More Cookie Love . . .

Every year at Christmas my sis-in-law Audrey makes delicious cranberry white chocolate chip cookies.  I love them.  There’s something about the white and red that is decidedly holiday appropriate. So I decided I would add them to my repertoire this year.  I bought all the ingredients ahead of time and then asked her for the recipe. She referred me to the back of the Craisins bag. There was the recipe, but it seemed to be missing the macadamia nuts I remembered being included.  Hmmm . . .

Since I’d already bought the nuts, but I’m too chicken to alter a recipe on a whim, I googled ‘cranberry white chocolate chip macadamia nut cookies’.  Seriously people, what did we do before Google?

I found a recipe on Epicurious from Tyler Florence that looked promising, and guess what? It is SCRUMP-DILLY-ISHOUS!  The Hubby crowned them “Like, professional good.” They are chewy but also a little crisp on the edges.  They are chock full of cranberries, chocolate and nuts in every single bite. And I think you should make them.

Enjoy a delicious holiday cookie from Tyler Florence {and me}:

Cranberry White Chocolate Macadamia Nut Cookies

Ingredients:

• 3 cups all purpose flour
• 1 teaspoon baking soda
• 3/4 teaspoon salt
• 1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, room temperature
• 1 cup (packed) golden brown sugar
• 3/4 cup sugar
• 2 large eggs
• 1 tablespoon vanilla extract
• 1 1/2 cups dried cranberries (I used Craisins)
• 1 1/2 cups white chocolate chips (I used Ghirardelli)
• 1 cup coarsely chopped roasted salted macadamia nuts

Preparation:

Preheat oven to 350°F. Line 2 large rimmed baking sheets with parchment paper. Sift first 3 ingredients into medium bowl. Using electric mixer, beat butter in large bowl until fluffy. Add both sugars and beat until blended. Beat in eggs, 1 at a time, then vanilla. Add dry ingredients and beat just until blended. Using spatula, stir in cranberries, white chocolate chips, and nuts.

For large cookies, drop dough by heaping tablespoonfuls onto prepared sheets, spacing 21/2 inches apart. For small cookies, drop dough by level tablespoonfuls onto sheets, spacing 11/2 inches apart.

Bake cookies until just golden, about 18 minutes for large cookies and about 15 minutes for small cookies. Cool on sheets. Do ahead Can be made ahead. Store airtight at room temperature up to 2 days or freeze up to 2 weeks.

Here’s the link if you want a printable copy of the recipe:

 http://www.epicurious.com/recipes/food/views/White-Chocolate-Cranberry-and-Macadamia-Nut-Cookies-236823#ixzz17ccE8QAT

I did use parchment paper, which I think really made a nice crisp, but not burnt or over done bottom on the cookies. Let me know if you try this recipe!

Thrifted: Four Nativities . . .

For the second day in a row I have driven to the school within an hour of sending my kids out the door to pick up one who’s lost his breakfast upon arrival.  And a happy holidays to you too.

I need calm. And peace. And less barf.  So today I’m going to talk about something dear to my heart:  nativities and thrifting. Good combo, no?  Thrift stores, garage sales and estate sales are great places to find second hand, unique nativities.

This sweet nativity was a gift from The Queen.  She found it at a thrift store in Denver {thrift store mecca}.  It is porcelain and its figures have a very soft pastel Hummel vibe.  Joseph fell and cracked in half.  But I don’t mind.  It sits at the top of our stairs and I love seeing it as I ascend and descend multiple times a day.

The next nativity was a find at our outing to the Morven Park Rummage Sale.  It cost me $1.50.  When I saw it in an original box, I assumed it must be old. Plus it was gold.  I am a sucker for gold.  The figures in the nativity spoke to me and said, “Take us home. You know you want to even though we’re missing our shepherd.” So I did.  When I opened it, I found out it was made of plastic.  But I don’t mind.

The next nativity holds special meaning to me.  I got it at an estate sale about nine years ago.  It was no ordinary estate sale though – it was the estate sale we held after my grandma passed away.  She had this tiny nativity and I fell in love with it both because it was hers and because it had a great natural looking creche.

