Unexpected 2: The Saga Continues

“So, I was telling the nurse . . .” I pause in mid sentence as both the doctor and I stare at my very pregnant belly.  Whatever is coming from that cool hear-the-baby thingy is NOT normal.  It sounds like a horse galloping over a cliff. A three legged horse that keeps stumbling, missing a beat. 

The doctor swishes over to the other side. No better. This heartbeat is just off.

“Yeeeaaaah, I’m sending you over to the hospital right now.” The doctor informs me. “AND, at 38 1/2 weeks, I don’t see a reason to not just keep you there. I think we just need to do this c-section today.”

Oh FLIP! my brain starts going off in  a million directions.  This IS NOT what I was planning on today!

First, I have to wait for my friend to finish her appointment. She’s due just 3 weeks after me, but because of a medical reason can’t drive, so we do our appointments together. 

 

And my sister, who has been my emergency backup, is in Utah for two weeks with her whole family.

 

And my next door neighbor, who is my secondary backup, is in Idaho for the next two weeks visiting family.

 

And the wonderful woman who is watching my kids right now . . .I don’t have her phone number in my cell, so I just hope that it’s listed in the phone book.

 

And my Hubby is off flying somewhere and not scheduled to get home until Friday.

 

Just a couple of things going on here!

I find the wonderful woman’s phone number and let her know what’s going on.  Then I call my in-laws and ask if they can manage the 2.5 hour drive tonight to pick up the kids from her house.  And then I try to call my Hubby. (no answer).

 

I dash back home, throw my toothbrush and retainer into my hospital bag. I tear around the house grabbing socks and pants and blankets for the kids to have at Grandma and Grandpa's. I pull out the kids car seats so they can drive safely. And then I speed the 30 minute drive to the hospital.

 

I find my way to Labor and Delivery. They hook me up and ask 6 million questions.

 

AND . . . everything looks normal.  But I’m just not quite comfortable.  And I start having contractions.  Now, normally, I’ve been having one really good contraction a day, and a handful of “oh maybe that was one” along side it.  But in the 60 minutes I’m hooked up to that machine, I have 7 good contractions.  Not regular, not hard enough to say I’m in labor, but I just don’t normally have that many contractions.

I get 5 calls from my can’t-drive friend, 3 from the wonderful woman, 4 from my in-laws, and one from someone else from my church.

And I still can’t get ahold of Hubby.

Two marvelous  men from my church come to give me a blessing.  The one brings his wife so I have someone to stay with me. 

And still Hubby’s phone is turned off. (LAND THE FREAKIN PLANE ALREADY I NEED TO TALK TO YOU!!!)

The nurse calls my doctor. Because everything is looking so great, and I can’t get ahold of my hubby, he decides to send me home.  BUT because things were just so off in the office, he really doesn't want to wait until  my scheduled date of Aug 6 (which is two days AFTER my due date).  But he’ll talk to me later.

AND I’m still having contractions. What?!?!?! I really don’t get that!

I start to drive to get my kids.  And FINALLY I get through to my Hubby! They’re holding the plane for him to get back to Chicago, so he can then fly back to our place hopefully by tonight. Even though we aren’t doing the surgery tonight, I’m grateful he’ll be there soon.

It’s now  6:00. I’m STARVING. And I figure my kids will be too.  So I stop by Little Caesar's and grab two pizzas – now Hubby will have something to eat if I got back to the hospital.

I get to the wonderful woman’s house.  Someone has ordered pizza delivered to her house so she can feed my kids. (aww, aren’t people great!). So we sit and eat that pizza, and I save mine for Hubby. Just as we finish eating, the In-Laws call: “Hi, we’re here. We figured the kids would be hungry, want to meet us at McDonalds and we’ll get you all some food?” Aww, food is so nice even if you don’t need it.

We drive home. I now have time to actually FOLD all those clothes I threw into that bag for the kids so you can actually zip it shut! 30 minutes later I’ve kissed them goodbye on their way back with the In-Laws.

Doctor now calls. We both agree, while everything looks fine, we just don’t feel right about waiting. Hubby has requested (since he’s now not flying the rest of his scheduled trip) that we do this ether Thursday or Friday. Sounds good to the doctor, so he calls the hospital to schedule the surgery.  5 minutes later, I have an 11:30 slot scheduled for Thursday, July 26.

