Our Holiday by the Numbers

1 last long Christmas break before Andrew is a slave to clinic.
3 weeks away from home.
60 hours spent in our van, with
2 little boys.
2,800 miles driven between Ohio, Oklahoma and Kentucky, to visit
70 different family members.
4 wonderful Christmas mornings
1 surprise musical number, completely unrehearsed (I love you, mom! :) Brought back memories of the time you threw me a surprise sweet 16 and invited only strangers).
10 different games played (ready for this? Rumikub, Geographacts [Andrew's idea #lovethatnerd], Transamerica, Spicy Farkle, Things in a Box [personal favorite], Ticket to Ride, Mafia, The Name Game, Settlers Cities and Knights, Settlers Seafarers), and in case that's not Mormon enough, 
7 bottles of sparkling grape juice. We had such a great time! Happy New Year!  

Candy from Strangers

It's the very way Asher came to love Santa as a 1-year-old. The bearded giant handed the boy a miniature candy cane, we credited him with a few gifts, and old Saint Nick was in like Flynn!

...We should probably brush up on strager danger.

 

And while Santa isn't at all who this season is about, he sure is fun to believe in for a few years.

Wishing you and yours joy and peace as we reflect on the miracle of our Savior's birth. So eternally grateful for his life, example, atonement and resurrection.

Oh, and enough of all this "Happy Holidays." Merry CHRISTMAS, by golly!

Preston Churchill

I was looking over this year's Christmas card, and had a funny realization.

Our sweet Preston looks a lot like Winston Churchill.

A fat, bald, old man.

 

Don't you think? I don't mind too much - Winston Churchill has long been a huge hero of mine. But still...hopefully as little man grows he'll trade Winston's looks for his wit and wisdom. 

Hopefully. :) 

How Global Warming is Making Me a Better Mom

Good thing I couldn't find one of Asher's trustee tennis shoes today. Otherwise, I wouldn't have thought to put his boots on for our walk. We couldn't waste a 63-degree day in December (sorry polar ice caps, but global warming has been good to us), though I hadn't realized how much water had pooled from last night's rain. 

So there we were, babe bundled in stroller, toddler following dutifully alongside, when Asher notices a puddle and looks at me to gauge my response to the idea we both knew he had. I'm not always the best about letting him get messy. It was 12:30, and he was already on his third clean outfit (due to the dismantling of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and "accidentally" jumping into his little brother's bathwater)... but since he'd donned boots, I smiled, nodded, and the boy went charging. What a sight. A little boy gleefully being a little boy. 

I am always amazed at the way he beelines for the puddles I do my best to avoid. I'm too quick to scold him for the childhood crimes of curiosity, over-excitement and mess making. Armed with my good intentions for firmly raising the boy right, I sometimes forget he's just a boy.

I drew the line when Asher started dragging his fingers through the stagnant water, topped with oily rainbows. No sense in my child getting sepsis on my first day of enlightenment. He needed yet another pair of clean pants by the time we returned home, but it was a very small price to pay. He had such a good time.

Blessing Preston

We blessed baby Preston last weekend in Andrew's home ward. He's already 3 months old, but we wanted to wait until both our immediate families could both be there, and I'm glad we did - it was a really special day. Andrew gave a beautiful blessing, and I felt so proud to be momma to that obese healthy baby boy.

Here are some pics of the day:

    Sweet face! 

Ready to have the rolls unleashed on you?

Boom! Don't his arms look like Popeye's? ....If Popeye seriously let himself go? Andrew's wonderful Aunt Suzie made this little blessing gown, and it does a great job masking his enormous thighs. She should start a plus size baby line.

We love you so, handsome little man! Intensely grateful to call you our own.

My Thoughts on Thanks

Lately, when I feel discouraged or inadequate, I've found the quickest cure is to kneel and thank Heavenly Father for all He's given me. So simple. And it always works. I come to Him down, and in seconds, feel my heart bubble over with gratitude, peace and love. In a world that loves a quick-fix, it's a wonder this isn't a more common practice.

Aren't we all after happiness? I've learned gratitude is the fastest route. Gratitude coupled with humility. I'm a mighty proud woman (don't ask me why); but, when I humble myself and see the hand of God in my life, I can't help but be overcome with profound gratitude. It's a really, overwhelmingly good feeling.

So last week as we all celebrated Thanksgiving, I made an extra effort to mentally keep counting my blessings. It wasn't hard...and it made me feel so consistently happy. At the top of my list was family - and I was glad to be able to spend the holiday in Kentucky with Andrew's family, who I LOVE. And I've never been one to throw around that word (Clip from home video of my dad interviewing me at age 5: Dad: "Who's your boyfriend, Sarah?" Me: "Patrick." Dad: "Do you love him?" Me: [stone-faced] "LIKE, not love."), but I really do. Awesome in-laws: Blessing number 52,801.

Anyway, we had so much fun hanging out together for 5 whole days, celebrating what is really a perfect holiday, and ushering in the season of the only one that trumps it.

 All the boys sporting their plaid

Joey has a tradition of lifting the kids up while they hang their "Baby's First Christmas" ornament.

 

Joey and Kim hanging the 1978 ornament from their first Christmas together

Chewing the imaginary gum Asher had just offered him

Everyone together 

This time of year is special, and it's easy to think about how richly blessed we are when there's a national holiday set aside for the sole purpose. But I move we cease to reserve Thanksgiving for November. Maintaining an ever-grateful heart will bring us happiness and draw us nearer to our Father. 

The oh-so-simple bottom line: when it comes to thanks, give it. :)

Asher the Kid

Asher is wearing me out. Usually, I refer to him as my "child." My "buddy." My "little first-born." But I've found these terms are subject to change.

When the boy finds time to smear toothpaste and vaseline all over our bathroom, paint the couch with yogurt, color the computer with sharpie, all while communicating exclusively through fit and whine, my maternal scales are involuntarily tipped, and Asher becomes my "KID." 

Kid. It's a moderately harsh term reserved for the harried parents of misbehaving children. Which lately, I am. Maybe the unauthorized artwork of a fussy, disobedient toddler doesn't seem criminal, but I've certainly been robbed of my patience from time to time. And "Asher the Kid" is a pretty fitting name for a future outlaw. Or inmate.

Our last week or two have been "Kid" weeks. Ash man has been extra sneaky, defiant and whiny. He seems to be regressing, which may be expected with a new baby around. It still stinks. I do feel terrible about being less available...but the toddler is certainly making me pay for it. Every day upon witnessing his newest scene of destruction, I utter the same phrase: "Are you kidding me?!"

Well....turns out that's exactly what he's doing.

Anyway, Asher certainly senses and responds to my dissatisfaction. There's definitely some tension between us at times. Here's proof:

His bedtime prayers: "Dear Heathery Father, we're thankful for Daddy, and thankful for Preston, in the name of Jesus Christ, amen."

Asher: "Daddy says 'Just a minute,' and Asher says 'Just a second'.

Me: "Oh, really? What does mommy say?"

Asher: "'Dang it!'"

Haha, thanks for reminding me of how short I fall, you little stinker! I need to be a more patient, loving mommy. And you need to stop kidding me. :)