out.

Fortunately, Megan and I were third on the program and I didn't have too much time to plan and carry out a quick escape route. Megan performed a solo first, and I stood on the sides of the stage practically tuning out her entire song. (Typically I am nervous for Megan, even though she herself never is. This time I didn't have any extra mental energy to worry about Megan's performance-mine was taking all I had.) All too quickly it was our turn, my hands were shaking so terribly which really makes plucking harp strings sort of tricky.

As Megan and I were finishing up our first time through, I tried my hardest to send a telepathic message to Megan to not do the repeat, but she didn't get it. So on we went with the repeat. My fingers began shaking even more and all I could think was, "If I could practice this with a two year old on my lap, or while my arm being used as a Hot Wheels track, I can do this with no distractions." (It is pretty impressive I made only one mistake considering the uncontrolled shaking of my hands.)

I've never been so glad for a song to end, and as we stood up to bow (my first musical performance bow I might add!), I realized how satisfied and accomplished I felt.

(Mike couldn't take both still photos and video of our performance, and we opted for video. I'll spare you the performance and instead grace you with an 'after photo.')

As I took my seat next to Mike to enjoy the rest of the concert, I couldn't help but cry. I had done something hard. I practiced, I worked hard, and I felt the sweet feeling of accomplishment.

A Music Major Grandma in attendance made some kind remarks to me after, which really could be a whole blog post in itself. She was correct in assuming I wasn't "an accomplished harpist", but I did have to correct her when she assumed I was "very musically talented." I told her that when the girls were practicing earlier, I had no idea what the counting during their playing was helping them with, and told her I can only play songs I am familiar with because I have no idea what notes count for what beats. (I chose not to use our brief time together adding that my daughter gets a kick out of counting how many times I change keys while singing a song.).

Of all the kind compliments we received, my favorite compliment came from dear Megan herself. "I am so proud of you, Mom. I knew how scared you were but you really did a great job. I'm so happy we could perform that together."

Sometimes it's good to do hard things.

Sabbath Day Observance--Davis County Style

Instead of three hours of church today, we barely even had one. We had a few announcements, the passing of the Sacrament and then a closing hymn and prayer. The same thing happened at churches throughout the county.

Around here, we are bracing for round two of severe winds that did a lot of damage on Thursday.

At our house, we only had a lawn chair and sprinkler head break in Thursday's storm. The majority of our neighbors did not fare as well. A few miles away my parents, though without power for almost 48 hours and a few fence panels less were lucky too.

Tonight we are expecting round two of the storm. The giant pine tree in my parent's front yard that keeps my dad up worrying during every wind storm was not thought to make it through some more near-hurricane force winds. (Because if it were to come down, there would be nowhere for it to go but on their house!)

So who was the 'lucky' guy recruited to climb the tree?

My dear husband. It is a dang good thing I wasn't there for the highest points of his ascent...

Luke worked every bit as hard as any grown-man there--in fact probably even more than some. He was a trooper. In his words, "This is way better than church."

Note our dear neighbor and friend, Paul in the background, who willingly went up to my parent's house to help too. His trailer and hard-work were a life-saver.

It was humbling to see neighbors and church members from my parent's congregation come and go during the tree cutting process. It was a wonderful sight to see.

The same scene could be seen throughout nearly every neighborhood in the county.
Few members of the LDS church in Davis County attended more than an hour of church today...

 "The greatest sermons aren't preached. They are lived."

Amen.

Still Thankful, A Week Late

Loved Thanksgiving!
Loved it!
Loved Megan's table decorating.

Loved everyone at the table!

(poor Mike was at the other head of the table and missed being in the photo-on a sidenote though, want to know how to get everyone to smile so big? Instead of saying, "Say cheese" say "Everyone say 'We're thankful for Tiffany.'"

Loved the food!

Love our 7th Annual Thankful Papers! (Even though one individual shows their gratitude on the paper abundantly and someone who shall remain nameless didn't write a thing!)

And I love, love my little family, even when not everyone wants their picture taken!

(Thanksgiving 2011)

The Little Engine that . . .