Which means, as I type this, that I have just over 12 hours until I need to be at the hospital.  Let’s see what else this kid can throw at me!  If my water breaks at 2 am, that will be the final CRAZY straw!

******************************************************

Well, my water did NOT break. I did however have the hardest contractions I’ve ever experienced when not being induced!  All night long, 3-10 minutes apart.  Not regular enough to actually do anything, but hard enough to continually wake me up.  I was so happy when morning came and we could go to the hospital!

 

The surgery went great.  And at 11:42 am on July 26, 2012, we got to meet this little guy!

Introducing . . . .Little Fellow

(this is my favorite shot from the hospital!)

He’s 7 pounds 7 ounces of joy.  And my little family is complete!

How much fun can YOU have with a pin?

Parents often dream about what their children will be like when they grow up. We discuss our dreams for them, our wishes and joys and expectations.  But none of that can happen unless your parenting inspires those attributes.

In an attempt to help my children excel in some of the most important things in life, I’ve introduced them at a young age to some of the these ideals.  Foremost of which, naturally, is Harry Potter and Narnia. The books of course, not the movies. Girly-Lou still can’t make it through a movie with actual people in it without major fear tears. (yes, I realize you thought I was talking about more than being an amazing geek. But this is ME you’re talking about!)

Over the last few months, we’ve been reading Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone. (Yes, I said months. Their attention span is not huge, and we often go a few days in between readings)

Tonight we read Harry’s ordeal with Norbert the Dragon. My children gasped as they discovered Malfoy spying. They cheered when Charlie’s friends flew away. And they worried when Harry got caught.

After the chapter was over, Buddy wanted to know just what a cloak was anyway (you may recall, the invisibility cloak plays a rather important roll in that chapter).  My attempt to explain that it was like a long coat, only without sleeves or a zipper did not go over so well. Instead I received even more questions. Finally, I had Buddy grab his blanket and I draped it over his shoulders in proper cloak fashion. This was better. I even left a corner that could pretend to be the hood.  Light bulbs figuratively flashed above their heads.  Girly-Lou wanted her blanket done in the same fashion.
Three safety pins later, we had this:



It does this geeky mom’s heart proud to see her offspring cavorting around in cloaks.



Girly-Lou decided to howl at the moon in hers (I don’t exactly know why.)



Buddy couldn’t stand still, his was sooooooo cool.



Even ‘Lil thought it was an awesome idea.



“Look, Ma. I’m a hobbit!”



It was a full 60 minutes that the three of them played together. There was much cheering and joy and silliness.  And even requests to sleep in the cloaks. (but reason prevailed, and this did not happen.)

 

If only I’d known just how much fun 3 safety pins could bring, I think they would have received some in their stockings!
So, what little things have brought joy to your family lately?

The Weekend

*for the about 1% of my readers who don’t know, I’m a Mormon – which means I belong to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. Twice a year we have the opportunity to have a General Conference where we listen to talks given by our Prophets and Apostles. With the wonderful internet, this two day conference can now be watched in the comfort of our homes, instead of dragging our kids to 8 hours worth of church over two days.  This post is about my conference experience October 1 –2.

The time was about 11:12 (or 12 minutes into this 8 hours of religious instruction). I was alone – Hubby still flying, In-Laws still driving to come. Just me and my 3 children. In the past 12 minutes, my older two had already become bored with the 7 different activities I had planned, I had broken up 3 fights, changed a diaper, and was now carrying my 20 month old like a football up the stairs as she kicked and screamed at the top of her lungs.

 

Conference can be fun.

 

Fondly, I cast my mind back  a mere 7 years. Back to when I still sat every conference with my parent’s family, tieing quilts, my notebook close by ready to write down all my thoughts and feelings. Conference meant peace, instruction, time well spent in service and family.

That was not today.  As I lugged ‘Lil up the stairs, Girly-Lou still sobbing from the bite she received at her sisters mouth, those memories of conferences growing up overwhelmed me. Even with two younger sisters, I never remember MY mom dealing with screaming children. Even growing up with 20 or so nieces and nephews, I never remember MY sisters dealing with this many fights and sobs in conference.

“What am I doing wrong here?” I asked myself. “I’m sure my sisters broke up fights, but in spite of everything I do, my children are not happy. They haven’t grasped the joy that this weekend should be. Why? What more could I do? Is there a point of even trying anymore?”

