My Jedi Book-Saber

This January I finally opened the Snuggie that Dave bought me for Christmas-- in 2009. Yes, I'm embarrassed to admit that I waited over a year to take one of my Christmas presents out of the box. (Don't worry, it wasn't my "big" present-- I don't have that many issues with being cold.) I'm wasn't sure why Dave bought me a Snuggie. He said he got it at the last minute because it was a really great deal-- so maybe I'm not the only impulse shopper in the family. :) It probably was actually inspired by our frequent temperature disagreement issues. Dave wore shorts and a T-shirt while hiking through the snowy Alps in high school and has lived through two Siberian winters. I, on the other hand, can feel a light California breeze blow by and insist that I need a jacket so I won't die. So maybe the Snuggie was a smart idea after all.

Regardless of the smartness of the idea, the Snuggie box got put in my office and instantly disappeared in the piles of papers and random junk to be sorted. When it finally surfaced months later it was summer and the urgent need for a blanket with sleeves was somewhat less pressing. But now it is winter again and I finally decided to give it a try. My Snuggie is a nice camel color, so not only does it warm me up and keep my hands free, it gives me the appearance of a cozy-warm Jedi knight.

However, I didn't realize that there was another fantastic surprise waiting for me inside the box. When I opened it, I found that the Snuggie included a free gift: a booklight. And not just any booklight-- a booklight that dramatically unfolds with the press of a button, one that smolders with the eerie blue glow of a lightsaber. Seriously! Coolest. Christmas. Present. Ever!!

In the Nick of Time

For all of you who were concerned because of our lack of gingerbread house decoration this year, you will be relieved to know that my sisters rectified the situation and decorated gingerbread houses with the kids today. Phew! Close call....

Merry Christmas!

Getting into the Christmas Spirit

This Christmas season has been a bit stressful for me. I guess two-month-old baby + husband who works long hours + co-directing a ticketed concert for Cantico + directing/writing ward choir Christmas program = lots of stress and craziness. Two years ago at Christmas I was in a similar situation-- Jackson was only a month old. Although I had one less choir to deal with, I directed the ward choir program when he was only 3 weeks old. Another holiday season packed with excitement....

When you have a new baby during the holidays it seems like you end up sorting your traditions into "necessary" and "maybe next year" piles. There are a lot of smaller things that go by the wayside and the end result is usually not exactly "Martha Stewart." This Christmas has been no different. While Adelyn is two months old, I still feel like I'm decorating with one hand tied behind my back. (Oh wait, that's because I am. Well at least with one hand tied up holding baby.) So I publicly apologize that this year we are not making treat plates for our neighbors, decorating gingerbread houses, mailing Christmas cards or putting up lights on the outside of our house (although I still like to think that maybe Santa will do the lights when he comes... it just looks so sad and un-festive).

I have to admit that I spent the first part of December feeling a bit grinch-y. I had a lot going on and my main focus was survival. So many Christmas traditions seemed like just one more thing that creates extra work or an excuse for excess sugar. And who invented candy canes anyway? Do they have any idea what a sticky mess they make when given to a two-year-old? And why do my two older kids think that just because something is labeled "Christmas special" on TV, it means that they get to watch it regardless of how much TV they've already watched that day? (Oh yeah, they think that because mom is exhausted and has too much to do so she caves in.) Don't get me wrong, I'm not a scrooge at heart. I LOVED the Christmas season as a kid and I remember it being magical. I want it to be magical for my kids too, but I have come to the shocking realization that I am not... well, magic.

My mother had six children, so I'm sure that not every Christmas was picture-perfect at our house. If I think back, I think there were more years that our outside lights didn't make it up than years that they did. And we had a way of cherry-picking traditions at times (i.e. sometimes Christmas Eve was a festive dinner, sometimes it was pizza delivery). But I still remember loving it: they were always happy times, filled with love and warm memories.

Now, with the end of my slew of Christmas concerts, the Christmas season has officially kicked off for me. Things have become more calm and I have had more time to plan our family festivities. I started wrapping presents and checking items off my to-do list. My family is here (hooray!! hooray!!) and Dave has some days off work. (Honestly, I think whenever Dave has time off work that makes it a holiday for me.) But I still felt this yearning for that "Christmas magic" that I remember feeling as a child.

