Some Christmas spirit

This gal sure blew us away in our Christmas concert at school. Love the end.

The Christmas parade

Our congregation at church participated in the Harrisonburg Christmas Parade. The theme was "Snowmen at Night" or something, but we did the Nativity instead. Gotta remember the real meaning of the season, right?

Clara wanted to participate. We weren't sure whether she really would when it came right down to it, but she did so well.

 Our float was rather humble, but so was the stable in Bethlehem, right?

 It was a cooollld night, but fortunately Clara was warm in her sheep costume layered over a coat, sweater, and turtleneck. She was quite the trooper. All the kids were, actually. They sung Christmas songs while they were waiting and waved to the parade watchers.

I also had to include this random picture of Michael with the Chick-fil-A cow and his float. I have to mention that Clara is both in love with and freaked out by these big dressed-up people. They scared me when I was a kid and I had (have) no desire to hug or give one a high-five. Clara gets so excited by them, though. Pretty funny.

It was a fun experience--I had never been in a parade before, and I was amazed at how many people were out there in such weather. Good times.

A Saturday morning

With the busyness that we've been experiencing 'round these parts lately, we're just grateful that it doesn't take too much to make this girl happy. Who needs Christmas presents when you have a half-sleeping dad to climb on in the middle of the hallway?

Clever

Last Friday morning, Clara came in wearing all black. "Wow!" I said. "You're all dressed in black!"

"Yeah," she responded. "It's Black Friday."

I couldn't laugh out loud or her feelings would have been hurt, but this just put a smile on my face the rest of the day.

{I don't know if I could possibly have gotten a worse picture, but my camera died right after this shot, so I decided to post it anyway.}

Thankful for a family visit

We were treated to a visit from Michael's sister, Tabitha, her husband, Tommy, and their two adorable kids, Adam and Hannah, for Thanksgiving last week.

I remembered to snag a quick pic of our "gratitude door" (each leaf had something we were grateful for).

 Thanksgiving morning we played at a fun older park, but the kids--and adults--were all moving around so much I got only a few poor pictures. Adam and Hyrum looked like they were having a blast climbing through all the cubby holes.

 Clara really took to Tommy this trip, which was very sweet. It was not so sweet when she decided to play in freezing cold puddles.

 Waiting for dinner. I think Hannah's pigtails are just about the cutest thing ever.

 The spread. Every time I learn something new. This year, I learned that we will be grilling steaks next year.

 What a handsome family!

 The curse of having an open kitchen/dining area: dishes in the background.

You just can't help but smile when looking at this kid. Boy. Guy. Young man. Whatever.

Birthday boy

My husband turned 33 last week. He still looks ten years younger than that, which I think is a compliment to the good care he has taken of himself lo these many years of marriage.

I forgot to get a picture of all of us together, but I did manage a couple of the candle-blowing.

 I decided to alter a recipe and make an ice cream trifle. It worked pretty well, but next time I will make it with brownies instead of chocolate cake because brownies would be chewier even when frozen.

I absolutely love Clara's face here. Classic.

Happy birthday, darling!

Reminiscing

I am currently putting stamps on our Christmas cards, and I was reminded that we used to actually have to lick each stamp. There are little things like that I don't want to forget.

Do you remember the card catalog at the library? I loved finding the cards and books and then getting them stamped by the librarian at the desk. I miss the stamping and don't like the long receipt you get instead now. I always thought it was fun to see who checked out the book before you and how long ago it was.

Remember rotary phones? They were annoying but cool at the same time. My parents had a flesh-colored one. Classic.

Apple IIe?

Printer paper with the edges you had to tear off?

And how about the wonderful sets of Encyclopedia Brittanica and World Book Encyclopedia? It was so empowering looking through my parents' encyclopedia thinking that I could learn "all there was to know" about kangaroos, or electricity, or World War II. Now with Google and the Internet, the sheer amount of information--not to mention whether it is legitimate or not--is overwhelming.

What about you? What do you remember/miss? Or don't miss?

Recent happenings

So I forget that we have actually done stuff around here until I finally upload my camera pics to the computer.

Is it bad if the quantity of photos you take influences your self-esteem?