And there, standing on that stair, I received one of the largest outpourings of the Spirit I have ever had.  I was overwhelmed with the sweet feeling, that today again brings tears to my eyes.  My sacrifice was acceptable before the Lord. It was important, these things I was trying to teach.  It was good that I tried to show my children how wonderful listening to the words of God is.  That eventually, they too would find conference an uplifting experience.  It may take years, but the seeds I was struggling so hard to plant, would eventually take root and grow, and my children would someday thank me, like I thank my Mom for showing me how to live and listen to the Spirit.

 

Being a Mom is tough work. There is SO much that MUST be learned at such a young age. There’s the regular stuff – how to get dressed and tie shoes and make beds and clean up after yourself. There’s the mental stuff – letters and numbers and how to be nice and manners. There’s the spiritual stuff – that you are loved by God, and the Atonement, and not to lie, and all of the wonderful things to remember.  The younger you teach ALL of these things, the better off your children will actually remember and believe them. It’s a lot.

But I had forgotten one important part. I wasn’t actually alone.  That these things were all important to their Heavenly Father too. And if they were important to Him, then He would help me if I would only ask.

So I did.

First, I gave up on ‘Lil. When she gets super ornery, the only thing to help is a big dose of Elmo. So, with her on a different floor of the house happily watching on the portable DVD player, the rest of us could actually hear what was being said. I paused the stream (love that feature!) and explained to my children, again, just why we were listening. Informed them that I had prepared activities for them, but if they didn’t like those activities it was up to THEM to keep themselves quietly entertained. I reminded them of our treat bowls (inspired by this post), and if they were not quiet enough to hear the words, they would not be able to pick anything out.

One hour later, when my in-laws arrived, they came to a fairly quiet house. My children were all paying attention (to their level), and I actually knew what was going on.

It was one of the best Conference weekends I’ve ever had.

Summer Sewing: Kid edition

Did anyone start to wonder if I was still alive?

I am. Life is even going pretty well. But, with an almost 3 week trip visiting family, a massive activity to plan, and two kiddos starting school, this little blog has really suffered.

But enough excuses: on to the good stuff!

I've mentioned several times that we made a summer bucket list. We managed to cross of almost every single thing - and the three that are left are all ones that cost money (I'm cheap, what can I say!)

Before our fabulous trip (really, everyone should experience 10 hours at the airport with three kids and no stroller), I taught my kids to sew.

Every once and a while, I think about how flippin easy kids have it today. Ok, that sounds like I had it hard too. When I mean today, I mean in the last 80 years or so.  No chopping wood, no hauling buckets of water, no plucking chickens.  Sure, many people never learned how to read, and died super young, or had a chance at education or things like that. But little kids started doing chores - including sewing and baking - at a MUCH younger age than we would consider it today.

Girly-Lou is almost 7.  In pioneer days, she would be making patchwork quilts and mending pants.  And she just barely grasped those silly lacing cards.

So, I asked her what she wanted to learn to sew. I said we could do something like a bag, or a pillow case, or something like a monster or a toy. She instantly grabbed onto the monster idea.
 
We bought a big pack of felt, and she picked out all the colors. I did a quick pattern according to her instructions (crazy eyes, big teeth)

(why does blogger sometimes randomly turn pictures?)

She helped me trace them onto the felt.  Then I showed her how to pin the face pieces together, and how to sew by hand:

She had it super fast!

Once all the face was sewn to the body, I helped her sew the front and back together.  We kept it really simple (straight lines!), and just turned it inside out, leaving the entire bottom open. We stuffed it together, then sewed along the bottom (yes, you can see that seam. But since it's felt, it's not going to fray, and it's a super easy way for a first project!)

Once we were done, Buddy decided a monster would be pretty cool too.  He changed his design up a bit, but we followed the same steps.

And my monsters get to show of their monsters!

There's a long way to go before they really know how to sew on their own, but it was a great first step.

I'm linking up HERE

*do you guys like linky parties? They are such an awesome place to get new ideas (and a bit of a time suck too!)

Life Gaurd

My Hubby helped save a life yesterday.

I get regular, incredibly detailed descriptions of his flights. While I could never land a plane, I've begun to understand when he starts talking "flaps 22, gear down, chop and drop" (basically it means it was hard to get the plane down to land because of a difficult set up.) Honestly because of the immense technical details, I tune most of the conversation out. But yesterday's description garnered my full attention.

