Christmas Pics!

It's been a holly jolly week! Here comes the photographic evidence:

Elise dressed up for the nativity play at the Wilkey Family Christmas Eve Day bash.

My vantage point from the spot I staked out on the carpet at the Wilkey Family Christmas Eve Day bash. There are people behind me and people around the corner. I'm no good at estimating, but Forrest guessed there were probably 200 people there. That's what happens when you have 14 kids, 70-something grandkids, etc etc etc (and take your youngest son's best friend under your wing and call his wife and their four kids your family too). We love you Muriel!

Santa always comes to the Wilkey party, and every kid from high school age on down gets to sit on his lap. Wyatt couldn't wait to hear his name called and trucked right up there and told Santa he wanted a dragon. A scary one.

We ducked out of the Wilkey party a little early in order to make it to the Sweat family Christmas Eve dinner. Grandma Sweat decorated the tables oh-so-prettily, and we had our traditional dinner by candle light (and the macaroni and cheese!).

Wyatt dressed here as a wise (?) man for the Sweat family nativity play. I know this picture is a little blurry, but it cracks me up every time I look at it, so I decided to post it anyway.

Elise and Lauren. Beautiful angels.

The three wise men! Aren't they cute? I'm so glad Wyatt has some boy cousins to pal around with. He loves Eli and Jack.

Ethan the Inn Keeper / Donkey. As the oldest cousin, he's always willing to take on a little extra responsibility, and even make an ass of himself! (bah dum bah!)

Jonas/Joseph and Reagan/Mary. A lovely couple.

The whole gang! Jane makes such a cute sheep.

Elise and Lauren opening their Zhu Zhu Pets from Grandma Sweat. (Hey! That rhymes.) Isn't that a classic reaction shot? Zhu Zhu Pets were the must-have toy item of '09, you know. Good job, Grandma.

Wyatt. Just because he's cute.

The obligatory "everybody at the top of the stairs" photo that I insist we take every year at 7:03. The kids have to wait until 7:00 to wake us up, then it takes me at least 3 minutes to drag myself out of bed and get the camera. I remember my mom used to sit and brush her teeth while we kids stood at the top of the stairs about to explode with anticipation, so I just skip the tooth brushing and figure my kids won't mind if I have bad breath while they rip into their booty.

The aforementioned booty.

A dragon!! Santa listened!

Elise looking fetching in the sunlight with her new guitar.

The boys looking menacing in their gear with their new airsoft guns. (Sigh. I relented.)

Yes, my boys celebrated the holiday by shooting each other with tiny yellow pellets that were immediately and inevitably lost in that Christmastime blanket of white. Very festive, I say. It will be interesting to see what the back yard looks like after the snow melts, no?

Wyatt also picked up on the spirit of gunplay. My two year old is so grown up: he knows how to aim by closing one eye, and he has a plumber's crack. Where have all the years gone?

I made Forrest pose by our pantry-door-o-cards (doesn't he look pleased?). Did I mention how much I like getting Christmas cards?

On the day after Christmas, Elise and I got all gussied up to go meet Katie and Jane downtown and see The Nutcracker. (Son of a Nutcracker!!). And, yes, I DID realize after seeing this photo that I really need a hair cut and highlight touch up. I'm going in tomorrow, okay!?!? And speaking of hair, Elise's do is courtesy of her brand new Christmas crimping iron.

Elise and Jane in front of a giant nutcracker.

Elise, Jane and Katie in their seats on the front row of the "mezzanine." They were great seats--a fun vantage point to see the ballet. We had a lot of fun . . . but I do wish The Nutcracker could mix things up a little every year. Like, I don't know, you know how they do Hamlet set during WWII or Julius Caesar with all the male parts played by women? Ballet West, I'm not asking that you do anything that drastic . . . but what if, say, Mother Buffon suddenly turns all angry and sullen and the little children hiding under her skirt run out of there in a panic or something? Ratchet up the drama? Just a suggestion. But really--the ballet was lovely. And I always like spending time with my girl.