The shepherd is also missing from this nativity and the angel’s wing is broken, but I don’t mind.

The last nativity is my most recent find.  I got it at an estate sale when we were in Denver in October visiting my brother and his wife.  It was $15, but it’s Italian plaster and has all the pieces, so I think it was worth it.  I’m in love with its chippy,deeply colored figures.

Hello little lambie.  I love you.

I love wisemen who look like they actually came from the Far East.

And I love that the Baby Jesus is almost as big as Mary.  Could you imagine if babies actually came that size?

Wow, I actually feel more calm now that I’ve looked at all these pictures of Jesus and those involved in his birth story. Do you have a favorite nativity you put out for Christmas?  Do share.

When Dads Offer To Help . . .

Last night was cold.  Cold and crazy.  It was Monday, which meant I was rushing to craft a healthy dinner and hoping to fit in a quality Family Home Evening that would further cement in the minds of my children that this season is about Jesus and his birth, not just Santa and getting massive quantities of presents. Yeah, I know, lofty goals.

The Hubby swooped in at the eleventh hour. In an effort to get to the point where FHE was possible, he offered to be the man on The Get Ollie To Bed Routine.  It’s pretty simple, really.  Wipe the dinner carnage off his face, change his diaper, get him into some warm footy pajamas, turn on his nightlight and white noise, then sing a couple of songs while rocking him in the rocking chair. Add a pacifier and a blanket in the crib and he’s usually got heavy eyelids and sweet baby dreams on the brain. Works like a charm and the boy goes to bed without any issue nine times out of ten.

Last night was the one time in ten he didn’t.

The rest of us were gathered in front of the fire talking about the role of the shepherds on the night of Christ’s birth.  Suddenly The Hubby jumped up and said, “Ollie’s crying”.  He went to check on him, came back down and said, “He’s really not happy, but I think I know why. You should come up and see.”

We all rushed upstairs and this is what we found waiting for us:

Yes, The Hubby had in fact put Ollie to bed in a Halloween costume.  His comment was, “I don’t think he likes sleeping on the tail.  Or maybe it’s having his hands in the mittens.”

We all had a good laugh, including Ollie who was so happy to see us all gathered together in his room.  Then The Hubby admitted that since there were no pajamas in the drawer, he’d just used what he could find {instead of coming to the laundry room for a clean pair of PJs}.

Once Ollie was in the right attire, he drifted off to sleep easily and we carried on with our FHE.

Thanks for helping out Hubby.  It was worth it.

To Purge or Not To Purge . . .

Welcome to my closet! What does it say about me that I have twice as many black, gray and white clothes as colored? BORING.

Please don’t judge the insanity of hanging the clothes by color.  Or having all the hangers facing in the same direction.  It’s a bit OCD, I know, but it works for me.

Last week I FINALLY cleared out my summer clothes and hung up all of the long sleeved sweaters and shirts I’d been grabbing from plastic bins under my bed since it finally decided to turn cold.  This changing of the wardrobe is a twice yearly process that is the product of a too small closet and my need to purge regularly.

After having the same conversation in the past two weeks with two different people concerning ‘closet purging’ , I thought I’d share my process. 

Here’s how it goes down: 

I begin by taking sections of clothing down at a time.  I sort through each piece of clothing while asking myself three questions: 1) Have I worn it in the past year? 2) Is it ill fitting, stained, torn or otherwise worn in such a way that it’s not mendable or worth keeping? 3) Do I love it?

Depending on the answers to those three questions, I make three piles – the clothing in good condition that I am not going to keep goes in the ‘To Donate’ pile, the stained or unmendable clothing goes in a ‘To Toss’ pile {not many items make this pile}, and the clothes I’m keeping get neatly folded and put in the plastic bins under the bed until I get them back out in a few seasons.

No matter how many times I complete this process, there is always a pile of clothing at the end to be donated.  This could mean several things. 

Maybe I’ve lost weight. I had a lot of clothing this time that was from last winter when I was still nursing Ollie.  I was bigger.  My chest was bigger.  Those clothes dwarf me now.