Before taking off on his first flight of the day, he was informed that he was given "Life Guard" call sign. This sign is given to planes with critical body parts aboard. While he's transported a few eyes and even a liver once, this was his first time flying with a human heart in his cargo bay.

Usually most of his stories are riddled with descriptions of annoying people: this Air Traffic Controller wouldn't clear them to land, that Ramper was totally lazy and wouldn't answer the radio, the Gate Agent was late, etc. Hubby's description of when he was Life Guard was much different. Everyone got out of their way, bent over backwards to help smooth the way. At one point he said "it would be awesome if everyone treated every flight as if it was a Life Guard."

He landed, watched as they transported the organ to another plane for a continuing flight across the nation, and went on with his day. But I could hear the touch of pleasure in his voice as he took pride in helping someone live. Just by doing his job.

How often does one get a chance to be a Life Guard? Hubby did nothing special, not really even different than the dozen of other flights he performs in a week. But by being there, just doing his job, he saved a life.

Do I do that? By just doing my job, have I helped someone else? Hubby has no idea who the recipient is, no idea even where the heart will end up. What actions do I do that could change someone? How can I behave, help, guide, just be there to help someone else.

Even more than that, what about all the other people that didn't fly the plane but made it easier. They just treated with respect, and did their job the best they can. To find joy in your job, to do the very best no matter what. What a hard thing to do when all around us we are told that we "deserve" better, that we ARE better, that this is beneath us.

I work. I work hard. I do not get a paycheck for my job. I do not always find satisfaction in my job. I do not always do my best job. There are times when I just want to give up, run away, be someone else for a few days.

But I don't. There is no way to know when me just doing my regular job will make the difference in someone's life. Just to be there could make me a Life Guard too.

That's enough to inspire me to get back to work. I do love my job, just as Hubby loves his. But sometimes you just need to feel like you can make a difference.

And now I remember that we can.

Joy . . .

is a fleeting thing. But when experienced, can bring glimpses of eternity to your soul.

A few days ago, 'Lil Flower slept from 9:00 pm to 7:00 am. I was stunned when I woke up to her crying and looked at the clock. She's only 3 months old, after all! I fed her, and she instantly went back to sleep. I debated on being productive or just going back to sleep. My bed was beckoning and I gave in. My Hubby rolled over and gave me a hug. Unable to actually drift of, my mind began to wander at just how marvelous it was to lay in bed, wrapped in my husbands arms, listening to the birds calling, sunlight drifting in through semi-clean windows.

A few moments later, Girly-Lou and Buddy come padding into our room. Amazingly enough, they were both happy, not fighting, or demanding breakfast. They climbed into our bed where we snuggled as a family, laughing and playing and tickling together.

This was joy. My soul felt full. I could not picture how this could be better, unless replicated in a few months when 'Lil will be old enough to join in.

My life is full of non - joy. Dishes. Laundry. Fighting children. Bills. Headaches. Dishes. Weeds. Bugs. Dishes. Lack of time. Did I mention Dishes?

But on this day, for this moment. I knew what joy was. My goal is to remember this feeling, and seek more earnestly to find it every day.

I'm in love. (and a give-a-way!)

Sigh. My girl (a girl!!!!) is so cute. Seriously. Just look at her.
Things couldn't have gone better on Monday. When I first heard her cry I joined in. My heart was full to bursting over meeting this tiny creature. We waited for so long (ok, I know many MANY people have to wait longer, but when you're going through infertility, any time at all feels like decades). And seeing my girl for the first time was an amazing experience.

And a girl! I wanted a little girl so much. A boy would have been ok, but my little girl is perfect.

And now, here for this blog, I officially dub her 'Lil Flower. Girly-Lou really wanted a girl named flower. Since I'm not so much into strange names, I thought having that be a blog name would be a bit more appropriate. The 'Lil is short for Little, since she is little, but also because she has my name for a middle name. So she's a little me. And so cute. Look again.


Sigh. (I have no idea why that last photo is turned. But anyway)

Ok, now for some funness. As you may recall, I'm in a test kitchen for a culinary mystery series. They are awesome! And the third book just came out. And I have a copy. You know you want this. There are some amazing recipes in here (like the devils food cake with chocolate cream cheese frosting. to. die. for!).

