So this is Christmas
And what have you done?
Another year over
And a new one just begun.
And so this is Christmas
I hope you had fun.
The near and the dear one

The old and the young.

Milestone

On December 19th, my baby boy turned eight and I suddenly felt old. I remember turning eight; it doesn’t seem that long ago. Grandma and Grandpa gave me my first glass doll, I got a very grown-up necklace with my birthstone from Nola and I had short hair like Whitney. My dad made a slide show of my life up to then set to my favorite primary songs (he was the true pioneer of video montage, 1989) and it was the first time I remember having a day all about me. It was a great day. I hope Porter’s big number eight was just as great so he’ll remember it when his first born gets there and he starts to feel a little old.

Porter made the choice to be baptized by his daddy on his birthday. Thank you to all our family and friends for coming, even Porter’s school teacher was there. In a quiet moment I asked Porter to look around at all the people that loved him and to think about the ones who were wishing they could be there and his brown eyes opened wide and he whispered, “Oh. Wow.”. I sat and thought during the opening song how today was only one of the many times in Porter’s life that people who loved him would gather to celebrate his accomplishments and share in his joy. This made me remember all the times that most of these same people have gathered together to celebrate my accomplishments; my baptism, concerts, graduations, marriage, baby blessings and now my son’s baptism. My heart swelled with love and gratitude for my family and to my Father in Heaven for blessing me with them. Any anxieties about the day faded away. I knew that even if Porter doesn’t remember this day in detail, I would. And I will need this memory because when Porter is in the water with his first born child, my grandchild, on his baptism day I’m probably going to be feeling a little old.

We must be having fun because time is flying.

Daisy has been an active member of our family for only two months now, and I'm already saying I can't remember life without her. London can't say her letter 'L' very well and calls her Daisy Whew (Daisy Lou). Sometimes she says Daisy Whew-hoo and sometimes this just gets shorted into Whew that has turned into Roo (I know, Lene, what are the odds of having two of the same nicknames for our kids?). Diasy is cautious with her smiles, but when she does you can see she's got her daddy's dimples. She has bright blue eyes that I think are going to stay blue and this makes me so happy. Porter and London argue over who gets to hold her, sit by her, feed her, but never who gets to change her. I am constantly washing her head because it is sticky from getting London-kisses all day. She only cries when she has a messy diaper or she's getting hugged too tightly. She loves to be cuddled and makes cooing noises when softly sung "You Are My Sunshine".

Here's everyone on their 2nd-month birthdays dressed in their Blessing Day whites.

A sweet alternative...

Some kind of freak 24-hour flu bug came to visit our house this week. So far it's only chosen me and Porter to bother, but at least I made it through last week and that's all I care about. Last week was huge! My newborn is now an infant (2 months-old people!) and my son is now a baptized member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. Huge stuff! I have pictures galore and as soon as I can stand up without feeling dizzy I will organize them into something like a story and tell you all about it. Until then, here are some pictures I already have and a story to go with them.

Don't you feel like you get tons of sweets and goodies around this time of year and that the last thing you need (to give or to get) are more sweets and goodies? To help spread the love through out the year here's what I've come up with: Vacuum packing home made cookie dough with a cute little note and a ribbon. Tah-dah! This has been our tradition for the past few years (except I don't think I did it last year because I was lame). Then the receiver can bake them when they are ready and you never even had to preheat your oven. My Visiting Teaching ladies are going to get these little air-tight bundles with a "Happy New Year's" note and they also make great teacher gifts too! Alright, you can thank me later, I need to go lay down now.

For Sale:

Gingerbread House

Handyman special!

Cozy and inviting one-room floor plan is perfect for entertaining.

Mature landscaping in low maintenance lawn.

Energy efficient; windows and doors never open!

Partially open roof allows for natural air conditioning to save on the cost of utilities.

Great location in a quiet, family friendly neighborhood.

TLC needed.

Knife and extra frosting do not convey.

House is vacant! Come show and sell today!

But Mary kept all these things, and pondered them in her heart. -Luke 2:19

I found the Spirit of Christmas today and her name was Jenn. I was buying the necessary ingredients for tomorrow’s luncheon (I’ll tell ya all about it later) and noticed how young the check out clerk looked; couldn’t have been older than 21. She also looked a little tired even though you would never know by how quickly she was scanning and bagging my things. I tried to make small talk by asking if she was ready for next week, meaning the rush of the last minute holiday shoppers. I think she must have thought I was asking if she personally was ready for the upcoming Christmas. She answered that she was ready because she just sent her three children to their dad’s house till after Christmas because she didn’t have enough money this year to provide gifts for her 4 year-old daughter and her two sons ages 22 months and 4 months, not even enough for a tree.

She continued to look down while scanning and said that since she couldn’t give them anything on Christmas morning she believed they would be happier to wake up to the gifts their dad could provide. She smiled a little while she said that, maybe imagining their faces when they saw that Santa didn’t forget them this year. The grocery store had cut overtime and she knew her paycheck (that wouldn’t be deposited into her bank account until Christmas Eve) would be lacking. It was okay, she said, because her kids would never know that things were so tight and she could still make the rent payment this month. Then after the festivities of Christmas had passed she would get her babies and bring them home with her.