Maybe I’m fickle about clothes.  I have a hard time reworking outdated trends into my wardrobe.  Sometimes I’ll stare at a piece and wonder “What was I thinking?” I guess it’s a good thing I don’t buy expensive clothes.

Maybe sometimes I wear a favorite into the ground.  You know what I mean – the armpits become sketchy, the color fades from so many washings, the shape becomes an amorphous blob.

Maybe I’m just brutal about getting rid of things I don’t use.  Especially when I know there are other people who could be wearing them.  I have no emotional attachment to clothing – I don’t want to be the person who keeps a sweater from 9th grade because I got my first kiss while wearing it.

And maybe a lot of it has to do with liking a tidy closet.  Always have. I used to clean my closet out on my own when I was in 4th grade.  I’m weird.

Are you a closet purger?   Or is your closet overflowing with clothing that you do not wear, do not fit into, do not NEED?  This is a great time of year to go through your closet and weed out the nonessential. Someone else could use those clothes!

Tell me how you handle your closet.

These Things Makes Me Happy . . .

Have you seen these bagels in your grocery store? If so, I suggest you buy them.

 

Thomas’ cranberry bagels are a seasonal item and they are right there at the top of my happy list right now.  I’m slathering mine with cranberry orange cream cheese and enjoying it with a cup of Stephens Gourmet hot cocoa in the morning. And because of these bagels it feels like Christmas.

Other things that are making me happy it’s the Christmas Season:

* I’ve got my Cookie Baking scheduled.

I’m doing a batch or two a day and storing them in my downstairs freezer.  That way I don’t get overwhelmed by all the baking at the end of the month.  And that way I can sneak a cookie out of the freezer, into the microwave and then into my mouth ALL MONTH LONG.  First up, THE Ginger Cookies! Next, Cranberry White Chocolate Chip Macadamia Nut Cookies.  And yes, recipes will be shared.

* The Christmas Tree is up!

But not decorated.  We figured we’d give Ollie a few days to get used to it before we hang the temptation right in front of his face.  I’ve got 90% of the Christmas up.  I’ll hit Costco today for fresh greenery and hopefully finish up by the weekend.  And yes, photos will be shared.

* The Christmas Cards are ordered. 

Yes, I said ordered.  As in I am simplifying my card sending process this year and I couldn’t be happier! Jones Design Company even sends gorgeous coordinating address labels so I don’t have to write my return address on 100 cards.  Our family picture, taken by my friend Sue, looks great. And yes, I’ll share it after I’ve put the cards in the mail. Bonus that three families are so on the ball they’ve already sent us cards that are now gracing our wall of fame! I love getting Christmas cards.  Want to send me one?  Email me and I’ll give you my address.

* My Christmas Giveaway is almost ready.

For those of you who want to enter this year, start thinking about your favorite holiday tradition to share with me.  Next week I’ll give the low down on the loot! Because you, my loyal readers, are amazing and deserve to win some free stuff!

Hope you’re also getting into the holiday spirit wherever you call home.

PS.  I spent $100 on that make-up.  One-HUNDRED-Dollars.  Aack.

Taking The Plunge . . .

Well, I’ve gone and done it.  I’ve spent a ridiculously large sum of money on a very small amount of make-up.  I’ve had a minor stroke over the sum of money I plunked down and now I’m slathering my face with the stuff. But only a few times a week because I’m lazy and my face needs a break every once and a while and Holy Cow! this eye shadow WAS NOT CHEAP!

I’ve also photographed it for you to see since you were the ones who convinced me to buy it.  I took a first shot with just the make-up, but it was so pathetic looking and I really felt like make- up this expensive should be properly ‘styled’ so I threw in some wood, some ironstone and a few sea shelly types. Better, don’t you think?

I ended up with three MAC eye shadows and bareMinerals concealer & foundation from the very kind and very made-up gals at Nordstrom.  And despite the exorbitant cost, I have to say that I am really liking all the products I bought.  I did return a brush to bareMinerals before even leaving the store though. Just couldn’t fork over that kind of money for a brush.  See, I’m still a cheap-o at heart!

I’m trying not to feel guilty when I walk past the make-up aisle at Target and see the $5 eye shadow.  I feel like I’ve cheated on a loyal boyfriend.