Yesterday I was driving in the car and I turned on the CD player. I felt irritated as I realized that once again I forgot to bring a Christmas CD out to the car. (How lame is it that I don't even have time to bring out a Christmas CD so I can feel festive while I drive around and run errands?) So I listened to the BYU Women's Chorus CD that was in. The song "Wondrous Love" came on:

"What wondrous love is this, O my soul, O my soul?
What wondrous love is this, O my soul?
What wondrous love is this that caused the Lord of bliss to bear the dreadful curse for my soul?

When I was sinking down, sinking down, sinking down
When I was sinking down, sinking down
When I was sinking down beneath God's righteous frown, Christ laid aside his crown for my soul."

It just struck me that this song is the essence of Christmas: Christ laid aside his crown- he came down from heaven, leaving his position as the Son of God, to become a helpless human baby- for my soul. I felt what an amazing gift it is-- that because of Christ we can return to God, in spite of all of our faults and human failings. I truly feel grateful for Christ and his willingness to lay aside his crown for me.

I'll be honest-- the worldly, materialistic part of me still wishes for a picture-perfect Christmas, filled with beautiful decorations, festive parties, handmade greeting cards and holiday cheer. A new baby definitely makes it more difficult to keep up with the "Martha Stewart" parts of Christmas. I just have to resign myself to the fact that, at least this year, our decorations, cards and other things will have to be on a lower scale (or nonexistent). [Who am I kidding? I'm not Martha Stewart even in a year when I don't have a baby.... =) Handmade greeting cards are not even on my list of aspirations... handmade caramel popcorn, maybe.]

I just try to remember that the very first Christmas was about a new baby. Even though they didn't have cameras to record it, I'm fairly certain it was not picture-perfect, despite what the artists who paint it would have you believe. The magic of Christmas is in spending time with those you love, sharing love with those who need it and remembering that Christ "laid aside his crown for my soul" --no elaborate decorations or handmade greeting cards required.

The Christmas Program-- and the close of my holiday performances (phew)

Sunday night I finished my 6th and final Christmas performance. Phew.... I played the Hallelujah Chorus on the organ for a Christmas concert. While I am quite capable at playing the organ, I'm a pianist- not "an organist"- by profession, so playing difficult music on the organ is always a bit nerve-wracking. Regardless, I got through the experience mostly unscathed. ;)

Sunday was also our ward choir Christmas program (not to be confused with my Cantico Christmas concert which was last Friday). Up until even two weeks ago, the ward choir Christmas program was striking fear into my heart. Ward choir in so many ways is always a crapshoot: you don't audition the singers, nobody has to come, everyone in the ward [church congregation] is busy with families and other church responsibilities. You don't have a ton of rehearsal time to begin with. And then pretty much every week you have a different configuration of people and you never know who is or isn't going to show up. That's a scary thing to face as a choir director and an admitted control freak.

I knew up front that the Christmas program was going to come soon after I had a baby so I decided that I was going to pare it way down and just choose really simple music this year. And I really fully intended to.... But I looked and looked and I just didn't find anything that really inspired me or that I felt like singing. So finally I threw caution to the wind and just chose music that I really loved. Some of it was very difficult for a non-audition church choir (think Mack Wilberg/Mormon Tabernacle Choir arrangement...), but I had an accompanist who could play it so I decided to do it anyway. It was challenging music. And about two weeks ago, I was thinking, "What have I done? There's no way we're going to pull off this music. The program is going to be a fiasco and it's going to be all my fault for choosing music that was just too difficult."

We barely pulled together our Mack Wilberg arrangement in time for our stake [multi-congregation] Christmas choir concert last week. But we pulled it off, even with our two main sopranos being either sick or out of town. On Saturday morning we had our final run-through rehearsal to prepare for our church program on Sunday. At that rehearsal something magical happened... it suddenly came together-- all of it. People knew their parts and we started making music. It touched me in a way that many choirs that are much more technically proficient haven't. These volunteer singers were singing to share their love of our Savior and joy at his birth. Their hard work over so many weeks had paid off: the result was beautiful.

Ward choir has its quirks. And I have to admit that sometimes it drives me crazy. There are days when I think that I just can't do this anymore-- one more rehearsal with only 6 people showing up and I'm just going to lose it. But then there are days like Sunday, when I realize how blessed I am to be directing a group of singers who, while they do not have extensive musical training, come together and give their all to make music that shares the message of God's love for us.

