Family Ritual

I try really hard to create fun family activities so we can spend time together on the nights that Jake is home. I spend hours pouring over internet site looking at all the family night ideas. I look for recipes of fun little treats that we can make together. I am even willing to shrug off my "uncrafty" facade and break out the scissors and glue to make a fun board game so we can all gather around the table and giggle at one another. When I put in all this hard work, it is sometimes disappointing when my little ideas turn out to be a flop. It frustrates me so bad when Tylie won't pay attention, when Jake flops on the couch because he is tired and he makes Tylie roll the dice for him, or when Mason consistently attacks whatever we are doing and sends Tylie into a rage of frustration.
I learned a long time ago that sometimes no matter how much work I put into things, they are not always going to turn out like a picture taken right out of the Ensign. You know what I am talking about- the family that are dressed in their Sunday clothes for family night. The parents are perched on the couch holding a picture of the temple. The children are gathered around their feet, arms folded, smiling intently, soaking in every word that comes out of their parents mouths. The house is perfectly in order and the mom looks like she just got home from the salon and not a hair is out of place. I pray for these kind of moments but I also live in the real world. I learned to continue to strive for these moments but to take the moments that I am given and enjoy them. These moments have been quite prevalent in my home lately and they can all be attributed to one silly activity.
When Jake comes home at night, he always heads right up the stairs to change before we have dinner. I often follow him so he can tell me about his day and since we are both up there, we are sure to have two little ones right on our hills. It is very common to find the whole family gathered in our room every night. Jake usually turns on the stereo and cranks the music. This irritates me because I feel that I cannot talk to him while 70s rock ballads are screaming in my ear. The other night I walked over and turned it off so I could genuinely respond to the conversation we were having instead of looking like a bobble head on a dash board with a smile painted on her face bobbing her head as if she knows exactly what you are talking about. Mason immediately walked over to the stereo and tried to reach up. He turned and looked at me- the look that says "I want you to fix this mom- get over here!" I thought that he just wanted to push buttons, so I picked him up so he could punch at them for a minute. As we talked, he got more and more irritated. Then Jake turned the music back on. Mason immediately wiggled out of my arms and started dancing in circles. We thought this was funny which means Tylie needed to get in on the action and get some of the attention. The next thing we knew, we were all dancing around our room like fools. The music was cranked to epic proportions and we were pulling out moves I didn't know I had. All for the pleasure of two little beings that don't know the difference between elegance and clumsiness.
Every night since, Mason chases Jake up the stairs and resumes his position under the stereo until Jake turns it on and the dance contest begins. I love watching Mason's face light up when he hears the beat. I love watching Tylie jump on the bed with the excuse that it is dancing. I love watching Jake bop around the room with Mason in his arms. I love flinging myself around without a care in the world that someone will see me and laugh. I guess when Tylie and Mason grow up, they will not remember quite nights in the living room and sweet lemonade and cookies waiting on the table. They will have very different memories of their parents being quite crazy and obnoxious. But when we are dancing there is a feeling of love and unity. We are together. That is what they will remember and I couldn't ask for any more than that.

This is the cold

This is the cold.
This is the cold that makes your breath cut short when you walk outside.

This is the cold that freezes your pipes in the morning so that your husband cannot take a warm shower in the morning before he leaves to work.
This is the cold that makes you day dream of the warm January days in California.

This is the cold that makes your mind go fuzzy enough to think that it is a good idea to go into in the miserable mess and stare at twinkling lights intricately woven through tree branches.

This is the cold that makes your nose hairs stick together and makes your ears turn shades of red you never thought possible.

This is the cold that makes you want to scream when you realize you forgot the cups for hot choclate that you hoped would warm everyone up.

This is the cold that makes you love your car more and more every day- not for the four wheel drive, not for the snow tires, but for the heated seats that cook your buns and make you feel that warm sensation that you never thought you could enjoy.

This is the cold that brings you to your knees in gratitude that you have a warm home, with a warm furnace and a glowing fireplace and warm beds to tuck the kids in bed at night.

This is the cold. It causes my nightmares. Thank goodness for seasons. This too shall pass.

Thanksgiving

Lots to be grateful for. Family, good food, happy kids, and a turkey bowl.

Once there was a snowman....

No, this was not Tylie's idea. It was Jake's and my mom's. Tylie just went along with the whole crazy idea. It is probably the biggest snowman I have ever seen. Just for the record, I did not participate in playing in that nasty white crap! I just stood by with a camera and tried to avoid flying snowballs. I am just glad that Jake is still a kid at heart so he can entertain Tylie with all the cold activities so I don't have to!