I know.  I’m weird. So, any guesses as to how much my foray into fancy makeup set me back?

Uh Oh . . .

This one’s trouble.

Should I be concerned by the fact that he looks completely proud to be wearing my favorite lipstick?  Probably.

Should I be worried that the shade he chose to ruin actually matches his shirt? Maybe.

Should I even bother decorating a Christmas tree this year? Yet to be determined.

All I know is that this little Owlie boy of mine is cut from a different fabric than the other three.  You know, the fabric that has CRAZY on it.  Like climb up on the counter tops and unwrap a hundred sanitary products and unfold the laundry as you fold it and turn on the gas burners on the stove crazy.

Man, I love this kid.  Look at him.  He is hilarious and so stinking cute and full of vivacious personality.

But mark my words.  HE. IS. TROUBLE.

PS. I went to salvage the lipstick this morning and found that it was gone.  As in he’d eaten it.  Excellent.

Hiking & Waterfalls & Bears, Oh My!

While in Tennessee we took a day to explore Great Smoky Mountain National Park.  The Hubby strapped my Owlie boy on his back and our Uncle Brinton {in the far distance} carried 2 year old Mason on his shoulders.  Nothing like great Dads to make a family hike possible!

I was only mildly concerned by the bear warning signs at the start of the trail up to Laurel Falls. If you see a bear, stand your ground, don’t charge it, don’t feed it, yadda, yadda, yadda.

I was more worried by the “sheer cliff drop off” signs that encouraged you to control your small children lest they fall to their deaths.

At some point I stopped paying attention to the bear signs altogether. Instead, my trusty camera Edward and I enjoyed the beauty all around us.

Truly, it was quite a gorgeous day and the hike was just what our bodies needed after the turkey coma from Thanksgiving day.  We spent considerable time at the actual waterfall and then made our way back down the mountain.

Imagine my surprise when, upon our descent, we were stopped dead in our tracks by a medium sized bear cub meandering his way down the slope above and directly across our trail path about twenty feet in front of us!

My kids were completely enthralled.  Meanwhile, I had every bear mauling story I’ve ever heard replaying in my head.  Should we lay down and pretend we were dead?  Should we shout at the bear?  Should we name it Sally and take it home as a pet? I couldn’t remember a single bear fact aside from “Don’t’ feed the bears.” I mentally commended myself for leaving the snacks in the car.

I snapped a quick photo {yep, it’s a total bum shot} and then before a momma bear could find her baby, we made a quick exit down the trail and off the mountain.

Whew! Sharing close proximity with wild and ferocious nature is stressful! But my kids can’t stop talking about seeing a bear up close in the mountains of Tennessee.  It made their trip.

Okay, I’m done talking about Thanksgiving and my near death experience. Thanks for bearing with me.  Hardy har har.

Go Team!

It’s always fun to take our kids to another part of the United States.  Even though we are all part of one nation, each state has its own cultures and customs.

We spent Thanksgiving at a cabin in the Smoky Mountains of Tennessee with the Hubby’s sister and her family.  It was a brand new experience for everyone.

Playing Turkey Bowl football on Thanksgiving morning in our short sleeves was AWESOME!  It was almost 80 degrees outside. My kids were grinning AND sweating at the same time.  The didn’t know what to do with themselves!

Ever wonder how to play football with an infant? No problem, we’ve got you covered:

Ever wonder how to coach adults in their 30’s down to kids ages 13, 11, 8, 5 and 2? Not an issue, we’ve got an uncle for that – and he’s tough but effective {if  a Dragonfly can score a touchdown, he’s doing something right}:

Ever wonder what to do if you’re the only girl cousin playing in the game? No problemo. . . just whip your hair and work it:

Ever wonder what to do if your team is losing? Here’s a solution that never fails – disarm the opponents with your cuteness:

Ever wonder how to reward the winners {and losers}? When it’s 80 degrees outside, there’s only one way. It has to be ice cream:

Football in Tennessee on Thanksgiving with Ice Cream.  Not too shabby for a new experience, don’t you think?

A Wish For You . . .

May your potatoes be lumpy,

While your gravy is not.

