Holiday Fun

No, I have not fallen from the face of the earth. It's just Christmas time! Here's what we've been doing for the last month:

Brandon and Lindsey build the tree

We decorated our house the day after Thanksgiving—a tradition in our family. So everyone spent days making paper snowflakes to hang up; the house was strewn with white confetti for weeks.

making paper snowflakes

And, of course, the tree and the nativity sets and our North Pole sign all came out too. It looked great!

Trim up the tree with Christmas stuff. Like bingle balls, and whofoo fluff.

The next project we took on was our gingerbread house. This is an all-day project, and I really debated not making one this year. But it is a new Christmas tradition for us—this is the third year now that we've built a gingerbread house.

The kids love it because they get to eat lots of candy, and we all spend time together. I do most of the work—all the baking and construction, as well as piping on the frosting glue so the kids can stick their candies in place.

But as they get older and more capable, that will change. (Well, Michael is older and more capable, but he's at school for a lot of the worky part. Maybe we should make it a tradition to do this on a Saturday.)

the gingerbread house is finished!
the gingerbread house one week later

Let's see . . . On Friday the 19th we had our first really big snow of the year; it came almost to my knees in only a couple of hours (I'm kind of short, but that's still a lot of snow). This snow was deep and powdery and slick—you could hardly stand up on it. Let me clarify: If you stand and walk in the deep snow, you'll be pretty safe, but soaked through. But if you're shovelling and have to stand on snow that has packed—even a little—you are in great danger of falling on your butt. Bruce, Brandon and Ryan all fell down more than once. I almost fell several times, but I'm pretty good at getting my balance back before I actually hit the pavement. (Bruce says I'm so graceful at almost falling that look like a ballerina pretending to fall down—whatever!)

Brandon and Bruce shovel the driveway

The roads were a complete mess, and I was a mess just thinking of driving the van in this weather. It has good brakes and good tires, but it's so heavy that it still wants to slide. I can get around on the slippery, snowy, slushy roads, but I don't like to. Fortunately Bruce was around, and he did the driving that afternoon. And, happily for Bruce and me, Brandon really likes shovelling snow (go figure!); so he cleaned up the driveway as best he could. Our house is north-facing, so keeping the snow off of our drive is not easy—it's always in the shade. But all's well. We had a white Christmas, with a fire in the fireplace, hot cocoa and all that other good stuff.

On Sunday, the 21st, we went to my cousin Wendy's house for a family & friends/dinner/singing get-together. Her little 80-something neighbor lady master-minded the party and Wendy was happy to host. There were about 40 people there and we played musical chairs, and then read stories and sang songs. Everyone had some type of musical instrument, from a keyboard to guitars to maracas. It was very noisy, but pretty fun.

Then on Monday (the 22nd) we went to my mom's for a birthday party for my oldest brother, Peter. While we were there Bruce and I engaged in a little petty theft so that I could complete the BIG Christmas project I was working on. But I repented later and returned the stolen goods.

Tuesday night we dipped chocolates. We've been doing this for a few years now too. Every year we make the ugliest (although pretty darn tasty) chocolates you've ever seen. After all the time spent making them (and licking up melted chocolate as you go) I almost can't stomach the actual chocolates when they're done. They taste better a couple days later, when you're not so chocolated out—even if they are lumpy and crooked. Every year I hope they'll turn out nicer, and when they don't I vow that I won't spend the time or money to do it again. But I always do have to try one more time. This year we used some candy molds to help out, but it didn't really help much.

I intended to make the girls some Christmas dresses; I even bought the fabric. But that was a silly idea since I started sooooo late. I may get them done this week, though.

In-between all the other stuff, I was working a Christmas present for my siblings and parents. I took all the old photos I could get my hands on, scanned them, corrected color (when necessary) and then burned them all onto cd's for everyone. I had a box of pictures here that Mom lent me a few months ago, but she didn't want to give up any more. I kept asking her—but not telling her why I wanted them—and she had all these good reasons that I couldn't have them. Finally at Peter's birthday party I managed to get her out of the way and Bruce sneaked a box into the van. I spent most of that evening and the next morning working on that box of pictures. Then I was able to sneak it back into her house in the evening, while she was gone from home. I spent hours on the photo project, and still didn't get all of the pictures she has; but everyone really liked their cd's. And now I think I'll have an easier time getting the rest of the pictures from Mom so I can make volume 2.

And of course we were shopping clear up until the very last minute. It was insane going out on Christmas Eve day, but we needed a few last items and some groceries. Next year we definitely have to plan better than that! We visited a few families in the evening, and before bedtime we read the Christmas story from Luke 2 and watched a video of the Christmas story. We sent the kids to bed with instructions to absolutely NOT get us up before 6 a.m. Then Bruce and I stayed up until 1:30 doing the secret stuff. (Next year we definitely need to plan better!!)