Burned Cardboard

Last night brought another late night at work for Jake so when he finally returned home at 10:00 he was famished because he had been in meetings all day and had no time to eat. I had been up to my mom's for dinner so I didn't have anything prepared but thank goodness to Kelsey who had bought a pizza and was offering her leftovers to Jake. Jake usually likes cold pizza but, for some reason, last night was different and he decided to warm it up. I was in the basement and was ready to go upstairs and heat it up for him but he calmly informed me that he had popped it in the oven already. For the next twenty minutes I listened about crazy meetings, unruly reporters, and the ins and outs of being an editor of a magazine. Jake was on floor acting as a jungle gym for Mason when I asked him about the pizza. He casually said that he would go check it in a few minutes. "What did you set the oven on?", I inquired. The reply I received was something I considered, at first, to be a joke. "Ummm... 400 degrees." Haha- very funny. "No really", I said "What did you put it on." He is looking at me trying to read my face to see if there is really a problem. "Really- 400 degrees. Is that bad?" I heard the last part of that sentence from the stairwell because he was already bounding up the stairs. I should not have been surprised by this but it did not change the fact that I wanted to bang me head against the wall, repeatedly, because my husband really does not understand that not everything has to be cooked at volcano heat speed. Midway up the stairs I knew it was not good. The house was filled with the rank smell of burned cardboard. Oh yeah- I left that part out. He put the entire pizza box in the oven. Smoke was billowing out of the oven. Doors and windows were wide open spilling in the freezing November night air. Kelsey immediately went to work fanning the fire detector trying to prevent it from going off and waking up Tylie. Through all the billowing smoke, Jake emerged with a Little Caesar's box that was completely unsinged, unharmed, unburned. The pizza inside was melty, crispy, and warm to perfection. This did not serve me in my lecture to Jake but I was happy that his meal was preserved and he was not going to go to bed hungry. So today my faith in Little Caesar's is renewed. If their pizza can hold up to Jake's ridiculous "cooking skills" and still be $5- they deserve all my business. And their cardboard boxes deserve a few props too. I do not want to give them 10 stars for taste but I will give them 10 stars for resilience!

Easter comes early!

I love the holidays for all that they offer. Caroling on cold winter nights, warm fires crackling in a decorated fireplace, bright lights lining the streets, and holiday music tinkling in the background of every store you enter. I love every holiday for different reasons but one common thread runs through them all for me. I love the treats that magically appear on the shelves. I hoard all the specific treat that I love for that holiday and then patiently wait for the next holiday to roll around so I can indulge on the next decadent little packaged sugar lump that is waiting for me. For Christmas it is chocolate oranges and marshmallow covered Santa clause; for Halloween it is the mixed bag of Butterfingers, Baby Ruth, and Almond Joy; for Valentines it is chocolate cinnamon bears and Juju hearts; and for Easter it is Reese's peanut butter eggs, Peeps, and Cadbury Mini Eggs. Easter has to be one of the best holidays by far for the candy. It is the holiday that I yearn for each year. I get so excited when Valentines Day is over because I know what is coming next- a world full of mouth watering creations that I often joke with Jake about that we need to put some in our food storage because I do consider them "food staples." I was wondering on through the store yesterday casually talking on the phone to Brittany. I turned the corner and BAM!!! I ran right into a little treat that I only get in April of every year. The were Cadbury Eggs Christmas version.

I couldn't help but stop in my tracks and immediately interrupt britt to tell her what I just found. If anyone could understand my excitement, it would be Brittany. She loves these things more than I do I think. I clearly remember when we were younger she would buy about 6 bags right after Easter and hide them away for a later date. I guess you could say that she had the "food storage" mentality. I would always be so jealous of her when in July later that year we would be packing up to head out on a family reunion. She and I would be in the back seat of our massive beast of a suburban making our beds and staking claim to which side of the seat was ours. She would then whip out a fresh unopened bag of "mini eggs" and I would salivate watching her eat them. I would have to bargain away quite a few average treats of mine to just get a few of her delicacies. So when I ran into these at the store I happened to be on the phone with just the perfect person. She didn't believe that it could be the "real" thing so I bought a bag and rushed home to see if my dreams really could come true. Sure enough- it was the real thing. Just disguised in Christmas colors. When I close my eyes and let them melt in my mouth, I can almost smell the spring time flowers and hear Easter Egg Hunt squeals in the background. I know that it is snowing outside and winter has just begun but a little bit of spring is warming my heart today. So "Yes Virginia, there is a Santa Clause" and might I add; an Easter Bunny too! They have teamed up and are spreading joy and sunshine around the world one Christmas mini egg at a time!

Halloween!!!