To put it bluntly, Mike is pretty frugal. He always says, "I'd rather have money in the bank than stuff." For the most part, I agree with him and I certainly support him and love him for being so financially responsible.

Last week when we were in Home Depot buying wood, screws and a metal shelf, Mike was very focused on his proverbial list. He is not easily distracted by end displays bragging 'great deals' or 'must buys.' I, on the other hand notice all of that stuff. Which is exactly why a Christmas train marked 50% off caught my eye.

As I glanced at the box, I thought how much my two little boys would LOVE that train. And then with no warning, I got all choked up thinking about how few years I have left of little boys loving a train that would circle around our Christmas tree playing seasonal music.

I hurried to find Mike in the wood aisles. (Really there are some sections of Home Depot that could be quite enjoyable. Why does my husband always pick the boring sections?!) Speaking approximately 200 words a minute I described the Christmas train to Mike. In true Mike fashion, he rolled his eyes and said, "Do what you want."  It wasn't permission to buy it that I wanted. I wanted him to tear up with me and sentimentally say, "Oh dearie, our boys are only going to be young once. You must go get that train and put it on our cart immediately. They will love it."

He didn't.

Instead I pulled out my phone, typed a text to my mother saying, "If you were with me, you would tell me my boys are only young once, right?"

She didn't respond.
I was on my own.

I returned to the train display, choking up all over again as I read, "Characters bounce up and down while music plays." Without thinking any more about it, I picked up the train and met Mike in the shelving department. He didn't smile, he didn't tear up, he just gave me that trademark smirk of his that I absolutely adore.

As we pulled into the driveway 25 minutes later, a text message came through. It was my mother exclaiming, "ABSOLUTELY! I hope I'm not too late."

The train was kept hidden away until the Christmas tree was ready for the train to take it's place at the base of it.

Monday night the Christmas tree got all set up and Mike and Joshua left to retire to bed, leaving me and a couple of kids to finish up the last touches. My train excitement was ready to burst and I told Mike that we should invite Joshua to stay up a little longer and bring out the train.

Wanting to go to sleep, he pleaded slight sentimentality and asked, "I thought you wanted Drew to see it too? Wait until the morning." (Drew was already asleep in bed.)

I wanted to do it then.
And needlessly I selfishly added, "Our kids are only young once. I can't believe you are going to go to bed and miss this."

Mike ignored the fact that he had been awake since 4:30am and was dead tired, and he kindly and selflessly came and laid on the couch to observe this monumental Christmas train debut.

I wish I had had a video camera in hand to capture Joshua's ear-to-ear smile and reaction as the train box was set in front of him.

I was glad there was no video camera minutes later.

The track was hard to put together.
I had too many children (only Drew was missing) trying to help with both their hands and opinions.
We realized we needed a 9 volt battery. Thankfully Mike had one in a tool box somewhere.
Then we realized we needed 4 'c' batteries that of course we didn't have.

Trying to keep tears at bay (mine not Joshua's) we all retired to bed.
At 6:20am the next morning I was at Walmart buying the necessary batteries.
At 6:40am Drew was next to me wide eyed, grinning and THRILLED about the new train.
At 6:41am I text Mike and told him that the smile on Drew's face couldn't even compare to the $25 I spent on the train.
At 6:45am I was debating whether or not to wake up Joshua. (I typically have a very strict motherhood rule that you do NOT wake up sleeping children, but come on the train now had batteries!)
By 7:20am I was trying to convince Drew that he was not the sole owner of the train.
By 7:30am I had heard enough of the "Characters bounce up and down while music plays" promise and put the remote on a high shelf.
By 7:40am I gave Drew back the remote in preference of "Characters bounce up and down while music plays" music instead of screams while I got the kids ready for school.
By 7:51am I text Mike to have him remind me whose idea purchasing the train actually was.
By 8:00am Joshua had cried about 438 times for a turn with the train.
By 8:25am the train was put up high in Mike's closet
By lunchtime the train was returned to the track.
By late afternoon the train had 'magically disappeared.'

Today the train spent most of it's time in a box in the garage.

Thank heaven my kids are only young once.

Happy December!