When Brandon and Ryan heard Bruce and me quiet down, they started to head out of their room to check things out. But we were still up and sent them back to bed. I fell asleep pretty quickly (around 2 a.m.), but those two boys (who room next to us) were up every 30 minutes or so, so it was a light sleep. At 5:52 a.m. I heard the kids whispering and milling around. They came up the hallway to our bedroom door about once every minute until 5:59. And then . . . Jason stood in the kitchen, facing our bedroom door, and played reveille on his trumpet! He took a lot of flack for it that day, but really it was pretty funny.

We had a nice Christmas Day. Unfortunately, we didn't take any pictures. We've discovered over the years that every time we try to take a great picture, one of the kids gets right in the way so we don't capture what we wanted to. And, truthfully, we forgot to get the camera when we went to open presents. But everyone has been really happy with their gifts, and the kids have enjoyed playing together all week.

It snowed a lot on Christmas morning, but we braved the weather and the roads and went to see Bruce's family. My mom had called me and said not to drive in the snow to go to her house that day. So we went to see her the next day when, unfortunately, the roads were more slippery than they were on Christmas Day. But it was nice to break up the visiting into two sessions, and not be running around quite as much on Christmas.

white Christmas

And now, this week we are cleaning house and preparing to get the decorations down before New Year's Eve. My bedroom was the biggest mess, having been the staging room for all the Christmas happiness. There was no clear surface in there—on the furniture or the floor; the bed didn't even get made six days out of seven. I didn't take a "before" picture of my room—you really wouldn't want to see that. But now that it's all clean, I love my bedroom!

my lovely room

All in all, we have had a busy and very happy holiday. And I hope you all have, too. And here's wishing you a HAPPY NEW YEAR!

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Deep Answers

Thanks for your comments, everyone. You all gave some great answers. I've been thinking about my post as well. :-)

I have concluded that we do try our best every day. I have (frequently) had days when my best was to feed my family and make sure the dishes were clean that day. Period. I feel bad on those days because I know there's more that needs to be done. But for physical or emotional reasons, that is all I am capable of at that time. This is part of our mortality (our imperfections) and I know God understands this, and that if we truly strive to do better each day, then that's all we can do.

But what about problem-solving? Let's say (and this is not a true-life case) that I go to the bank and take out $100 to pay a bill that's due by the end of the week. For some reason I have to go home first, and then . . . you know how things go at home. I don't make it in time to pay the bill today. I will go tomorrow. So I leave the $100 on my dresser (which I would not do in real-life). Well, the next time I look for the money, the $100 is missing. I interrogate all my kids and my husband, but they all claim perfect innocence. (You had $100?!) Obviously this isn't ALL I can do to solve this problem.

So I clean out my purse; then I clean my dresser, look in the drawers, clean and organize the drawers, look behind and under the dresser (clean-up there too). No luck. I retrace my steps from the time I got home with the money yesterday—nothing. So now I look in the pockets of the clothes I was wearing yesterday. Then I make my bed and clean up my whole room. Still nothing. Have I done all I can?

Well, there's a good possibility that a child did something with the money, but was afraid to 'fess up. So now I ransack their rooms, cleaning as I go. After a few days I have torn apart and rebuilt the entire house, and the car too. I am praying the whole time, because I need to pay that bill. Have I now done everything I could do?

Well, I remember a rather large-ish hole in my living room wall (well, this part is true—we have a 3-inch hole in one of our walls). I suppose it is possible—although not likely—that a child could have shoved the money into that hole. I could tear away that entire section of wall to see if the money is in there. I consider this; I am capable of doing it, and repairing it again, too. But my feeling is, that it wouldn't really help. It's not likely the money is in there; it would be a lot of work, it would make a huge mess; so that's not an entirely logical solution to the problem. In addition, my first gut-feeling was not to do it.

So, NOW, do I pray and say "I have done everything I can do," or should I tear into the wall first? Have I really done everything, or am I just rationalizing? I have to say that I believe my first feelings (not to tear apart the wall) are probably correct. But sometimes I wonder.

As for asking for help, I know we need to. There are plenty of times that I know exactly what my kids want from me, but I wait for them to ask me first. Not because I am mean, but because sometimes they need to ask. I think there is something for us to gain by asking. And the scriptures tell us over and over again to ask God for what we want or need.