 Clara's music teacher held a concert at Barnes and Noble one evening to showcase the songs they've been singing.

I was pretty nervous for Clara--lots of noises, lots of kids, lots of stuff going on. She did so well. She sat there quietly, shook her instrument at the right time, and sang "The Star-Spangled Banner" so sincerely with the rest of the group.

 Clara just finished a free 12-week (?) long course at James Madison University called Project Climb. The senior PE majors take a class where they have to come up with a lesson plan each week for their individual special needs child to help them work on certain skills.

Clara's mentor, Cally, was wonderful for her. She was just the type of person Clara works well with--laid-back, positive, and creative.

 It was hard to take decent pictures in the gym lighting, but they worked on hopping, kicking, throwing, dribbling a ball, and working together with other kids. It was once a week for an hour and I'm glad we took the opportunity.

 As a goodbye present, Cally gave Clara a Disney princess beauty kit. Clara was very intrigued by the press-on nails.

She wasn't thrilled and immediately took them all off.

So then I put them on instead. Apparently I have hands the size of a child's. I kept them on long enough to show Michael when he got home--of course he didn't like them (neither did I!), but I'd always secretly wanted to try those things.


Now back to working on Christmas choir preparations.

Thoughts from a Monday

1. Having to wash our shower means having a shower to wash. It also means we are clean since we use it on occasion.

2. Furniture to dust means we have places to sit and a house to put the furniture in.

3. Feeling overwhelmed about church callings means I am worthy to serve, however imperfectly.

4. Lamenting my disused singing voice means I have a voice to strengthen.

5. Stressing about church choir Christmas music means that a wonderful season is on its way.

6. First grade homework struggles means that my child is (hopefully) learning and growing.

7. An "N" for "needs improvement" for handwriting on a recent progress report means that her handwriting can be counted as such. The fact that Clara wrote the above is nothing short of wonderful and amazing, compared to where she has been. She is making a lot of progress.

(I'm hoping Clara's first sentence wasn't a statement of fact.)

Lesson learned

Clara's school put on a fundraiser a week ago. It reminded me of the "Walk-A-Thon" I did when I was in elementary school, except hers was called the "Fundrun." The premise is the same: get people to pledge money for each lap you run/walk.

I bet you know where this is going.

Since Clara is not a big runner, I asked her how many laps she thought she'd run (fifteen laps is a mile). She told me she'd do six laps, and I thought that was a reasonable goal, so we pledged three dollars a lap. (Quite honestly, I imagined her petering out after the first one. I even talked with the physical therapist at the school to see if she could walk with Clara because I was afraid she would refuse to participate at all without someone next to her.)

The parents were encouraged to come and cheer their kids on, so I dutifully arrived at the school, only to discover that they had moved the run inside the gym because of inclement weather. Picture a child with autism in a loud, echoing, gymnasium filled with one hundred first graders yelling their enthusiasm, a dude in a red cape ("Mr. Awesome" was his name), and pounding, pumping music. I watched Clara at the back, covering her ears. I was impressed that she was managing her discomfort--she didn't remove herself from the situation, but instead stayed and handled it.

The countdown is done and the kids start running. They circle around and around the gym, running through a red inflatable tunnel, and then stopping to get their t-shirts marked off for each lap. She keeps going. And going. And going. She walks sometimes, but she doesn't quit.

Lap 13 or so was a "parent lap," and you can bet I made sure that we took our sweet time getting her t-shirt marked off, letting her give a high-five to Mr. Awesome, etc. Nice and slow.

At lap 18, another teacher (who was trying to be helpful but wasn't at all) freaked her out by grabbing her wrist to direct her somewhere. She started crying, and we walked off the track to take a breather. After getting a drink at the water fountain and resting, she was done.

Eighteen laps. Sure, most of the kids did the maximum (36 laps), but the fact that she did so many was, well, awesome. Her PE teacher, Mrs. Trick, was amazed. Another teacher told me that Clara had stopped to help someone who had fallen which almost made me cry.

Clara was so proud of that t-shirt with the eighteen marks on the back. And even though I had to laugh at my naivete, fifty-one dollars was totally worth seeing my child run her heart out and feel proud of her effort.


Next time, though, I'm sticking with a flat donation.

