The Nutcrackinest...

Last night I took my baby girl to the Nutcracker for the first time. And so it goes...

First and foremost, my stance is that cuss words are not in fact cuss words, if they are in the Bible. Which all of the fun ones are. With that said....

There may or may not have been cussing (silent/whispered or hollered) as we drove 10 miles in 45 minutes. I can also not confirm that there were any said running down 4 flights of Portland parking stairs (why do they stink people?) And I am not going to even pretend that I didn't cuss when I sandwiched the evening with losing my wallet. TWICE! I know, I know mom, I need to grow up and carry a purse. But then I need a sewing kit, first aid supplies, hair brush and every flavor of Trident. It's just too much sometimes, ya know!

Yes people, she truly is that fabulous!

It was Kylene's idea to go all out Prom style to the show. In Kiera's words, "I feel like Gale to your Oprah." That is how truly hip she looked! People stopped to stare, comment, and I am pretty sure someone asked to take a picture with her. Uh-huh.

In the words of Dolly Parton, "Too Cha-cha for words!"

It was a moment I will never forget. I adore my girl. And for record, I will totally admit the fact that the Snowflake dance was my favorite and I did in fact cry.

It was my birthday present. And how many people get moments, honest-to-goodness, take-your-breath-away, never forget it in a million years moments as gifts? I count myself truly blessed. That moment of watching Bella watch art and fall in love was perfect.

And the joke of the evening.....If the girl dancers are Ballerina's...what are the boy dancers? My stylish diva of a doll of a friend aptly named them...Balle-rhinos! And that's all we will say about that.

The three angels at Starbucks after a Hot Chocolate. .....AND THEN I lost my wallet. Which for the record turned up at 11:45, after a missionary discussion and a 30 minute conversation with a member of the church (vegan chef/DJ extraordinaire mind you) calling me from out of state to say that her friend in Beaverton had found it and was calling her to inquire what the heck a temple reccomend was. She is a woman that I have never met but that I was meant too know. Can we say serendipitous (three times fast)!

Peter Pan....

Peter Pan has a myriad of meaning in my heart. It was my favorite movie going up (along with Mary Poppins, the Gnomemobile, and Seven Brides, but anyway.) Neverland is one of my favorite movies now. My friend who lost her child has turned for inspiration to the little imp of a child, Peter. So yesterday, when Bella could not calm down I did the only thing I know of that makes her calm, read to her from Peter Pan (by J.M. Barrie) while Harry played on the ground. There are so many tidbits in this book, can I just indulge myself and write some of my favorites so far:

"Mrs. Darling first heard of Peter when she was tidying up her children's minds. It is the nightly custom of every good mother after her children are asleep to rummage in their minds and put things straight for the next morning, repacking into their proper places the many articles that have wandered during the day."

"Indeed a million golden arrows were pointing out the island to the children, all directed by their friend the sun, who wanted them to be sure of their way before leaving them for the night."

"Years rolled on again, and Wendy had a daughter. This ought not to be written in ink but in a golden splash."

It sufficeth to say that the adventures of the book satisfy my kids curiosity and imagination. I however try not to cry at every page for the innocent insights into the center of motherhood and childhood. Double meanings everywhere and so beautifully written.

It is this feeling of reading to the kids by the tree to quiet their spirits (when they actually listen), the provides my profoundest sense of joy. I have a friend who described my children and all children "as the little lights on the planet." Isn't that the truth?

Temple Square...

I am the opposite of a Scrooge. What would that be? I LOVE CHRISTMAS!!

Here's what we're doing:

Grandma and the kids

The Cousins

Cousin Ian and Bella

Sure...

The first time my husband said the word "Sure" it was in response to some mundane question like "Would you mind doing the kitchen?" or "Can I borrow a kidney?" And my initial, and now patented response is "What does 'sure' mean?"

Does sure mean "eh, I like my kidneys but hey you're my eternal companion so whatev!" Does sure mean I will do the dishes.....eventually and in my own way? Does sure mean in one minute, which is another ambigous frustration. Would that be one football minute, one basketball minute or one Gardner minute. The possiblities with such a vague vocabluary are endless! AND IRRITATING! I echo the sentiments of the MOODY BLUES... "SAY WHAT YOU MEAN."

Apparnently, this generic response is hereditary. Today I asked Harrison if he wanted to play the memory game. His response......"Sure." (enthusiastic, by nonetheless..."sure"). I paused. Then laughed....for heaven's sakes!

Licks and love....

Harry: "Mommy" holding my cheeks firmly so that I am one millimeter away from his face and the full effect of what he is about to say comes through. "Mommy, I love you." And then he precedes to LICK my whole face over my nose and everything.

Do we see a pattern forming here? YIKES!