Our Christmas tree

This is us in front of our tree just before we cut it down.

When I was a little girl, we used to make these really cheesy pine cone reindeer, and construction paper Christmas trees (one dimensional, until you glued on the "cinnamon hots" at which point it became 2 dimensional)or the juice lids pictures (kid made, not the cool looking ones one can make/find now)complete with a bow the size of a grapefruit, Christmas colors coordinating totally unnecessary. I remember the time my sisters and I made an entire gingerbread village out of none less than corrugated cardboard. This was back before the cool corrugating scrapbook machines. We carefully pealed off the outer layers so that we would have just the wrinkly insides. I guess we thought that looked better?! It had everything: gingerbread houses, gingerbread stores, gingerbread trees and fences, gingerbread people and was of course displayed on a "gingerbread" base.

But it didn't end there. We also made all kinds of little "gingerbread" ornaments for the tree. Now I doubt we planned for them to start out as cardboard. But Mom, in all her wisdom opted to NOT let the three of us (and that should explain a lot) into the kitchen ourselves, as we were going to do this on our own as a surprise. So the village/everything else was made of cardboard, because that looks pretty much like gingerbread! Anyway, when we finished ALL this 2 hours later, (the amount of time should explain the quality of the decorations) we were pretty darn proud of ourselves! Looking back on this now, I am sure my mom was "thrilled" to be presented with all this...stuff.

I can only imagine the roughly cut out cardboard people and houses covered in glue and cotton balls and toilet paper flowers, ready for hanging with the little bright orange bailing twine loops. We were around the ages of 7, 6, and 5. So it couldn't have looked great. But the thing I remember most is not her reaction at the time. I don't remember that AT ALL. What I do remember is that when I was almost 14, we were unpacking our Christmas stuff and decorating our tree when I came across one of the little gingerbread men. All that remained of his cottonball whatever, was the hard stuff that had become part of the glue. He had that floppy cardboard fold going through his middle, and the bailing twine loop by which to hang him. My mom had kept him, after all those years.
Now in my later teen years, I remember thinking how nice it would be to have one of those fancy, matching, coordinated, "festival of the trees" trees. My friends had them. Wasn't it time for us to have one? We weren't little kids anymore, did we really still need all this "junk"?

Now that I'm a parent, and I have the opportunity to have one of those trees, that's not what I want at all. Our Christmas tree is a story. Every year we take out the ornaments and tell where they came from (I suppose a lot of family's do this). My mom tried to buy us a new ornament for our own trees each year as we grew up, and I still have some of those, but it's interesting to me how they are not the ones that mean anything to me. It's our kids' construction paper trees, and popsicle stick frames and handprints in clay that are most treasured.

We have a sock from when Spencer was tiny as it was his comfort item, a piece of wooden track since he and Jacob love Thomas the tank engine. There is a foam ball Matty used to play with, and a binkie from each of them as babies.

We also have various ornaments made from a piece of our past years trees. I have a hard time saying goodbye to our trees after they have been so loved! John has learned to just set the "questionable" ornaments to the side and I will hang up what I want. And most interesting is how more and more of the store bought ornaments are remaining in the boxes as our kids progress through school.

If you come by our house, you will find our "homemade" tree proudly displayed as our centerpiece. You will also see our kids' art work displayed in our front windows. So here's a shout out to my mom: Thanks for teaching me that I (we) mattered to you. Thanks for hanging my (our) artwork and "masterpieces" on the fridge...and the front windows...and the Christmas tree. It wasn't their physical beauty. It wasn't there tactfulness. It was me. It was us. I get it now!

And just so everyone knows, before it is suggested that I see a psychologist for my tree attachments. I don't keep all the kids' creations. Maybe some for that season so they feel special (the kids, not the ornaments!) then we toss out the ones that won't last and aren't...their best representation!

Jacob's understanding of The Nativity

For those of you who do not know, Jacob is two years old. He has an extensive vocabulary for a two year old, as seems to run in our children. This year we purchased a nativity scene as we try to do each year. On occasion I like to seek out ones that the kids can interact with, and that is the case this year as I found a playmobil nativity.


 The kids were so excited to set it up, and anxiously put all the tiny pieces together. The older kids kept referring to the manger as "Baby Jesus' bed".When it came time to lay the Baby Jesus in the manger, it was no where to be found. We searched and searched, but to no avail. Spencer finally said "Where is Baby Jesus' bed?" and Jacob piped up "Oh, I know! I know where it is!" and off he ran.

Seconds later he returned with Mickey Mouse's bed from a toy playhouse. It was a perfect fit! "Here it is!" Jacob told us. And he carefully laid Baby Jesus in Mickey's bed.

The older kids told him that we were looking for the manger, the straw. But he would have nothing to do with that. Even after we found the manger in a container, he would not let Jesus sleep in that! I guess even at his young age, he realizes the importance of this most honored of men. Such a sweet way to start the Christmas season!

This is what the scene is supposed to look like.

And this is what it DOES look like!

Reality check...for myself.

As of late I have determined a few things: #1- sleeping is a waste of time (as much as I like it) and if I could do away with it and eating (as much as I like that, too),I would have a whole lot more time to accomplish the things that are the reason for my #2.

