Prestissimo Con Fuoco

It's ironic that the title of my last post was "Slowing Down the Tempo," because the first week of December is the most Prestisssimo Con Fuoco of any week of the year.  In the past eight days, we have had five recitals/performances, four parties, a basketball game, book club, Beethoven's Ninth, a Christmas devotional and a partridge in a pear tree.  On Friday, Scott and I combined drove over 300 miles, taking kids to lessons, performance and parties.  That's not crazy at all, right?

That said, all of this is what makes the Christmas season special, and I love it, so I don't want it to be hectic.  That takes a lot of planning, frequent deep breaths and just getting lucky with traffic.  The holidays really are a beautiful time of the year, but you don't feel it and see it unless you're out there, taking in the music, catching up with friends, admiring the lights and recognizing all the good things your neighbors and friends are doing for each other.  That's the true meaning for me, seeing God's love in action.

 Thoughtful Ruby got everything set up for me for book club while I was at a work dinner with Scott, gobbling up piles of mizythra cheese from the Old Spaghetti Factory.  I arrived at book club not too late.  With so many helpers, everything really can run like clockwork, and I snuggled in to discuss the book I Am Malala with my friends late into the night.

 This little elf!

 Freestone performed at the Festival of Trees with David County Ballroom. Here's half of his tango.

 My ballroom veteran friend Jacy did Freestone's hair and makeup and he looked extremely handsome!  Ptolemy, Tziporah and I did some kid crafts while we waited for Freestone's group to take the stage.  Tziporah was devastated when she saw the performers.  She turned to me, alarmed, and said, "Mom, you didn't even bwing any of my ballet clothes!"  She desperately wanted to be on that stage.  Ptolemy, not so much.  He didn't even want to pose as an elf.  With so many fun things to do, we didn't even look at any of the trees!  We had to go home and take Golda and some food and gifts to a Dance Company party in Farmington.  We also dropped Araceli off at the party so Scott could pick her up there for the symphony when he brought Ruby from guitar to the party.  (Yep, this was the 300-mile day.  It ran so smoothly.)

Scott and Araceli had a date night hearing Scott's favorite symphony, Beethoven's 9th.  Whenver we go to the symphony we take some kids, because they can get two student tickets each, for $10 apiece.  The Beethoven would have cost $63 per ticket.  So I stayed home and ate ALL of the chocolate Borther Steed brought to our family, and Araceli was introduced to Ode to Joy.  I tell you, with a whole box of See's chocolate, a book and a bunch of sleeping kids, I was singing my own Ode to Joy!

 Xanthe and Esmae decorated ornaments at Bowman's while I got some food for a party.  How lucky!

 Ruby serenaded Scott while he relaxed between recitals Saturday.  Can't have too much Christmas music!  Right Scott??

 Freestone played Humoresque by Dvorak,
 Xanthe played a Bartok Hungarian Folk Song 
and our 13-year-old played...Lightly Row.  ( forgot to record until the end)  She was embarrassed by playing such a baby song, but keep in mind, this is three lessons in.  It was perfect, fortunately.  My friend Julie Laub, whose daughters are accomplished pianists, gave Araceli a hug afterwards and told her how proud she was that Ari would have the courage to play such an easy piece, when she is already so advanced on cello.  Julie, as usual, said the perfect things, and with such kindness.

Freestone worked hard to memorize Humoresque, but he ended up taking the wrong ending a couple of times.  I said to him, "I loved how you just kept on going when you took the wrong ending.  Nobody would have even known!"

He said, "I did?!"

Including you, evidently, Freestone.  So he's not cool under pressure.  He's just oblivious.  That's just as good.  He played very well, and so did Xanthe.  Janet usually lets Xanthe go first so she doesn't get nervous.  She has come such a long way, and hardly even worries about getting up there.  Piano is so good for her.

 Saturday night, Golda had a date to see the lights at Temple Square.  Scott and Tziporah took Ruby to her guitar recital, I went to my Shelter party, and that left the rest of the kids to glom onto Josh and Emily's family at the ward party.  Freestone even won some centerpieces!

 After Tziporah's nap in the car, she arrived at the recital ready to play.  She showed the program to Ruby and said, "This has my name on it.  I'll play the violin!"  This poor child has GOT to pick up some skills!

Roy always has a nice reception afterwards, with food and wine.  Tziporah wanted some of the "apple juice," and when Scott told her it was wine, she kept saying, "I want some wine!  Give me some wine!"  Give ME some wine!  I'm going to need it, parenting this firestorm!  

 Despite every effort to be zen about the holidays, I could be found wrapping my somewhat lame friend gifts in the parking lot of Family Dollar, ten minutes after the party started.  Well, if I try to do it all, it's too much.  So sometimes, you just do the best you can.  You hand out Toblerones surrounded by straws and say to your friends (because you didn't have time to make cute tags), "Chocolate Doesn't Suck."  It's true.  What can I say?  The party, with a dozen of my high school friends, was 100% delightful.

 Sunday night, First Presidency Devotional.  So inspiring.  I came home wanting to serve more, lift more, help more and be a better friend, wife and mother.  But then I found some chocolate and crawled into bed instead.  Hey, there's always tomorrow to improve myself, right?

 These kids are most of our social life.  They are fun, they are important, they are our life and our future.  They are the people who will be there for us, so Scott and I want to be the people who are there for them.

At night when the twinkle lights are glowing, I sit back and bask in the feeling of a job well done, reflecting on the things we enjoyed that day, ruminating over the day's sweet inspirations.  I look at our elf, still slumbering.  He is too old and sleepy for pranks.  He once lived in Hollywood with a movie star named Burt Lancaster, my great-uncle's boss.  Now he's here, reminding me with his floppy limbs and perennially closed eyes, to slow it down, to take it all in, to imagine and remember...the magic of Christmas.