May your pie have real whipped cream

And your seat be next to a favorite relative.

May your children behave themselves at the table,

But go a little crazy everywhere else.

May your turkey be cooked to perfection,

And your rolls homemade.

May you enjoy a day of Thanksgiving,

remembering all above all that you are  truly blessed!

Significant . . .

This was the view outside of my plane window yesterday.

It could be very easy to see something like this and feel so small and insignificant. But when I saw this, I felt significant.  I felt like God had put this vista together for my eyes to see.  And I was stunned by the beauty of water, clouds, mountains and rays of light.

I now have one day to pack my family before we leave for Thanksgiving early in the morning.  This gorgeous view is in the back of my mind as a peaceful reminder of how much I missed my life and family.  I will not let fighting, chaos, exhaustion or whining deter me.

I’m grateful to be home.

Going Home . . .

Today I will be going home. I have been away from my family for five whole days. I have had an amazing time with my six Lee sisters. I have been inspired, uplifted and joyful. But I am longing for home.

I go to sleep at night missing my prayers with Hubby and the way he warms my cold toes. I wake up in the morning wanting to run in and grab my wee one, drink in his baby scent and touch his soft hair. I feel lost having not kissed small heads at night and scooted the same heads out the door in the morning. I am always grateful for time away because it makes me realize that time together is what is meant to be for my life.

Secretly I always fear that while I'm away they did perfectly fine without me. That maybe I'm not as crucial to their lives as they are to mine. That my perfectly capable Hubby really can do it all without me and that my job as mom, wife and CEO of the home is obsolete. It's silly, I know, but I still think it.

Tonight I will get home at midnight. Everyone will be deep in the thickness of winter sleep. I will go kiss heads, pull up covers and turn off night lights. And then I will snuggle my Hubby and be glad to be home.

Sweet. Tart. And Oh! So Good . . .

I have a thing for limes.  In the middle of a blustery fall day, they make me feel like it’s summer.  They make my little vintage juicer happy too, so it’s a bit of a win win at my house.

Speaking of winning – today you are the winner.  Because I feel like sharing some limey  goodness with you.  And you’re gonna want to shout about this one on the roof tops.

The recipe for Coconut Banana Bread with Lime Glaze is from the treasure chest of a cooking website, Our Best Bites. If you haven’t visited, do it now.  You won’t regret it.  And you won’t regret making this bread. It is banana bread to the next level.  It will make you buy bananas just to watch them go brown.  Your people will love you . . . if you haven’t already eaten the entire loaf by the time they get home.

You can thank me later, after you’ve licked the sticky goodness from between your fingers.

 

Ps. I’m off to the West for a Sister’s Retreat . . . yeah, it pretty much rocks.

The Miracle of the Pig . . .

Though I won’t go into it in great detail on the blog, I have a child who is falls squarely under the ‘Picky Eater’ umbrella.  It means that every meal is a challenge. It means that every ingredient is scrutinized. And it means that one momma chef is a little weary a lot of nights.

When Ollie joined our family, I was determined not to have another selective child who gave me a run for my culinary money. And though I introduced him to a variety of different foods, I knew there was no guarantee he wouldn’t follow in the steps of a certain non-eating sibling.  There seems to be something about genetic hardwiring that even a control-freak mom like me can’t control.

But I have a secret weapon. And his name is Hammy. He’s the little pig that reminds my kids to have manners at meal time or get stuck doing the dinner dishes. And now he is waging the war against picky eaters. 

About three weeks ago our incessant “What does the piggy say” finally paid off when Ollie started making a snorting noise and pointing at Hammy whenever he was seated in his high chair.  I would bring Hammy out to watch Ollie eat.  That quickly turned into ‘pretend feeding’ Hammy to get a chuckle out of my baby boy.  And then the magic began.

The first time I ‘fed’ Hammy, Ollie’s mouth immediately opened wide as if to say, “I’ll take what he’s having!”.  Now, any time I ‘feed’ Hammy, Ollie wants a bite too. 

So Hammy is becoming a regular fixture at breakfast, lunch and dinner these days.  He’s spattered with all kinds of food muck – I swear, he’s such a pig!  But I don’t mind.  Because my little guy is coming away from each meal with a full tummy having tried everything the pig ‘ate’.

