Reindeer-licious!

Every time I look at these reindeer cupcakes I have to laugh. They are hilariously adorable! I knew I had to make them after I showed the magazine picture of them to Grant and he absolutely squealed with delight. Who thinks up this stuff? People are so creative...I'm glad that I can benefit from that. Christmas goodies...what fun!

Little Ballerina

Grace had her dance recital last Thursday. Her little class was so darling! They did a tap number to "Here Comes Santa Claus" and a ballet performance to "The First Noel." She has been dancing and singing around the house for weeks now, but the funny thing is that she only knows half of "The First Noel." This is the rendition we regularly hear:

"The first Noel the angel did say
hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm fields where they lay.
In fields where hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm sheep
hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm deep.
Noel, Noel, Noel, Noel!
Born is the King of Israel!

The outfit chosen by her teacher for her class couldn't have been any poofier and Grace loved it. The matter of her hair was something I was stressing over, but Grace has come to the point where she regularly asks for a ponytail, which is no small miracle. Because her hair is so fine, that was about the only hair-do we could manage in answer to the teacher's call to have the little girl's hair done "cute." We put the pink bow that came with the outfit above the ponytail and she was as fancied up as I've ever seen her.

Pirouette, plie, de cote, and all that.

Grace and some of her "ballet friends" on performance night.

Hugs for our tiny dancer.

She was so excited! Thanks to everyone that was able to be there and to all the rest of you who cheered her on from afar.

O Christmas Tree

It has been such a blessing to have Heather and my parents close by. Living near my parents, especially, is an experience I never expected to have. For the first 9 years of our marriage we lived over an hour from Chad's mother and 3 hours from my parents, so now living minutes from Chad's family and mine is nice change. They can stop by here any time and we can do the same. We can also get together and do fun things, such as our 2nd annual Christmas tree excursion which ended with hot chocolate and gingerbread men at our house. Good times! I made peppermint whipped cream this year to top our hot chocolate with, which everyone really liked, and the gingerbread men are always tasty. I have to admit I ate an arm to go with my glass of water. Where is my self-control??

The victims...

The big debate...which part of the gingerbread man do you eat first? Whichever it is, that first bite is always accompanied by screams of "Ahhhh! Don't eat my (fill in the blank)!"

The grown-up table...ha-ha!

This year's beauty...what a wonderful, green, fluffy, divine smelling tree!

Puh-thetic!

You should have seen me this morning...I was crying by the toilet. Ah, the pathos! I'd finally had it and indulged in a pity party. I've had a sore throat for days now, then it brought some friends to stay named Cough and Congestion. I lost my voice and have squeaked and sqwaked instead of conversed. I haven't slept well because I can't breathe and I can't indulge in NyQuil or anything that actually works because of the bun in my oven. I've had so much lemon and honey over the past four days it's coming out of my pores. (That and I have permanent peppermint Tums breath courtesy of the worst heartburn I've ever experienced in a pregnancy.) You might think that I'd get a pass from morning sickness in light of my other annoying problems, but no. So, this morning after a rotten night's sleep and family scripture study that I vaguely remember involved the Last Supper, I went to the bathroom to heave up my guts. In my hurry to avail myself of the facilities, I didn't ensure that the toilet seat was securely up and it came crashing down on my nose. (I have a fantastic bruise.) That was really...just...it. I sat on the bathmat and cried and felt sorry for myself. I knew I was indulging in useless tears but it made me feel better and helped to clear my sinuses. Plus Chad was so sweet (he's actually always that way but I was extra appreciative this morning). I think this will be one of those moments that will be super, extra funny when my life's history is replayed before the Lord. We'll have a good laugh then; it's actually decently funny now.

Catching Cobras

Merritt wrote a short essay in his best penmanship. It was entitled "How to catch a King Kobra." I thought it was hilarious so I'll share. (Spelling as in the original.)

"How to catch a king kobra.
First get rich.
Sencond buy an unbreakable glass cage.
Third go to where the king kobra lives.
Fourth open the cage.
Fith put some thing king kobras love to eat.
Sixth hide and watch the snake eat the food.
Seventh then close the cage.
Fnaly go home with the snake.

If you want to catch a king kobra this is how to do it."

Here's the ferocious captured creature...I love the alliteration of King Kobra all spelled with "k's"...cobra should totally be spelled with a "k", it looks much more fierce.

It's all in the hats...

We put on a "play" of sorts for FHE earlier in the month. It was grandly titled "The History of Thanksgiving!" It involved the wearing of hats for everyone except me, cuz I was the narrator and what kind of hats do they wear? Chad was a pilgrim father (isn't he so long-suffering!) and Grace was a pilgrim child. She's holding a baby because that's Oceanus, the baby born during the Atlantic crossing. (It's not that SHE had the baby...the children played WITH the baby. Let's get that straight.) Anyhoo, Grant is Chief Massasoit and Merritt is Squanto. He really liked being Squanto because he thought the name was cool. So, I don't know how much they learned about the first Thanksgiving, but we ALL learned that construction paper hats make everything more fun.

In Focus

One of those "branded in my brain" memories is when, at age 5, I walked out of Logan's Standard Optical with my brand-new glasses. They were blue plastic, which my father fondly told me brought out the blue of my eyes. Dad, I've seen my school pictures...yikes! Oh well, I wore them with all the confidence of a 5 year-old who believed she looked pretty because her daddy told her so. But I digress, back to my story. I walked out of the store, took a look around me and exclaimed in surprise that there were trees on the mountains! Who knew? Prior to that point in my life, mountains had been big brown blobs. What a surprise to find they had definition and rocks and bushes and trees.

Grace came home with a note a few weeks ago...it was from the school nurse. She'd failed her eye exam. Sigh! I called a gal in my ward whose little guy wears glasses, hoping to get a referral for a local doctor, but alas! She takes him to see a specialist in Salt Lake City, no luck there. I looked up our provider list, randomly picked a name, and called but got the answering machine. I don't like business answering machines - I figure if they want my business they should answer the phones...I'm picky like that. Anyhoo, I chose again and this time hit the jackpot. Not only did they answer, the doctor turned out to be a great guy who totally put Grace at ease and made the whole process fun (minus the dilating eye drops which Grace hated and which made her declare between sobs that she wanted to go home!). My little gal did not want glasses, she said they were bad for her eyes, but Dr. Jensen (who wisely asked what her favorite color was) took us out to the kids eyewear section where everything was at child-level and presented her with a pair of pink glasses to try on. It was all over from there. We tried on about five pair before she settled on one and from then on she couldn't be budged. And I did try to budge her because I had a sinking feeling that she'd picked the most expensive pair in the store, but, as Chad noted, if it means she'll wear them then it's worth it. And wear them she does; Grace has been a very conscientious eyeglasses owner. Plus, I got that warm and fuzzy feeling that comes from doing right by one's child when we walked out of the store and she declared, "I see trees! I see bushes!" Not too bad, and (taking a leaf out of my father's book) I tell her that she looks beautiful in her glasses, and she does.