#2-I used to have a clean home. I used to vacuum every square inch of our house at least twice a day, before work and after work. I used to clean the bathrooms everyday. I used to dust. It was a goal of mine to never go to bed with a dirty dish in the sink. Then 5 children happened, (and I do mean "happened") and a 1400 hundred square foot home to house said children. Now don't go getting all "grateful" on me. I am VERY, VERY thankful for my darling home! If you have read my previous posts, then you will know this. (See "Little Patch of Heaven")But now I have digressed. Moving onward.

I will now lead into my reasons for #3. I have this strange need to be perfect. I think OCD runs in my family. Pretty sure of it. And I am pretty sure I have passed it onto at least one of our children. Something about the need to line things up just so, or giving everyone a certain couch pillow and losing it when they get mixed up because only she, uh s/he, knows which pillow is which - (they are identical) drives her, uh, him/her, crazy. So I have this frantic side of me that goes into nut-so mode if anyone is coming to our house and it isn't the way I think it should be. I sort of panic. Okay, I big time panic, and my kids can testify to this. So can John. So can my neighbor, poor MaryJo. I spend most of her visit apologizing for the state of things.

#3 Because I have this strange obsessiveness with having a perfect house at any (every) moment, I assume that everyone else does as well, with one HUGE exception: their houses ARE perfect and I'm the oddball...But lately I have come to my #3. I bet I'm not the only one who's house is not perfect! I think this is a crazy, twisted image we all think everyone but us is able to pull off! So I am going to blow it all to the wind and give you a list of things you can pretty much count on finding at my house on a daily basis. I think I will post this on our front door as a disclaimer before entering.

Warning: You are about to enter the home of two parents who have worked 22 of the last 24 hours, for the last 3976 days. Over the course of that time we have quintupled our load, and been given no more hours in each day in which to accomplish our assigned tasks. Be aware that you may (probably will) encounter the following:

Dishes will be in the sink, and perhaps on the counter, possibly on the table from breakfast...and lunch...even though it is now almost dinner.

You are pretty much guaranteed to see a couch full of laundry, you may even get an eye full of underwear. But rest assured, it is a different load than the one you saw last time you visited.

We may very well be mid-homework battle as you enter. Which means that the insane amount of papers that a first and fifth grader bring home each and every day may be bowing the table under it's weight.

If you are lucky enough to come at a meal time, you may smell the yummy scents of meals being prepared verses the alternative of the lingering scent of a very full diaper. We have two of them in diapers at the present, so chances are not in your favor.

You are almost guaranteed to find cheerios on the floor under the table. Or between the couch cushions.

You may be greeted enthusiastically by boys flying at you off the couch. Or a baseball being pitched toward you at high speed.

You will probably witness an operetta. Just nod and tell her how beautiful it was.

I may be in my sweats.

I may or may not have had a shower.

My hair will most certainly be in a ponytail. I may have snot dried on my shirt.

I may not even have a bra on. Scary but true.

I confess that part of the reason there will be dishes in the sink is my dislike for food. Not all food, just easy food. Mac and cheese, cereal, scrambled eggs, ramen soup, grilled cheese sandwiches. Pretty much if it's quick and easy, then I won't like it. There is something about a meal that takes 2 hours to prepare and 13 bowls, cutting boards and pans that make it taste great! It's an area I need to work on.

I promise you there will be areas, possibly visible from the doorway, that need to be dusted.

There is a good chance that someone left their underwear on the floor in the bathroom.

Any given day, in one of the rooms, somebody's laundry basket will runneth o'er onto the floor.

There may be tooth paste on the bathroom sink, jelly on the kitchen counter, last nights dinner spilled over in the oven. The microwave probably needs to be wiped out.

If you come at bedtime, you are guaranteed to witness our "stay in your bed, don't get out of it one more time" teeth gritted battle.

At the end of the day we will look around as we rake up toys, and clothes, and cheerios, and think of all the cleanups we did today, and all the "me time" we did NOT do today. And we will think "How is it that I never stop all day long. Never. And at the end of the day it looks as though I have done NOTHING!"

"Ye have been warned. (Spencer likes pirate talk.)

Now, if you are willing to admit that you laughed at this posting because it's your life too, come on in. All others, make an appointment and I will clean up the cheerios first."


(This is the part I won't post on the door. It's my own reality check.)
There is a time and a season.

I probably will also rock my babies to sleep. I'll toss a ball to our 4 year old. I'll kiss the kids goodbye as they leave for school. We'll do homework together. We'll do chores (as hard as it is to believe), together.

John will read them chapters from this weeks book. He'll wrestle and give piggy-back rides, and hold them in his lap while we all eat dinner and then we'll watch a movie, or play a game and pray and read scriptures and we'll do the (yes it is dreaded) teeth brushing and pajamas battle, then he'll carry them off to bed like a sack of potatoes with a tickle and lots of giggles.

So at the end of our day when the house looks defiantly like I haven't done a thing all day, we ask ourselves "Why do we bother?"

