Christmas Day 2012

 Before

 After

 Mom might look a little peeved.  It was 5:22 AM!  You don't wake up a 3-year-old at 5 in the morning, RUBY!  But hey, it's Christmas.

 Closer...

 Closer...

 Seeing what Santa brought

 Circe recovering from the 5:22 wake up call.

 Walking to Coco and Bill's

 breakfast

 Tizzy in her new jammies from Grandma and Grandpa.  She matches Jersey!

 Look at the shadow of my nose!  Holy Cyrano de Bergerac!

 Who me?

 Grandma and Grandpa came to see what Santa brought.

What??  Christmas is over??  I don't wanna go night-night!  Good night, sweet angel.

Merry Little Christmas, Now

My dad planned a little outing today and invited anyone who wanted to go to join him.  Mom, Trajan and I jumped on the holiday bandwagon, while Scott stayed home with recovering kids.  (The post-Christmas plague hit our house, but we're on the mend, thanks to Pepto Nog.  I'M JUST KIDDING!)  Josh and Emily had prior plans, so it was a small group. 

It wasn't until we were standing in the lobby of the Joseph Smith Building that I realized that SEVENTEEN years ago tonight, in that very same spot, was our wedding dinner.  It was the most beautiful setting, the Nauvoo Room, with all of our favorite people and a delicious meal.  What a magical night!  I know it was a sacrifice for both sets of parents to fund a wedding, and especially at Christmastime.  But, parents, you have to admit, it was a pretty good investment...unless you hate grandchildren.  (And I have ample proof that you don't!)  Bruce and Marlene, thank you so much for giving us such a wonderful dinner.  And Mom and Dad, our wedding couldn't have been one bit more perfect.

I bet our parents just about died when we told them we wanted to get married in December.  There is already a holiday in December!  A big one that takes a lot of preparation!  I know we added loads more to everyone's to-do list that year, but I only remember the romance and excitement of being engaged to Scott at what is arguably the most romantic time of year.  To this day, many of the holiday Christmas tunes bring back those magical feelings.  Especially Winter Wonderland  "Later on, we'll conspire...as we dream by the fire...to face unafraid the plans that we've made, walking in a winter wonderland."

Unafraid?  We would have been suicidally terrified had we known what was in store for us!  Ever since then every step of the way has been filled with wonder, winter and summer, but I'm sure we could not have wrapped our heads around the notion of seven kids back then.  In fact, we have footage of me in my wedding dress looking extremely bored and somewhat annoyed when Scott took a moment to toss a little cousin in the air.  Hello!  It was my day!  I was the bride!  A little less focus on the slobbery munchkin, please!

Oh, how the mighty have fallen.  Since then, hardly a day has gone by that someone hasn't slobbered on me, or worse.  Here I am, right in the same spot where I was thinking 17 years ago, "OK, enough with the kid."  Now I'm thinking, "I wish Scott were here...I hope Golda is safe in California...is she having fun?...is she remembering her flute?...how is Ruby's knee?...is she too tired babysitting Es and Abe?...is her room warm enough?...is Ari feeling better?...did she get enough attention on Christmas?...did I ever get her new tights?......how can I make Freestone's room more comfy?...I've got to cut his hair!...did he charge his Kindle?...should I read more with Xanthe?...should she keep taking piano?...we have to have her eye checked again, but she's scared...should I worry about Ptolemy's naughtiness?...is he too skinny?...Did Tziporah go to sleep?...did she have her blanket?..."

Like Erma Bombeck said, having children is like having your heart walking around outside of your body.  Ain't that the truth!

And here are the two people who haven't been able to get rid of me for the past 41 years.  Just in the past month, I've broken their vacuum twice, sent sick kids to their house and cost them a small fortune in Christmas gifts for my large brood of offspring.  Well, parents, all I can say is, In the famous words of Abe, "You 'tarted it!"

Anyone recognize this iconic downtown restaurant?  Lamb's.  I got a job there when I moved back from Indiana, because my mom went to high school with the owner, John Speros.  I loved that job.  I bet my parents were thrilled, after putting me through four years of college, that I got a waitress job...because mom knew the guy.  Sad!  But I loved it, especially when Sarah Scheuller and some of my violin making school friends worked there with me.  Lamb's has changed ownership, but it still retains its charm.  Dinner was delicious, right down to the trademark mincemeat pie with butter rum sauce.  Thanks, Dad!