Product Recall

For Christmas this year I got uncharacteristically crafts-y and made "neighbor gifts" to pass out to some of our friends and neighbors. I gave them a mug with a cute home-made mix for "5-Minute Microwave Mug Cake." I finished a whole pile of these in the week before Christmas, but because of the huge Christmas snowstorm we enjoyed, they STILL didn't get delivered until January.

I had gotten the recipe for the cake mix from an email and had not actually tried it myself yet when I made the gifts or delivered them. I did finally try it myself a little while ago. I stuck a plate underneath the mug at the last minute as a precaution.

The instructions said "The cake will rise over the top of the mug. Do not be alarmed." Hmmmm.... maybe I should have been alarmed. Or maybe I should have tried it first before making 20 of these and delivering them to friends and neighbors. So how do I issue a product recall? Or at least a warning?

Easily Distracted

Oh yeah, so I was writing about Christmas break. We had a great time, even with our slightly delayed Christmas. Dave got me the American Idol game for Wii as one of my presents. Multiple fierce tournaments ensued... until we figured out that Dave's sister Jen was hands-down undoubtedly the best out of any of us. She basically kicked our trash every single time... but it was still fun. We did the usual Utah stuff... swimming at Papa's pool, Cafe Rio (yum... did I mention how terrible it is that the nearest one is in a different state?), Tucanos, and before long it was time to go home again. Luckily, our flight home was very unremarkable and we got back home as originally scheduled.

A Tale of Two Trips

Most of you have already read or heard the tale of trip #1: on Monday we braved snow and ice to go to the airport only to find our flight was canceled. Meanwhile, Jared and Camryn were already in Utah with Grandma and we faced the prospect of our first Christmas without most of our kids.

On Christmas Eve, the snow finally started to melt. We decided to go deliver gifts to our friends. We pulled out of our driveway and into the street... and that was as far as we got. The 15 inches of snow had melted into 8 inches of slush. And while chains can make even very slick snow drive-able, they are no match for slush half as deep as your tires. It was like driving through sand or trying to swim with our car... less than successful, shall we say. So we had a very jolly Christmas Eve spent cleaning the house, doing some laundry, re-packing some bags, addressing Christmas cards and making a simple Paella (which was fabulous, by the way, and remarkably easy and mess-free).

In the midst of our cleaning, we realized that it was a few minutes to midnight and we had to at least try to celebrate Christmas Eve a little bit, so Dave and I stopped and took a break to sing Christmas carols at the piano. Even though we had already taken down our Christmas Tree and decorations before our first trip to the airport, even though two of our three children were in a different state and the prospects of us getting there the next morning were less than certain, suddenly it felt like Christmas. I felt very grateful: grateful that despite being unintentionally separated for the holiday I had a wonderful family that were all safe and well with a warm house and food to eat. I was grateful for a wonderful husband who was willing to spend an entire evening cleaning house with me and helping me finish up Christmas cards. But most of all I was grateful for the birth of a baby in Bethlehem a very long time ago.

Christmas morning we piled our stuff into Dave's car (the one with chains) and I held my breath as we braved the mounds of slush filling the streets of our neighborhood. I exhaled a sigh of relief when we finally made it to the main road. The weather was clear: so far, so good. On the way to the airport we mailed some letters and returned a movie. There were people coming out of the grocery store, holding their Starbucks cups, just like any other day. But the one that perplexed me was the lady who was recycling soda pop cans out front. Who wakes up on Christmas morning and thinks, "Hmmm, this would be an ideal time to go recycle some cans!"?

We allowed plenty of time so the fact that the lines to check luggage looped around half the airport didn't faze me. The plane was even on time. We boarded the plane, got de-iced and pulled away from the gate. And then it started to snow... and snow... harder and harder. A few minutes later we pulled back in to the gate. We had enough snow accumulation that we needed to be de-iced again. We waited for the de-icer. Then we had idled so long that the plane needed to be refueled. By this time it was almost blizzarding. By the time we were ready to go again there was an accumulation of slush on the runway and we needed to either wait for it to melt or wait for them to call back in the snowplows that they had sent home.

We spent 3 hours sitting on our plane at the gate. During this whole ordeal Jackson sat quietly on my lap like a little angel. (Haha, that was a funny joke.) Actually he spent this time dumping the diaper bag, opening a bag of crackers and emptying its entire contents onto the floor and randomly flailing about, ripping magazines and bumping his head. A few minutes after we took off he FINALLY went to sleep.