Then, on Monday night, we had the Ranquist family party. This is the one party where performances by the children are required and have been from time immemorial. (Grandma's hot shrimp soup also used to be a "must have" item at the party, too, but we missed it this year. Maybe I'll have to make a pot for next year?)

Ethan, blowing his horn.

Elise and I singing "What Child is This." (She did a great job sticking with her soprano part even when I was singing alto--all the more impressive since we threw it together in about 20 minutes!)

Jonas telling jokes. He's EXCELLENT at telling jokes.

All the menfolk playing "We Wish You a Merry Christmas" on the bells.
All the kidfolk (and a smattering of menfolk) playing "We Wish You a Merry Christmas" on the bells.

The kids all in a circle passing around their white elephant gifts. (It was done in a "musical chairs" type fashion where you stopped when the music stopped.) Wyatt spent the activity murmuring "My present? My present! Where my present go?" Luckily he was sitting in between his brothers who kept assuring him that he would, eventually, get a present. He was quite satisfied with his lifesaver book.

It's been a wonderful holiday week. We rounded things out by having Darrin and Katie and their kids over today and had such a good time. (Their kids and our kids play so well.) Alas, no pictures of this particular event . . . although I'm sure I've posted enough pictures here to keep anybody busy, right?

So Merry Christmas to all! Thank you to our family and friends for your love and example and all that you do to help make this time of year so special.

Putting Things Out in the Universe: An Update

So remember how, last post, I "put out in the universe" the idea that I might enjoy attending next year's Relief Society Christmas party rather than planning it?

The universe was listening. And the universe has issues with me.

So, yes, I got a new calling. Fifteen minutes before church started last Sunday and I was scheduled to sing with the choir I was given the calling I'm most afraid of. The calling that, whenever anyone had asked me if I was tired of my current calling, I used as an example of what that current calling was much easier than. A calling in the organization that I've publicly complained about, lo here on this very blog.

Yes. I am now the Webelos leader.

The funny thing is that after I got the phone call from the bishopbric I said to a number of people that I'd be okay with anything--ANYTHING--just as long as it wasn't Scouts. I'd even (and I feel guilty admitting this but there you have it) prayed not to get put in Scouts. So I was a little bit stunned when the call came on Sunday, and probably looked a little stunned up on the stand singing with the choir. And I was the only member of my RS presidency who was released, so it was emotional saying goodbye to them during Relief Society. I've served with them for a long time and have really grown to love them. I also felt a little bit like God was purposely trying to make my life hard by giving me exactly the opposite of what I'd asked for, and I found myself wondering what I'd done to irritate him. (Well, I'm sure the list is long, but I'd rather not go there.)

Over the last few days it's been sinking in, though, and I'm not as upset as I was on Sunday. Still have a sick feeling whenever I think about all the work ahead of me--I'm so clueless about Scouts, really I am--but I'm happy about the women I'll get to work with in the Scouting organization and glad I still get to go to Relief Society. I'm sure I'll grow to love the boys. I doubt I'll ever grow to love all the hoop-jumping and paperwork and other organizational headaches inherent in the Scouting program, though--but apparently God likes for things to be hard. Or so I've heard. And, even if I complain sometimes, I'm a worker. I'll do the work. And then maybe someday before I die, I will have worked enough that God will see fit to give me a teaching calling and I can do something I'm actually GOOD AT.

So. If anybody has any spare prayers lying around, maybe toss them my way?

Oh, and one other bit of news (and this one isn't nearly as dramatic and has nothing to do with the important things in life): I got a new phone. The Droid Eris. It was time for me to renew my phone contract and I reaaallllly wanted a smart phone. Although I had a bunch of practical reasons for wanting one (mainly dealing with keeping on top of work, email, etc etc), the truth is I just wanted one. And since Forrest is pretty non-gadgety--he's the only 30-something business guy I know who doesn't use a PDA but instead uses yellow notebooks and post-its--he just sighed and rolled his eyes and did the whole "I don't understand it but I'll support you" thing like a good husband.