Halloween: a limerick

There once was a girl on Halloween
Trick-or-treating she had never been
With the weather so cold
And the goodies untold
A happy night was foreseen.

So out in the night the girl went
Her ladybug skirt like a tent
Smiling with perfect grace
At each homeowner's face
With lots of candy home she was sent.

Her mom ate the chocolate with ease
While the child was strangely appeased
With Nerds and with Skittles
(So annoyingly little)
Overall, a night worth the bee's knees.

A little piece of heaven

Since we believe that family relationships perpetuate beyond the grave, we think it's pretty important to strengthen those relationships.

For our marriage, that means a yearly getaway.

We spent a night at Fort Lewis Lodge, a charming 3200-acre property dating back to the 1700s. We were in the middle of nowhere, which was fine by us. (Of course, the fact that we didn't have cell phone coverage made me a bit nervous since Hyrum and Clara were hanging out by themselves at home. We came home to a happy girl and a vacuumed house. I shouldn't have worried.)

Besides the beautiful scenery (and the company), we especially enjoyed the amazing breakfasts and dinners at the lodge, cooked from scratch by the owner and his wife for the forty or so guests each day. 

 

It is located close to Warm Springs, VA, home to the Jefferson Pools (Thomas Jefferson would come to bathe in these). You probably can't see the steam rising from the stream, but it was very warm. We contemplated paying the $17 to soak in the pools ourselves but then decided to postpone that for another trip.

Since we didn't check in to our room until 3:00pm, we enjoyed a very leisurely drive through the Alleghenies, stopping to take pictures and admire the colors.

We also felt no shame in taking pictures of a couple of houses that we really liked. We've got to keep adding to that "idea" book, right?

"What are you looking at? The grass really is greener over here, okay?"

 The drive in to breakfast at the lodge the next morning: snow!

We stayed at the Riverside House, which is still on the lodge property but a mile or two down the road.

A birds-eye view of the lodge.

When you see a telephone booth in the middle of a teeny town in the middle of nowhere, you get the urge to try it out.

 "Can you believe this dinosaur still works?!"

I'm all alone.

Oh wait! There's my favorite person in the world. Turns out I'm never alone.

Getaways remind you of that.

A new definition of morality?

{Caveat lector}

Picture this. Two families are sitting around their dinner table eating lasagna hot from the oven. There is some warm bread on the table and a green salad. The families are both enjoying themselves, talking, sharing, and passing food around.

 (image from Pioneer Woman)

Then you learn that Family A has made their lasagna from local grass-fed beef. The pasta is whole wheat and organic and the bread is homemade. The salad was purchased from the farmer's market (since their own garden is now out of season).

Family B's lasagna is from the freezer section. It is full of sodium. The pasta is white and the bread contains partially hydrogenated oils, aka trans fats. The salad is from a bag and is mostly iceburg lettuce.

Which family is more righteous?

I have been struck lately by the moral tone that our eating choices--as well as our environmental choices--have adopted. I have read books about eating well, eating local, going "green," etc. I even sometimes use reusable bags at the grocery store. Oh, and I take my recycling to the recycling center since we don't have curbside pickup. I try to use whole grain pasta and I try to eat and serve vegetables.

(Google pic)

Whoopdeedoo.

In our time, our daily mundane choices--what we eat, buy, wear, and cook their food in--have suddenly taken on the supposed importance of personal salvation.

I can't speak for God (obviously), but it is fairly obvious that He does want us to take care of the beautiful bodies He's given us. Both the scriptures and modern-day revelation has taught us this. I know He wants our vessels to be strong enough, healthy enough, and free from harmful substances so He can use us as instruments in His hands to do His work.

But does He care whether our lasagna was homemade or store-bought? Does He judge us if we eat ice cream without entirely natural ingredients? Or if we eat it at all? Does He care if we use Lysol or if we make our own disinfectant with tea tree oil and Borax? Are we less worthy if we don't use cloth diapers?

{NOT THAT any of those things are bad in and of themselves, mind you.}

I can't say for sure. But what I do know is that what He is most concerned about is the state of our hearts.

If Satan can use a trendy fixation on eating well and saving the environment (both good things in and of themselves) to make us judge each other, think we are better than others, and spend more time, thought, and energy on those things than on, say, being with and serving others, studying the scriptures, praying, and pondering, then he is winning.