We finally landed more than 4 hours behind schedule. We drove to Dave's parent's house and it started to snow again hard. We finally made it home... home to Dave's family, to Jared and Camryn. I didn't realize how much I missed Jared and Camryn until I saw them again. After a week of only having a one-year-old they seemed older. We immediately started with our traditional Christmas Eve dinner: a buffet with Susan's famous dinner rolls, cheese, meat, cranberry salad, shrimp dip and chips, vegetables and dip, mandarin oranges, homemade fudge. It was good to finally be home... away from home.

I'll Be Home For Christmas... Unfortunately

True to the title, I will be home, here in the great Northwest, for Christmas. This was not planned. In fact, the entire day Monday ran like a slightly messed up rerun of "Home Alone." Dave and I had tickets to visit his parents in Utah that left on Monday. But on Monday we had 15 inches of snow in our yard and it was still snowing (understand that in a typical winter we get no snow that sticks and our area of our great state does not have de-icing equipment or plows for snow removal).

Dave and I were getting ready to leave with Jackson for the airport when a friend called us to say that the power was off in their house due to the snowstorm and it was getting colder by the minute. They have a newborn baby and soon the temperature inside would be close to what it was outside, so they wanted to know if they could come hang out with us where it was warm. So they came on over, bringing some other friends of ours who also had their power out with them. They had no idea how long the power would be out for, so they brought bags with food, changes of clothes, etc. which soon covered our front rooms (not to mention the piles of our bags that were out for us to take to the airport). Soon we had 11 extra people milling about and I was throwing towels in the washer and trying to figure out where we could put makeshift beds, if necessary (this honestly was not a problem at all except that the thought of having people, even close friends, see my upstairs rooms and kids bathroom at their current state of tidiness was raising my blood pressure slightly).

Despite taking all precautions and leaving 5 hours early for the airport, chains on our car, just before we got there we found out our flight was canceled. This was very disappointing, but not hopeless. We went to the airport anyway to try to harass the people at the ticket counter and see if we could get on something. It turned out that ALL Southwest flights after 2 pm were canceled. Not to be deterred, I stood in line at the ticket counter for every single airline that had flights to Utah. (At this point a man in line with me suggested that maybe I should hitch a ride in the back of a U-Haul with a jazz band.) =] The soonest flight available on any airline was Dec. 27th. To even get on standby on another airline I would have to be a ticket for later in the week, knowing that I had 40 people in front of me already. This was very disappointing but would not have been fatal, except that Jared and Camryn were already in Utah at Grandma's house. I found myself going from counter to counter searching for any way to Utah-- or anywhere even close-- but there were no flights to be had- for any price. (I guess this is one of those few exceptions to my Uncle George's theory that there are few problems in life that cannot be solved -or at least helped- with a good credit card.) Even the highway to Utah was closed.

What do you do in such a predicament? When you realize that after exhausting all possible options to no avail you are going to have to spend Christmas away from two of your three children? You go out to dinner. Dave and I went with Jackson to the nicest sit-down restaurant in the airport to wait it out just on the off chance that they decided to un-cancel our flight. They didn't, but by the time we had both finished our dinner we felt much better about life anyway. We also were happy that we weren't one of the people settling down to sleep in the standby line for the flight leaving the next morning. We drove home via my favorite pastry shop and then tried to figure out our options.

Southwest Airlines helpfully informed us that didn't have any flights available until the 27th. But as it so happens, our friends whose power had gone out (who were still at our house enjoying the warmth) had tickets to go to Utah on Christmas Day that they were not going to use because he had gotten behind in work because of the storm. We were able to call Southwest and finagle them into giving us their spots on the Christmas day flight. This negotiation was actually quite easy compared to calling Jared and trying to negotiate with him to write a letter to Santa asking Santa to come a day later so mom and dad could get presents too. ("But mom!! I've waited so long already that I even told Camryn that Christmas was tomorrow...") But, as it turns out, Santa wrote Jared a letter, telling him that an elf had informed Santa of his mom and dad's predicament, so Santa would come a day late-- just for them.

So cross your fingers for us that the airport isn't snowed in again tomorrow and that we can make it to the airport. We tried to go out to deliver Christmas gifts to some friends today, but after attempting to drive down our street in six inches of slush we decided it was inadvisable- even with chains. So here's hoping that we'll at least get to spend part of Christmas together as a family. And if not, I suppose we can always go out to dinner.