*blurb for the series: Sadie Hoffmiller is a 50 something widow with a talent for sticking her nose into places. She has a talent for putting the facts together too, and helps the police solve a few crimes, even when the police really don't want the help. Although this is the 3rd book in the series, it works fine as a stand alone book too. Josi Kilpack is an amazingly talented author. Her books are well thought out, engaging, and just plain fun. I love how easily she throws a wrench into her stories you'd never see coming (I seriously loved this book!)

So in honor of my adorable baby girl, you can have your own copy. Just leave me a comment. Tell my why you want this book. Or how cute my girl is. Or why you like reading my ramblings. Or ask me a question.

Only requirements - make sure there's a way for me to contact you in case you win. And make your comment at least 1 full sentence long. Don't just say "You're cool." We're all over that whole year book thing, right?

You have until 8:00 pm central time Feb. 8 to comment. I'll pick one at random to win.

Did my girl have a lobotomy?

'cause I swear she's a completely different girl since we moved.

Maybe this needs some background information. You see, Girly-Lou is a wimp. That's not the nicest thing to say about your stinkin cute daughter, but it's also the truth. The first thing she was ever terrified of- bubbles. Now, granted, she was only 10 months old, but still, what kid is scared of blowing bubbles. She has a very hard time with perseverance, and in all honestly, most days would make a perfect queen. To be able to sit there and have every whim granted by servants so she never had to lift a finger - yah, she's all over that.

Other things she has been scared/terrified of:
the vacuum
sand
dogs
birds
cats
skunks (not that she's ever actually seen a real one)
failure
new shoes
anyone with a beard
any stranger
any family member she hasn't seen in more than 2 days
anything that can move on its own, especially if it has 4 or more legs, including on occasion, crawling babies.

You can see some of these are normal things. But others (new shoes anyone?), not so much.

Which would be why I was totally shocked when this happened:

That would be my scared-of-babies daughter holding a hermit crab. She was in heaven. No fear whatsoever. Let him crawl all over her and just sat there with that satisfied smile on her face. Buddy was fascinated, but was not going to touch that thing with a 10 foot pole.

And then last night, when I thought they were asleep, she comes downstairs holding something between two fingers. "Mom, this was in my hair." Me, thinking it was a rock or a leaf or something said, "what is it". "Um, I don't know", as she shoves it in my face. It was totally a bug. Some flattish brown kind the size of my fingernail that I've never seen before. And the legs were still moving. No fear at all, just calmly showing me this bug that was sleeping with her.

Maybe I can grow a spider smasher yet.

Awe. Just Awe

How does it happen so fast? Everyone talks about it, but there is nothing like experiencing it. Just a few moments ago:

huge yawns in Daddy's arms.
And now:

Ready to cut his own birthday pizza (Come on, I'm not THAT lax of a parent. But he does love to "help" cook, and sitting there holding the cutter was making him happy.)

On Sunday, Buddy turned 3. My baby boy is 3! He also has recently finished another growth spurt, so suddenly this adult proportioned childling is running all over my house. So in honor of my the memories of my no longer baby, I now turn really mushy and doting parentish. (if you'd rather stop reading now, I won't blame you).

Buddy: what a cuddly baby you were. Snuggling with you in the crook of my neck was one of my favorite things ever. While the colic was not much fun, we found a solution to that without too much stress (for anyone still reading, really, it worked wonders!).

I remember telling people at 2 months that we were done with burp clothes. That's because we'd moved on to dish towels. The amount of stuff that came out of you was awe inspiring. And yet, through it all, you were so happy, content to just be alive.

When I found out I was having a boy in July, I planned on just starting you in school a year late. I want my kids to be ready for school instead of pushing them. And then you turned 18 months old and actually started talking. The ideas coming from your mouth made it clear your brain had been very active for a long time. I really don't want to brag about how smart you are, so let's just say that I think you might still be bored even if we start you on time!

My favorite words: upse di down (upside down), Nilk (milk), thnmile, thnow, thmoke, thnack (smile, snow, smoke, snack, s is also a nasal), Bwwwwwue, bawwwwwooon (buzz lips on l), ellemon (11), inside outside (inside out), elem (the letter L). I think your blue is everyone's favorite word. The most amazing part to me is how fast you can say it.

I love your smiles. I love your giggles. I love your ability to crumple your entire body in despair when I tell you you can't have something. Your crazy energy, your beautiful dimple, your tendency to hide all throughout nursery.

Just one thing: stop growing already! My little man, you need to stay a child longer. I'm not ready to give you up yet! Too bad you couldn't stop even if you wanted to. So instead I'll just look back at the hundreds of pictures we've taken, and remember all the wonderful times with my Buddy Boy.