Her name was Jenn and she was not even five-feet tall with brown hair pulled back in a pony tail and lonely eyes that sparkled when she talked about her kids. I wanted to ask if she would be spending Christmas with her family, but was afraid the answer would be no, so I didn’t say anything. I wanted to tell her that everything would work out and I wanted to tell her how I admired her bravery, but the line behind me was growing and she needed to do her job, so I gave her a reassuring smile and wished her a Merry Christmas.

On the way back to my car and while I loaded up my bags I couldn’t stop wondering what I would do if I were her. Would I keep my kids with me so that I wouldn’t be alone on Christmas or would I let them go so they wouldn’t be without a gift on Christmas? I am a very selfish girl. Tonight we’re celebrating Christmas with Olen’s side of the family since we all won’t be in town for the real Christmas day. Then we’ll spend the real day with my family and more eating and more presents and more family. We get two Christmases and I’ve only been feeling bothered by having to finish half of my gifts a week early for the first Christmas when Jenn won’t even have one.

I sat for a long while in my front seat and said a prayer for that brave little mother doing the best she can. I prayed that she wouldn’t be all alone and that her kids really would have the best Christmas ever so their mom would feel happy about the only gift she could give them. It will probably be the best gift her kids will get this year, and they won’t even know they got it. It’s a mother’s love and selfless sacrifice for the happiness and joy of her children. Not unlike a mother’s love that was felt in a Bethlehem stable over two thousand years ago.

I’ve been thinking about Jenn all day as I’ve been wrapping gifts, baking, cleaning and hugging my kids especially tight. I’ve been waiting to feel that “Christmas Spirit” all month and even with all the gift making, shopping, music, gatherings and traditions it just hasn’t hit me. I kept trying to add things to my life to bring on the Christmas Spirit. It wasn’t until I saw what taking things away from my life would be like that I felt the true Spirit of Christmas, right there in check out lane 24.

Good Word Wednesday: Loco-motive

Would some one please tell me when December turned into such a runaway train? I feel like a contestant on The Biggest Loser running on the treadmill trying not to slip on my own sweat while Jillian yells in my ear to push harder and keep running, which is what I plan on doing because I know if I try to stop I'll just get some major treadmill burn down my cheeks (tops and bottoms) and then I will just look like a big loser, not the biggest loser. Whoa, did I get off track. See, what I mean? Runaway train over here. Watch out.

Really it's just that December has become a monster of a crazy month. Like a big soft green and red monster with fluffy fur that you love. We want to catch up with our friends and we want to go to every family party and still make time for all our own family traditions. So far we've been reading from our "25 Days of Christmas" book, and we've had meatloaf and watched "The Christmas Story" (next week we'll do spaghetti and watch "Elf", then it's homemade cider and "It's A Wonderful Life"), we've sat on Santa's lap and decorated the tree, we're burning candles that smell like gingerbread and holly wreaths and Nat King Cole has been singing about chestnuts roasting on open fires since Halloween. So we're ready, bring on the Christmas. I tell ya, it's my favorite ride but I am remembering why I only like it to happen once a year. I'm about ready to get off this train and walk for awhile.

What makes being this busy so worth it? I pause on what we are really celebrating. Celebrate the birth of a perfect baby in a humble stable under a starry night with nothing but parents that loved Him and a hopeful future. Celebrate Jesus Christ. It is so worth it.

Have yourself a merry little Christmas now.

Just keeping it real yo.

This is us unplugged and unscripted. Taking our family's picture is no piece of cake. I'm an obnoxious nit-picky perfectionist, my kids run away, make every face but a smile and heaven forbid they should hold still. Olen just goes along with it all because he knows how much it means to me. We're the kind of family that a photographer should charge double for. That's why I need to say a huge thanks to my favorite photographer at Life Happens Studios for waiting on finishing touches, hiding muffin tops, letting us be us and for his uncontrollable awesomeness. Our New Year's cards will rock.

Flashback Friday: A good catch

The year was 2000. It was Christmas time and I had just started dating a guy eight years older than me and I was quickly falling in love. I wanted to get him something for Christmas, but knowing what to get was tricky so I decided I would only get him something if he got me something first.

Then one evening he delivers two oddly wrapped and heavily taped presents with the strict direction that they are not to be opened till Christmas morning. Yikes. What if it is something really embarrassing and I open it right in front of my dad? Or worse, what if it is something really serious and all I got him was like a tie or something? So because I promised I wouldn't open the presents till Christmas morning I made my mom and dad peek inside so they could guide me on what to get him in return.

My parents took my gifts into their room and shut the door. I put my ear to the door and heard giggling. Then they emerged holding the re-wrapped gifts and I don't think I've ever seen my dad's face more full of smile and my mom just said something like, "It's really sweet, but not too serious." Okay...