And can I just say: the phone is wicked cool!!!! Love it. Maybe now I can download some Webelos apps that will completely plan all my activities for the next six months! (Who knows--maybe Scouting apps do exist. I'll have to look into it.)

But now I have to get going and finish my grades. Tonight: more wrapping. Tomorrow: festivities! Friday: The Big Day! Saturday: Seeing The Nutcracker with Elise and Katie and Jane. (Every time I say "The Nutcracker" Forrest must respond with "Son of a Nutcracker!" from Elf. You can click on the link below and hear it with your very own ears. Who knew one could link to audio clips from movies? This world!)

son of a nutcracker sound bite  Elf sound bites

So Merry Christmas to you all. Let's see if I make it through 2010 in one piece!

My Tongue Tastes Like Glue

because I've been licking all my Christmas card envelopes. I don't mind, though. I love getting Christmas cards, so I figure I'd better give some if I want to get enough in return to cover our pantry door.

Also: can you believe it's only 10 days until Christmas? This late Thanksgiving thing has got my timing all off--it'll be Christmas before we know it!

I love Christmas. Even though it's busy.

I've had a few Christmas-related happenings over the last week, the biggest being the Relief Society Christmas dinner last Tuesday. It's always a pretty big undertaking--we save up so we can go out each year with a bit of a bang--but it wasn't as stressful as some of the Christmas parties have been in the past. And, yes, this is my 4th consecutive RS Christmas party, and yes, I'm starting to run out of ideas . . . but I'm also getting better at simplifying and streamlining. Kinda. The only un-simplified element to this year's party was the gift the RS Presidency and committee gave to all 150 sisters, a wooden plaque with President Hinckley's "Be"s (they've been the theme of the first Sunday RS Presidency messages for the past two years). We originally thought they'd be pretty easy, but after cutting, painting, measuring, decoupaging, sanding, and staining ourselves into a frenzy, the committee came to the conclusion that in fact these little buggers were NOT easy--no, not at all. The bulk of the work fell on our wonderful secretary, though, who headed up the project and to whom I am eternally grateful. And they turned out really nice. See?

So even though the night was freezing cold and the parking lot was covered with snow, we had a good turn out, the food was great, and I think everybody had a good time. Who could ask for anything more? (Although, truth be told, I won't cry if next year I just get to ATTEND the Relief Society Christmas Party. I'll just put that out into the universe. :-).

We also got to go enjoy Ethan's band concert. It was really good--surprisingly good for a Junior High band. His teacher is truly excellent. I can't imagine a more difficult job than teaching a couple hundred junior high kids how to play a dozen different instruments, then whipping together a decent concert in a few months' time. But Ms. Colligan does a wonderful job and it was really fun to listen to Ethan play.

A few photos, then. Before the concert (getting warmed up):

During the concert (blow that horn!):

After the concert (hanging with his trumpet-playing compadres):

Ethan's made some good friends in band and is becoming a pretty mean trumpet player. I'm glad he's doing it.

We also went out to dinner and to see Kurt Bestor's Christmas concert with some friends last weekend. Although my taste isn't super Kurt Bestor-ish, I have a soft spot for his Airus Christmas album, which I had on tape in the early 90s and listened to quite a bit during the holidays way back when. There are some really lovely songs on that album--they remind me SO MUCH of the Thirtysomething soundtrack that I also listened to a lot in the early nineties, although it was actually Forrest's soundtrack that he bequeathed to me while he was on his mission. (Why both of us, as high school students, were so enamored of a television show about angsty yuppies twenty years older than we were is a question left for another day.)