Take that, picky eaters!

Thoughts Weighing . . .

Twenty-seven pounds on one’s back can get heavy after a lot of walking.  That’s the thought that kept weighing on my mind as Ollie weighed on my back last week when I took Jennie to Great Falls. 

At first he was fine and almost weightless on my back.  But the longer we walked, the more I felt the strain in my shoulders and neck.  Combine that with the fact that we were navigating narrow passes and steep rocks, and I felt that each step I took had to be measured carefully and executed with intense precision in order to reach the beautiful view at the top.

By the end of our little trip, I was worn out. Glad I’d done it, but worn out nevertheless. Jennie had to help me retrieve my infant from his little carrying cocoon because I just couldn’t do it alone. I was very grateful she was there.

***********

We are not meant to walk the rocky road of this life alone with burdens that weigh on us and wear on our souls.  I continually marvel at a loving Creator who has put a true and constant friends, devoted family, a selfless husband and a perfect Savior in my path to help me on my way.  At times they simple walk beside me reminding me that I can continue on my journey.  Other times they physically and emotionally bear the weight of my load making it so light I can barely even remember it is there.

It is remarkable to look back on some of the narrow passes and steep rocks I have navigated thus far in my life and revel in the gratitude I feel for their difficulty.  At the time, each trial seemed to get heavier and more pronounced. There have been times I was sure I could not bear it.  I felt defeated and deflated and the end seemed nowhere in sight.

But always, with help from those meant to be my life’s companions, I’ve found my way through the difficulty to the view at the end. And it is beautiful.

I am grateful for thoughts weighing.

Ollie @ 16 Months . . .

Our sweet lastborn has been with us for sixteen months.  He is delightful and daring and pretty much runs the show around here. He fills my days with his busy-busy ways, his babbling talk and even a few terrific tantrums.  Here’s what else the boy wonder can do:

* Finally wear his feather light, white hair in a little faux hawk.

* Say bubble. Over and over and over. He also says hi, bye, go, woof woof, cheese, shoes and momma.

* Follow a set of complex directions, like “Go get your shoes and bring them to Mommy” or “Can you throw the diaper in the trash can?”.

* Climb up on our couch, dining table chairs and various  other child endangering, height-involved items.

* Turn on the Queen’s iPod and pick a song at random.

* Laugh at a joke without getting the punch line.

* Charm the pants off everyone at Costco with his waving and “hi”. And I mean everyone.

* Put his favorite lamb stuffed animal under a blanket and make a snoring sound to tell me it’s asleep.

* Make every diaper change an exercise in futility by wiggling and writhing and crying in protest.

* Talk on a phone, cell phone, electric razor or remote {to him, all phones}.

* Cheese hard for a picture.

* Slide down all five slides at our local park.

* Run full tilt.

* Spot a plane at a ridiculously far distance in the sky, point to it and say “Ooohh.”

Photo of Ollie in his Little Man Sweater taken last Friday.

Friend For Life . . .

A few months ago I mentioned feeling a bit alone in the close friend department. And I am still learning what that means in my life right now.  Mostly it means that because I am so busy with my four kids and their schedules, my church responsibilities and the general day-to-day running of an empire {okay,  household}, I am okay with it.  But there are still those times when I long for a long phone chat, a good gut laugh or a night out with a girlfriend.

Enter Jennie.

Jennie and I met in college.  I knew instantly that we’d be friends for life.  We connected on another level.  It was a hilarious level. And she has not disappointed me ever since. Everyone should have a friend like Jennie.  Someone they can:

* Tell their heartbreaking stories to.

* Laugh with about words that are gross, like moist or paunch.

* Cook new recipes with.

* Share photographs from life’s adventures with.

* Watch the final episode of Lost {again} and cry with.

* Tell horrific bikini waxing stories with.

* Lay hopes, dreams, insecurities and fears out in front of.

* Paint toenails with.

* Be inspired by.

* Share a love of chocolate, travel, pens, kitchen gadgets, words, books, design, vampires, art and movies with.

* Laugh with.