I have been reading my grandparents' journals, compiled by my Uncle Paul and given to everyone for Christmas, so I was able to be really annoying as we walked around downtown.  "This is where Opa's paper route was.  Look, you can see the Capitol Building where Opa and Nana met.  Up the hill is the McCune Mansion where Nana took violin, piano, voice and dancing.  Opa's mom cleaned office buildings around here."  I can really get on your nerves, even when I'm not clogging your vacuum with mismatched socks.

After Christmas really is the time to do the lights.  I thought it would be anticlimactic, but it was just peaceful.  And fun to experience it with Trajan and my parents.  In a way, it was fitting to commemorate the anniversary of the eve of my wedding without Scott.  It reminded me of how much I used to anticipate the time when we would be married and not have to say goodnight and part ways...ever.  Seventeen years into that delicious dream, I still love it.

Through the years, we all will be together, if the fates allow.
Hang a shining star upon the highest bough
And have yourself a merry little Christmas, now.

Now and always.

Going Off the Egg Nog Cliff

We have a serious crisis here.  It's almost January, the dreaded time that the stores stop selling egg nog.  I don't know what we're going to do.  Egg nog is a way of life here.  We never drink it straight, we always mix it with something.  I think that started when I was a kid, because it was so expensive and also so rich, that we mixed it with milk.

Now we have:

Coke Nog (It is DELICIOUS!!!!!!!!!)

Pink Nog (with Pomegranate Sprite)

Orange Nog (with orange juice)

Sprite Nog

Milk Nog

and Ari's new invention, Snow Nog.  You pour egg nog over a big glass of fresh snow.  (Don't talk to me about germs.  The pioneers survived, didn't they?  Oh wait...a lot of them died.  All of them, really, at this point.)

Anyway, I just don't know what we're going to do when we can't enjoy our favorite beverages anymore.  I guess January is for austerity.  I certainly wouldn't be able to lose all this holiday weight if I kept pounding back the Coke Nog.

Dart Pride

Last week, Davis High School promised the students that if they raised over $10,000 for Sub for Santa, they would get out of school early the Friday of Winter Break.  More specifically, they would use the assembly schedule and show a movie in the auditorium at the end of the day, which presumably nobody would go to.  The school easily cleared the $10,000 goal (yes!) and Golda made plans with her friends for kicking off Winter Break at noon Friday. 

Thursday night there was a snafu with the school district and it was determined that the school couldn't show a movie.  Unless an assembly could be put together in 18 hours, the school would have to renege on its promise and the students wouldn't get out early, despite reaching their goal.  It was upsetting because the money had been raised in good faith, with a promise attached.

Enter the Davis High Band.  Their winter concert was Thursday night, and the principal came to Mr. Hendricks on bended knee asking if the bands would play their concert again on Friday so that the school could keep its promise to the studentbody and still comply by district rules, which called for some sort of assembly that would run until the regular bell.  During the Thursday night concert, Mr. Hendricks announced to the audience that the principal had asked for this favor.  He said, "I told the principal the of course the bands would be willing to do that.  BUT!  I won't make you dress up.  Be here right after school tomorrow and we wil play our concert again." 

These are kids who have been doing five-mile marches in the snow, practicing after school, and getting ready to to to California.  (Check this out.)  I didn't hear any complaining.

I took Ptolemy and Tziporah to the concert the next day.  Every single band member was there except one, who had a prior commitment with his family at the homeless shelter.  Seriously, the Davis High Band is unreal.  Principal Burton stood up in front of the audience and got all choked up.  He thanked the band kids for "taking one for the team."  I wish I could say that the whole studentbody was there in support of the band, but the auditorium was empty.  Principal Burton said, "You kids are used to playing in front of hundreds of people.  Today you're playing in front of perhaps 25 or 30.  But next week, you will be playing in front of six million people."  There was hardly a dry eye in the auditorium, since the principal and I were both crying and we were the only people there besides the band kids, who were probably crying because their winter break was on hold.  But these kids wouldn't grumble.

 Out Golda's window

 This morning, 5:10.  Our next-door neighbor has plowed our driveway.  Amazing!  Thank you, Steve.

 Can you see Golda?

 This is ten minutes before the kids' call time.  The band operates on time.