Anyway, the concert itself was quite good. Bestor himself is a little melodramatic and a teensy tiny bit self-aggrandizing, but there's no doubt he's a very talented composer and arranger. (Lyricist? Not so much. Forrest groaned a little during a song Bestor wrote about children giggling on sleigh rides and whiskers on kittens, or something like that, and I had to kick him under his seat and admonish him with my eyes for his cold, unfeeling heart. Even though I agreed with him. But I didn't groan.) But the songs WITHOUT lyrics were really cool and he had some excellent musicians up on stage. The best part of the night, though, was the special guest, Jonathan Butler, a South African-born Jazz/gospel singer and guitarist. His performance of O Holy Night was one of the best live musical performances I've ever seen in my life. Ever. Tears, chills, the whole nine yards. Totally made up for the giggling children and whiskers on kittens and then some. Amazing.

So I went to Youtube, hoping to find Bulter singing a Christmas song as my sign-off for this post, but I couldn't find anything Christmassy. I figured Gospel-y was good enough. Enjoy!

A Dozen Things that Happened While I was NaNo-ing

So, as I previously warned, November was a pretty thin blogging month because I was busy pounding away at my novel. And while I'm proud to say that I was able to get a little bit over 40k words out of the deal (that's about 150 typed, double-spaced pages), I'm a little bummed that I didn't reach the 50k finish line. My biggest mistake was falling behind a little in the beginning, so then when mini-disaster struck [see below, re: the vomitorium] I wasn't able to catch up before Thanksgiving. But hey! I have 40k words I wouldn't have otherwise written, and I'm glad for that. I'm going to keep plugging away and hope to have a finished rough (ROUGH) draft by the end of Jan, early Feb. Who knows if the book will ever come to anything (heck, I don't even know if I like it), but at least I'm writing.

Anyway, we fell behind here at Ang & 4 Plus 4, didn't we? I'll try to get caught up on the events of the past month, quick and dirty. (Well, not DIRTY dirty. You know what I mean.)

1. BIGGEST NEWS OF ALL: Forrest finished his first marathon!! I was supposed to go to Mesquite with him, but because I was all cooped up in the vomitorium [see below], alas, I was not able to attend and cheer him on. Luckily his good friend Cody was able to go and run alongside him.


That's Forrest on the phone right after the race, talking to me and telling me that he doesn't think he'll run a marathon ever again. About an hour later he'd already changed his mind and is now planning to do the SL marathon in August and beat that 4 hour threshold he was shooting for.

Forrest finished in 4:08, a really good time, but not as fast as he wanted it to be. He was on pace to finish under 4 hours but the last few miles gave him some trouble. I think he gets to put an asterisk next to his time, though, since Forrest didn't escape the vomitorium, either, and got sick a few hours after he got home. More on that below.

But I'm so proud of him, and hope he does do the SL marathon in April so I can go and cheer him on for real this time.

2. Speaking of running fast, I found out I have a sluggish thyroid. Yippee! Went in for my annual physical, and while the good news is that the early morning oatmeal and occasional fish oil tablets seem to be helping to lower both my cholesterol and triglycerides (cholesterol is now normal, triglycerides only slightly elevated), I hadn't had a thyroid test in years and it turns out my thyroid is hypo. So now I get to take a little pill every morning before I eat breakfast, joining the ranks of prescription-medication-takers. Sigh. And it's probably not even going to make me skinnier.

3. Irreantum wasn't able to get off to the printer as soon as I would have liked. I was hoping to get 'er out the door by the first week of Nov., but my copyeditor went AWOL and stopped answering her emails and phone calls (either avoidance behavior or something went really wrong for her, and I still don't know which one it is.) I finally decided I'd better suck it up and do the final proofing myself. I know there are probably some errors I missed. Double sigh. But the journal is at the printers right this very moment, and, probable typos aside, I'm still very proud of it. And glad it's done.