Well, I knew he liked to fish and do stuff outdoorsie so I went to the only outdoorsie store I knew of in town. They sold stuff I didn't know how to use or what it would be used for so I just walked around educating myself on what outdoorsie stores sell, but not really learning anything at all. After I found myself a new fleece sweater I saw just what my new outdoor-loving-sweet-but-not-serious boyfriend would love (or I hoped he would love). A fish pillow wrapped in cellophane. Thoughtful because I was trying to show I knew his likes and hobbies, and unserious because it's a giant fish pillow wrapped in cellophane.

I delivered my oddly wrapped and heavily taped present to his house and made him promise not to open it till Christmas morning. Mostly because I didn't want him to open it in front of me and watch me blush and because I didn't even know what type of fish my pillow was. It's a trout, by the way. I know all my fish pillow species now.

See? He did love it. He said it was his best catch of the year. (He was the good catch...but I didn't say that part yet.) He had one of his room mates take this picture after he opened my gift which was probably five minutes after I drove away.

So do you wanna know what I got? The first gift was a tiny tackle box (my first and only) along with a collapsible fishing pole and a coupon "Good For Five Free Fishing Lessons With A Semi-Pro Bass Angler" (I only cashed in on two of those lessons before I married that Semi-Pro Angler). The second gift was a homemade corn-filled heating bag he purchased from a friend's mom who specialized in grain filled heating bags. I think this last gift was what made my mom and dad giggle because I burst into complete laughter. But you know what, we still use that heating bag (that London calls the "popcorn pillow") all the time and I tell Porter how his daddy gave me that popcorn pillow on our very first Christmas together. Then I tell him it's probably not the best idea to give a girl a heating pad for Christmas unless you're pretty sure she likes you a whole lot.

Good Word Wednesday: A Blessing

The first of many dresses she'll wear only once.

Molly's Rule of Life #36

Learn to say, "This sounded like a better idea in my head." It will come in handy when you get into sticky situations.

Flashback Friday: Believe

“Mom, is Santa real?”

Crap. Think. Think. No, don’t look up! Think faster. Okay, look up but don’t look at him. Starting to sweat now. Who’s he been talking to? C’mon mommy brain, work it!

“Phssh…of course he is. You know that.”

“It’s not just you and dad then?”

“Nope.”

“Pinky promise?”

Crap again. The pinky promise? He means business. It’s not binding if you don’t actually involve the pinkies I think.

“Pinky promise. Hey I’ve got your clothes folded on your bed, can you go put them away and bring me your homework to check?”

Dodged that bullet. So I thought.

I don’t remember when I started questioning the existence of Santa Claus. I don’t remember ever getting any straight up “The Truth Behind Santa” kind of talk either. I think just one Christmas it all clicked and I understood who was filling up my stocking when I had finally fallen asleep on Christmas Eve. I do remember feeling a little less excited to go downstairs and see what had appeared over night and a part of me wished I never knew who actually left it.

As a parent I didn’t expect to run into this question for a couple more years so it caught me unprepared. After my phony pinky promising I felt guilty. I take my pinky promises pretty seriously and flat out telling Porter that Olen and I have nothing to do with Santa was really bugging me. Plus I’ve always hated that Santa gets all the glory Christmas morning when it was really me who had to nibble those carrots left for the reindeer. Have you ever eaten carrots at one in the morning? It deserves a little glory I think. In the end I decided if making the magic of Santa last one more year meant telling a little white lie I would let it slide, unless Porter asked again. Of course he asked again.

“So for reals, you and dad aren’t the Santa?”

This time it was more of a statement than a question. I could tell my half-hearted pinky promise hadn’t convinced him either. Breathe. Think. Breathe. Here we go.

“Do you want to believe in Santa Claus, sugar?”

“Well yeah.”

“Then it doesn’t matter. If you believe in him, he will always come. He will always be real.”

“Oh...okay.”

One more thing.

“Hey Porter, wait come back.”

“Yeah?”

“I still believe in Santa, too.”

“Thanks mom.”

“You’re welcome.”

In that moment, I felt a little glorious.

Good Word Wednesday: Tis' the season

Have I mentioned before that I went to the best high school? Maybe I just love it because it's probably the only place that would let an ugly duckling nerd of a girl become student body president and prom queen. It's a small pond where the students can be big fish. Man, I love it. (The Beach Boys' song "Be true to your school" just started playing in my head". Weird.) My little high school has provided four out of five of my brother and sister's spouses and a true American idol.

Last night Olen and I attended a benefit concert featuring the gracious Brooke White from American Idol fame. But I just know her as the sweet, beautiful girl that lost her voice the day before opening night of the high school musical where she had the lead role. (We all prayed for her voice to come back and made signs that said "Don't talk to Brooke!" that year.) She hasn't changed at all. She's quirky and sincere and lovely still.

Brooke hosted the concert to benefit the adoption fund of another high school alumni and good friends of ours. A great cause, fabulous music and seeing friendly faces from the past? I'm so there.

Brooke singing to one of her biggest fans.

Molly class of 1999, Katie class of 2000 and Olivia class of 2015