But at the end of our lives, when the house is once again perfect and vacuumed twice daily, and the kids aren't there to drop cheerios on the floor and run naked from the bathtub, I hope we will tell ourselves "We did what mattered."

Cheap Entertainment-To infinity and beyond!

I think this is pretty self explanatory. Jacob's Buzz Lightyear wings. John. You do the math.

Now that's "Falling with Style"!

And to be fair to John: pictures of everyone else (except me. I'll spare you that scary sight!)

And yes, we did let them jump off the couch, err...fly off the couch.

Our traditional fall picnic

By now you know the tradition: picnic between Saturday's conference sessions and priesthood session, bribe the kids into taking our family Christmas card picture, and enjoy the beautiful weather. And this year we didn't stay in a rat infested cabin!

Just love this one!

Does she look mischievous or what?!

Our "big kids".

Our sweet babies!

I should have known better when John suggested we do a couples walking pose! But I do love this guy so I guess I don't mind! He he!

Our handsome boys!

Our pretty princesses

The day wore poor Avvy out, and snuggled in the sling against Mommy, she gave up and took a nap. So sweet!

A few curiosities

Every once in a while the kids do something that just makes me stop and wonder. Why? Really? Hmm...
Here's my list of some of these. I will continue to add to it.


Why is it that kids NEVER spring out of bed spontaneously on a regular school day, but if you finally have a Saturday that you don't have to be up (which are on the endangered species list around our house), you better believe they will be in our room at the crack of dawn wanting breakfast or something else.

How come peace and quiet is the last thing we get, even though we would love to have some. And when we finally do get some silence in our house, it means the kids are up to something they shouldn't be?!

Why are boys so obsessed with poop, farts, burps and other bodily functions? Seriously?! And why do they want to share with you all the poop stories, jokes, etc. that they find so funny? Gross!

Why do babies wait until they are in a fresh new diaper to fill it full of stinky-ness. Why didn't they just do it before you took off the last one? (Maybe this all evolves into the above curiosity)

Why is it that we can't convince our 2 year old to eat anything off his plate, but he will eat a jelly bean that is stuck to the couch cushion? Or an eraser off a pencil or the unidentifiable brown glob from beneath the restaurant table, or who knows who's piece of chewed bubble gum from the parking lot, and the worst of our personal experiences: a cigarette butt from a public ash tray!! Oh, you better believe he got his mouth sanitized over that one!

How do kids have a perfectly clean room in the morning, and a declarable disaster zone by afternoon?

Why is it that I can yell all I want about homework, or chores, or being nice to each other and they never seem to hear me? I have even had one or more of them say "Oh, I didn't hear you." Whatever! If I had whispered "I have fresh cookies, hot out of the oven" they would have heard that!

How come kids "forget" they have homework until 11:30 at night! (Now Mom, I know I did this, too.)

Why do we have a trampoline in the backyard and still the kids insist on jumping on the couch?

How do kids manage to flood the entire bathroom during a bath?! I've even tried the old "you'll rot the floor one of these days and find yourselves sitting in the crawl space with the spiders" line. They don't seem to hear me.

Two things we lost this summer.

As school ended this year, we looked forward to our traditional summertime activities: end of year school wrap-ups, awards and such,three immediate birthdays, two major summer holidays, minor trips to visit Aunt Terry, the highly anticipated Jenkins Family Thingy, and family picnics, hot dog roasts,etc. plus milestones for Avonlea and Jacob. And all the crazy antics the kids come up with in their boredom, along with our garden's progress.
We, of course plan to store these memories on our computer, which holds a crazy amount of other memories, not to mention all of our passwords, access to websites such as Blogger, and other information that I don't want to look up each time I access the sites. So of course I over loaded it with pictures and it died! Well, actually I think it had more to do with the fact that it is over five years old than what I stored on it. Regardless, it has been a test to not have a computer!
Just to teach me not to get comfortable, or how important a backup of our pictures is, I lost the memory disk to our camera. Full to capacity with all the above listed activities. It was carefully stored in the pocket of the camera. But no more. Sick does not describe it. Sorry can't come close. Sad doesn't begin to express my feelings. Gone are the 10 year old birthday pictures, one of the last few years of Spencer as a young boy, not even a little boy anymore and this the year he told me he was too big for a theme birthday party and wanted just an ice cream cake instead. Gone are the darling pictures of Olivia and her "wedding birthday" cake, dressed in her wedding dress-ups. Only at six would you want such a thing! Gone are the pictures of Jacob's birthday cake depicting his obsession with Buzz Lightyear, and maybe even more sad than his birthday pictures, the pictures of his last day of one, along with proof of the HOURS I spent on birthday cakes during July.
Each time I think about it, I realize more of the memories we no longer have documented: Matthew's Cache Children's Choir performance singing "we all know frogs go la dee dah dee dah", Olivia's end of year ballet recital at the Ellen Eccles theater with her bouquet of flowers she was so proud of. Olivia's haircut: from waist length to shoulder length. And home improvement project before and after pictures.
I guess I should be grateful it wasn't full of blessing or baptism pictures. But dang it! Has anyone seen a memory card sitting around anywhere?!