 Nervous energy in the band room.  I forgot to take a picture of the band motto on the wall.  One sentence reads, "We believe in synergy.  We are more than the sum of our parts."  And their parts are pretty impressive.  the band was asked by the Rose Parade people to compile a bio of the band, including things like how many 4.0 students there are, how many Eagle Scouts, how many honors students, how many service hours a week.  When Mr. Hendricks sent the stats, he received a one-word reply.  "Wow."

 On Bus 4

 Driving in front of the high school at 6:59 AM.

 ...with a police escort.

This morning, the band kids were told to be at the school at 5:30 AM.  A huge storm hit last night and the roads weren't even plowed when we ventured out in the dark.  Nevertheless, cars were streaming into the parking lot by 5:20.  Hundreds of students, chaperones and parents crowded into the band room with luggage, some dragging mounds of snow with their suitcases!  Mr. Hendricks stood on the podium, raised his arm, and silence descended over the whole room.  He spoke to the band, gave instructions and then Kaysville Mayor Steve Hiatt and the Fruit Heights mayor spoke to the band, letting them know how proud we are as a community to be represented by them at the Rose Parade.  Scott and I went home to get a few things Golda wanted, then drove down with Ptolemy to watch the eight busses depart. 

With over a foot of snow on the ground, with 400+ people in the dark and snow, dressed for California, hauling luggage and instruments, with parents' cars stuck in the snow, the caravan pulled out early.  By their scheduled departure time, 7:00, the police escort was already leading the row of busses past the high school, light flashing as our kids set off for Pasadena.

I'm sorry, this bragging is ridiculous.  But I am so honored and thrilled that Golda gets to be part of this organization and this experience.  I am so grateful she gets to hang out with these kids.  Our kids' associations with these families and their children will shape them forever.  And I am so thankful for a band director who demonstrates this stratospheric level of commitment.  You know, he doesn't get paid for this beyond a tiny bit extra.  He is changing our kids for the better, forever, and he is doing it on a teacher's salary. 

Watch the Rose Parade New Years Day.  You'll see the Saints go marching in.  When the band plays the song, we sing "Oh when the Darts go marching in," but "saints" is just as apropos.  I love these people.  (Especially Golda!!)  Have fun, Geeg!  Love you!

Right Where You Belong

Christmas Eve will find me...where the love light gleams
I'll be home for Christmas, if only in my dreams.


At Grandma and Grandpa's house Christmas Eve Day, with snow falling quietly outside and children falling noisily inside, I thought of the lyrics to this song.  The last-minute rush had gone and I exhaled.  "This is where I belong," I thought.  What a relief to have nowhere else to be and no futher responsibilities, if only for a brief time.  It was just me, Scott, the family and 25 screaming kids on a peaceful Christmas Eve.  To some, that might not sound heavenly, but I knew in my heart, nestled on Marlene's couch, that I was home.  And that's what heaven is.  So I stayed for awhile.

If you haven't found a place where you feel you're home, or if you have lost that place, go and create one.  Give yourself the responsibility and the permission to be somewhere special on certain occasions.  One example that keeps coming back to me is the Guadalupe School.  I don't know if it still exists, but I once taught English to immigrants there, every Thursday night for a year or so.  I drove with two Chinese friends who went to learn English, Yaqing and Kitty.  I always had Thursday off waitressing at Lamb's because of the tutoring commitment.  I loved my little class of Latin American abuelas at the Guadalupe School.  I looked forward to driving there with Yaqing and Kitty, newly-arrived wives of violin making students who brought delicious and exotic cooking smells to the Rainier, our apartment building. They also brought a lot of giggling to our interactions, as we tried to communicate through a language barrier as thick as the Great Wall of China.  Speaking of language barriers, one Thursday, one of my elderly Guatemalan students brought a piece of paper on which she had written the word "nastumitchu," wondering what it meant.  My group spent the better part of our session figuring out that it meant, "Nice to meet you."  Light bulbs all around, even for the teacher!

My point is, I suppose the Guadalupe School would have been just fine without me, but I felt like I was home there every Thursday.  Friends were counting on me to drive them and teach them and be a happy presence, and I was counting on them to teach me, too.  We needed each other, we laughed together.  Anyone can create a slice of home for themselves, even out of nothing, and then one day you'll look around and feel like you're right where you belong.

For this Christmas, here's where I belong...

And here...