* Cry with.

* Have deep conversations about life, love and God with.

* Laugh and cry even more with.

So this morning when my sweet Hubby told me my recent blogging was lacking, I told him I didn’t care.  Not because I don’t care, but because my friend Jennie flew all the way across the country to see me and I want to enjoy her company. Because she’s been there for me and I want to do the same for her.

If you’ve ever had a friend like Jennie, I know you’ll understand. If you’ve ever been a friend like Jennie, I adore you.

We’ll be friends for life.

Photo secretly stolen off of Jennie’s blog. 

My Dad, My Hero . . .

Every year on November 11th our elementary school holds a very special Veteran’s Day Assembly. 

Every year the the Cub Scouts enter in their little blue uniforms to post the American flag, the audience recites the Pledge of Allegiance and children from each grade sing a patriotic song to honor the veterans in attendance.

Every year my dad attends, looking dapper with his medals on his chest and his cap firmly on his head.  Every year {for the past seven years} he has called the other veterans to attention to salute the children, faculty, staff and families in attendance at the assembly. 

And every year I cry. Like a baby.

I love you Dad.  Thank you to you and all the others who serve our country.

ps.  Blogging sporadically as my AH-MAZING friend Jennie Doezie is in town and we must PLAY. :)

Thinking Out Of The Box . . .

I’m thinking about Christmas gifts for my children already.  Are you?  I’m pretty sure I’m going to go to Costco and get Ollie a bunch of free cardboard boxes for Christmas.  They keep his attention longer than any other toy we have in our house. 

I have a lofty goal of getting my shopping done by Thanksgiving this year.  Which is crazy since I will be travelling for eight of the next sixteen days.  Still, my intentions are good.

Last night we had a Family Home Evening where we talked with our kids about true service.  I think November is a perfect time to remind them that the greatest joys come not from receiving, but from giving to others.

Last year for Christmas we began a new tradition of finding a way to make a charitable difference in a complete stranger’s life. After some research, our family chose to donate to Charity: Water . Our children were unaware that many children don’t have clean drinking water in underdeveloped countries.

This year our children are excited to choose individual gifts to  give schools in underdeveloped countries through the WorldVision progam.  Hannie is leaning towards art and music supplies for a school, Big C wants to give soccer balls and RedDog was moved by the idea of mosquito netting so that children don’t get malaria.

What about you?  Do you have a charity of choice?  Are you teaching your kids to make a difference?

Two Guys, Too Funny . . .

Have I ever mentioned that my Hubby is funny.  Like gut splitting, pants peeing funny.  He makes me laugh on a daily basis.  I blame him for the crow’s feet around my eyes.  I’m sure if I hadn’t laughed so much in the past fifteen years, I’d be wrinkle free.

On Friday I sat with him as he came out of anesthesia after minor surgery.  It was possibly one of the funniest moments we’ve ever shared together.  Especially when he motioned to me to come closer and then whispered, “Hey, come here, I have to tell you something . . . I’m a NINJA.” I guffawed and he replied, “No, seriously, don’t tell anyone, but I’m a ninja!  Watch.  I can make my heart rate go below forty.”  Then he made his heart rate dip into the 40’s and looked at me with a boyish grin and confirmed it, “See – ninja!”

I love him for making me laugh.  And now I love him because he’s a ninja.

My PhotoBro {the one with the Mac on his lap} is also very funny.  He is completely egotistical in a strangely endearing way.  He is random enough to bust out a foreign accent or weird animal noise at the most appropriate {or inappropriate} time.  He’s talented and wacky and a totally insensitive attention monger.  And I adore him.

Lately he’s been sparring with me for one-upping him in the “fame-ishness” department. Which is impossible, really.  I mean how could I be more fameish than someone who works at THE Library of Congress, takes amazing photographs that everyone admires, rides a bike {like a Ninja!}, is almost forty and can get away with a hair-do that looks like this:

We’ve named it the Chicken Hawk. And today I thought I’d share a video with you that proves my Photobro is pretty darn fameish. Click here to enjoy a bit of his fame!

I’m off to tackle piles of laundry higher than Ollie.  And laugh about these two guys the entire time.