There was a family in our ward a while ago whose three-year-old was dying. He had so much internal bleeding (from an illness) that one evening his whole diaper was soaked in blood. His father gave him a blessing that he would live long enough to make it to the hospital. These parents and the baby's doctors had been treating the illness for several weeks; the parents had been praying for God's will to be done and that they could accept it. Everyone thought he would die. But that night, at the hospital, the mother had the thought that it was OK for her to ask for what she wanted. She wanted to keep her baby boy; she prayed for him to get well and live so she could keep him and raise him. He did heal and is completely cured; that was six years ago.

I believe there are times when God will just fill in the rest because we need Him to. But I also believe there are times we need to ask for His help. I guess the real answer is to keep trying, AND to keep asking. And to believe that the help, the solutions, whatever we need, will come. And to keep believing. That is the best we can do.

Another Deep Question

I've been reading and hearing a lot lately (and have learned my whole life) that if you've done your very best, then Jesus Christ will make up the difference. But how do you know if you've really done all that you can—your very best?

When I was 16 I took a ballet class at the University of Utah—my dad would drive me to the class, stay and watch. It was an adult class and I was the youngest one in it; and probably the best. I felt like I worked in that class—I paid attention, did the exercises right, consciously worked at all the things I knew I should be doing; I thought I was doing my best.

There was a young man in the class (probably in his mid-20's) who was fairly good-looking, and whom I thought was a good dancer. I may have even had a little crush on him—but mostly because a guy in a ballet class is a rarity, and his being there automatically made him cool in my eyes. (Actually there was another man in that class—he was at least 60 and I didn't have a crush on him.) Well one day, instead of dancing, the younger guy just watched the class; maybe he was sick or something. I was a little nervous that this cute, good-dancer guy would be watching my class. Something interesting happened: Even though I didn't really feel like I was working harder, my teacher commented over and over about how well I was doing that night. She even told me not to overdo it and wear myself out; she wondered out loud why I was doing so much better—-was it because my dad was watching the class? I thought that was kind of funny; my dad always watched the class. And I didn't feel like I was doing more than I had any other night (although I realized it after the class, when I could feel a little more burn and tremor in my muscles than usual).

Now, I had thought that I was doing my very best all along, every time I went to class. But I guess on that night I gave just a little extra push—some more polish to my performance—and I outdid myself. So while I was doing very well before, on that night I really did do my very best.

So my question is this: How can you ever know if you are really doing your absolute, very best? Can you always push just a little more? How do you know that you've really done all you can do, and so now it's OK to say, "Fill in the rest, please?"

So, I was thinking . . .

. . . that here I am, asking how to get my kids to focus less on gifts and more on what Christmas is really all about, while at the same time I am making a mile-long wish-list. Hmmmm.
Is there a problem here?

The Reason for the Season

The Christmas season is upon us. Traditionally, our family puts up all the Christmas decorations on the day after Thanksgiving. I always make extra pies to have on that day, and if we have Thanksgiving here, then we eat turkey sandwiches while we work. Since we had Thanksgiving at Grandma North's house this year, I cooked a small turkey for our family to have on Friday as part of the decorating festivities. I was a little bothered, though, by two of my kids saying that to them Christmas meant a big tree and lots of presents. Yes, I like those things too—I'd have to say that I like them a lot! But I really hope that Christmas means more to my family than that.

Tonight I watched How the Grinch Stole Christmas with my kids. (The Grinch is an appealing villain if there ever was one!) After the show I said to the kids, "The Grinch stole all the Whos presents, all their decorations, and all their food. But the Whos were still happy on Christmas morning. Do you think you would be happy on Christmas with no presents?"

They all said they would still be happy on Christmas even with no presents. So I pressed them further, asking if it would still feel like a holiday—different from other days—without the presents. They said yes, because they would still get to visit with family. Some of the younger ones said we could go to Grandma's and they would get presents there. But I said, "No. What if there were no presents at all?" Most of them said they would be OK with that; some of the older ones said it would be a little disappointing, but it would be all right. Jason said it would be good as long as we still had the special Christmas breakfast. Over all, I think they all agreed Christmas would be good as long as we spent time with our family.

So then I asked if they would rather get a present, or give a present. All but Ryan said they liked to give presents better (but I have long suspected that Gifts are Ryan's Love Language). So I said to him, "You mean you would be happier if you got a present, but no one else got any?" First he said, "Yes," but then he cracked up, laughing, and said, "No. Not really." He explained that that would be unfair and wouldn't really make him feel good.

Tonight we ended up by reading a Christmas story from the Ensign before we had prayers and I sent them to bed. You know, we do talk about Jesus' birth during Christmas time; we have several nativity sets around the house; we read the Christmas story from the Bible, as well as Christmas stories about giving and sharing. And I truly have great kids—I think they really do know what it's all about. But I'd like it to be even better. So, here's a callout for more ideas to help the true meaning of Christmas shine through; and to help my kids focus more on the giving than the getting. Any thoughts?