Food and the environment are like money and the Internet. They are amoral, meaning they contain no inherent righteousness or wickedness. However, our actions, thoughts, and words--all of which are influenced by amoral things--are a matter of eternal significance.

Nowadays, it seems that eating processed food and buying styrofoam cups is a true, honest-to-goodness sin. But having sex before marriage? Having sex outside of marriage? Looking at a pornographic website? "Nah. You should be free to express yourself and do whatever makes you happy."

Whatever that is supposed to mean.

In fact, just this week I was browsing through a copy of one of those body and soul "wellness" magazines at the gym. One of the readers had written in, giving advice to a younger version of herself about what she should do when she grew up. It said to this effect: "There is no right or wrong; only right and left."

Talk about insidious.

I am reminded of Jesus' teachings in Matthew 15:11 "Not that which goeth into the mouth defileth a man; but that which cometh out of the mouth, this defileth a man."

I imagine the Lord is pleased and grateful when we try to take care of His earth and of our bodies, but I think it's helpful to remember that the main goal of this life is to prepare to meet Him again, and I don't think it matters whether our last mortal meal was a bag of Doritos or a salad of Swiss Chard. But I'm pretty sure it does matter--in fact, it truly is a life or death matter--what is coming out of our mouths, how we are acting toward others, how we are using the blessings He's given us, and the condition of our hearts.

If I die of a heart attack because I recklessly push aside my doctor's advice to eat better, that would be sad.

 (image)

But if I die of a heart attack having done my best to follow Ezekiel's words . . .

And I will give them one heart, and I will put a new spirit within you; and I will take the stony heart out of their flesh, and will give them an heart of flesh:

. . . then hopefully my heart will be in pretty good shape.


Just food for thought, anyway. What are your thoughts?

Family photo op attempts

Family pictures.

The drama.

The irony is that it is so important to us to make our family pictures look happy and beautiful, but the stress and anxiety that goes into them seems to make everyone on edge.

We were going to spend a pretty penny and have someone take some pics of us. Fortunately, we wisely forewent that expense and had my dad take some of us while they were here.

We haven't had any done since Clara was four, and the wall above our couch is begging to be filled. I hadn't realized how much Clara had changed since the picture above was taken in 2009.

 It's pretty incredible that I gave birth to a teenager only a few short months ago.

I can't believe I've been married to this hunk over nine years now. (Wait a minute. Didn't I just give birth to a sixteen-year-old?)

 Hyrum has gained twenty pounds since he's been here and he's working on five more before Christmas. He is nearly as tall as Michael (6 ft 2) and is not thrilled (but doesn't really care that much) with the pic we're sending out for Christmas (not shown) where he looks significantly shorter than Michael. But we had to take the best one. No family photo is perfect.

They might be sixteen years apart, but you know that two guys are brothers when they start throwing the fake punches. 

A day with grandparents

While my parents were here, they kindly watched Clara for a day (Hyrum had a basketball tournament) while Michael and I went to the Washington D.C. LDS temple. It was wonderful to be in the temple, and Clara sure had a blast with Nana and Bapa. First stop of the day was the Harrisonburg Children's Museum, then the library, then the park, and an ice cream cone on the way home. A very blessed girl.

 The stage and makeup area is one of Clara's favorite places. Getting to apply your own makeup? Sweet.

 I think it is hilarious that my parents dressed up. Not only did they dress up, but they apparently asked a stranger to take a picture of them on stage.

 I love that they would do that.

 Quite frankly I am too insecure to get dressed up and act on the stage of a children's museum.

But at least I know my limitations.

 Clara loves squeezing glue. It hits some sort of sensory button for her.

 Bapa seemed to enjoy making his own creation as well.

 Inside the play house, complete with a dog (and dog bed), washer and dryer, and of course child-height counters with play food.

Driving the ambulance. Note my dad in the background.

My parents just put their application papers in to leave for two years on a mission for our church. They have been planning on this for a long time, and I am so proud of them. They won't know for a while where they'll be headed, but already our family has been blessed by their faith and determination to serve the Lord. I'll keep you posted!