My kiddos

Thanks for all your kind words after my crazy post. I am doing better now (going to the doctor and finding out everything is ok helps a lot!).

This morning we made muffins for breakfast. Since Hubby was flying, while they were cooking I brought my kiddos into bed with me and we read scriptures. I love the feeling of snuggling with my kids while we read.

After, my kids and I just played. I find that I don't spend near enough time doing that. They bounced on the bed (which is like jumping, but not quite), I sang silly songs that I haven't sung to them since they were tiny, we tickled, and giggled, and just loved each other.

I need to focus on these good times. They help remind me of the lightness when times feel dark. I love my kids. They bring me much joy (and some stress too!). So while they are quietly eating blueberry muffins, I am making sure I will always remember this wonderful morning, playing with my Girly-Lou and Buddy Boy.

My boy loves . . .Green Beans?

Dinner last night must go down in HISTORY! for our household. Let me start this with a preface - my Hubby HATES most vegetables. Sure, he'll eat corn, and potatoes, celery or carrots (but only raw), but give him a plate of peas and he'd rather starve. It's not like I'm trying to give him Brussels sprouts, we're talking plain old peas, green beans, maybe steamed broccoli here. He won't have it. I've finally convinced him that he needs to be better, so if I serve it, he'll eat two green beans, three peas, or a floret. But he'll hate, no loathe it the whole way down. More than once I've pureed a can of green beans and hid it in taco soup, just to know he gets some vitamins in him!

I worry that Buddy is headed in the same direction. Veggies are not his forte. I know most kids go through this, and it just takes time, but if my son knows his daddy doesn't have to eat up, he won't either.

To help combat this, I've been very grateful for Hubby's schedule. He is usually gone 3 or 4 nights a week for dinner - which means his example is gone too. On the nights he's home, we do salads, corn, or potatoes, and he eats them up. When Hubby is gone, I serve peas, green beans, broccoli, and I eat them up. Girly-Lou-Who loves them all. Buddy, not so much.

Miricles can occur.

Last night, Hubby was flying, I served tacos and green beans. Buddy doesn't like tacos, doesn't like green beans. I knew I was in for a trial, but that was the menu. But Buddy looked excited for dinner. He watched Girly-Lou-Who dish up, his own enthusiasm a mirror of hers. We said a blessing, and they started to eat. In shock, I watched him pick up his fork and stab a green bean - without prompting! First! He popped it in his mouth and said "ook, Mom, I eat it!"

As I picked my jaw up off the floor, he went on "now youa say not eat!"

Ahhh, the game. He wanted to play a game.

Months ago, Besty over at Momformation, wrote a post about how she gets her kids to eat anything by telling them they can't do it. She hams it up, and the reverse psychology works every time. At the time, I remember trying it with absolutely no success. My kids were too young. Sunday night, as they picked over their meal, some psychology popped out of my mouth, and they devoured their meal. Now I understood what my son wanted - to play the game.

I played along, pouncing on every bite, groaning in despair when it went into their tummies, as they giggled so hard they could hardly chew. I got my daughter to actually use a fork. My son ate a taco. And between the three of us, we actually ate an entire can of green beans.

Miracles can happen. Even over beans.

Traditions . . .

Traditions. TRADITIONS! (are you singing with me yet?)

This year was the first time in 6 years that I've been with my parents on Christmas Eve. Since I've been married, we've just done our own thing, and then gone over Christmas Day to spend time with the family. But now that we're a couple of thousand miles away, when we come for Christmas, we spend the whole thing together.

Now, you have to understand, my family has a TON of Christmas traditions. As in like every thing is a tradition. From the special Christmas plates, to the story Mom always tells (that she can't ever really remember so she kind of just makes up, but still cries in all the same places), to the special Christmas Eve treat, it's like every moment is full of memories.

One of my favorite parts is when we turn off all the lights except for the tree. We snuggle up together on the couches, clutching our hot chocolate and toast, and sing Christmas carols. We all get to pick one at a time, and take turns until we can't think of any more. As I listened to the three part harmony we blended together, I realized there was no where else on earth I'd rather be.

So here's to family. Here' s to peace. Here's to the love that filled our place Wednesday night. I hope your night was as memorable as mine. (and since my sister is about the only one that reads this, I guess it was!)