4. Our stake went to a "special meeting" two weeks ago that people were all a-twitter over. Some were speculating it was a stake split; others were certain that our stake was going to take part in a "pilot program." One pilot program speculation? Get rid of Scouts. Hooray! (I know. Blasphemy, Angie, blasphemy. The stinkin' paperwork and hoop jumping is likely to kill me though, so forgive me if I was rooting for that "pilot program" in a secret corner of my heart.) The other rumor was the ubiquitous 2-hour-block rumor. I dismissed that one out of hand because I've heard it for fifteen years now. I'm surprised nobody brought up the 19 yr. old girls going on missions rumor. At any rate, we were prepped for BIG NEWS.

Turns out, though, that the only reason for the meeting was because our stake hadn't had a GA visit in a really long time. That would have been a trifle anticlimactic if the speaker hadn't been Elder Hales, and he hadn't delivered one of the most interesting and electrifying talks I've heard in a long time. I won't go into details because anything on the internet is liable to get copied and spread via email to Mormon inboxes across the world--although I will say, in all honesty, that Elder Hales referenced Star Wars as an excellent metaphor for the war between darkness and light and called Satan "Darth Vader." He did neglect to mention that Yoda was modeled after President Kimball, though. :-). Anyway, it was a fabulous meeting and gave me a lot to think about. Still thinking about it, in fact.

5. Forrest left with Ethan the Monday before his marathon, Nov. 16, to go to Minnesota. Forrest had meetings and thought it would be a good time to bring Ethan along, since he hadn't visited MN since we moved; the two of them did a little manly bonding via pheasant hunting. (We et up the pheasants in a lovely soup Forrest made for the BYU/U of U game, as a matter of fact. They were tasty. He can bring home the pheasants, fry em up in a pan!). But Ethan had a great time and flew home on Tuesday night as an "unaccompanied minor." When I went and picked him up at the gate, he looked so old walking out of that plane, flanked by two stewardesses who complimented him on his maturity and good behavior. He missed a little school, but I think it was worth it.

6. And now, the vomitorium! The day after Forrest left, Tues night, Jonas started throwing up. On Thursday Wyatt joined the fray, emptying his McDonald's Happy Meal all over my new car and in the crooks and crevices of his car seat. It was while I was hand spraying little vomitty chunks out of the car seat buckles that it occurred to me I might not get my writing time in that day. Forrest was due home Thursday at midnight, and I told him to come home directly and go to the guest bedroom. Do not touch anyone. Try not to breathe. Etc., etc. Luckily my mom was able to come after work and hold poor sick Wyatt while I ran around in a frenzy and tried to get everything ready for my class that night and stayed with him while I taught.

Anyway, Thursday night Forrest came home and I was lying on the couch in the living room, trying to help Wyatt get some sleep, and he smiled sadly--no touching!!--as we both realized I would NOT be going to Mesquite with him after all. I was deep in the throes of martyrdom at that point. Then Ethan woke up Friday morning and headed right for the bathroom.

So Forrest left Friday right about lunch time, and about 3 p.m. I realized that I, too, had become afflicted--so it was a good thing I hadn't decided to come. I called my mom later that night and learned that she'd also gotten sick. By then Elise was the lone holdout in the family.

And when Forrest got home on Saturday afternoon, it slowly became apparent that he, too, had the bug. A person who'd been in the house for 12 hours, didn't touch anybody, washed his hands like a surgeon--and he STILL got sick! I was a little worried because his body was already so depleted from running the marthon, but he pulled through just fine. By Sunday night we were mostly recovered (mostly), and miracle of miracles, Elise never got it.

But I blame this nasty little bug--in part--for 1. me not finishing NaNoWriMo and 2. Forrest not finishing in under 4 hours. Vengance!!! (How does one take vengance on a stomach virus? Purell? Clorox Handi-wipes?? Tell me and I'll try it.)

7. In the midst of the week of lamentations, Jonas and Elise's artwork was displayed at the school's reflections contest. The theme was "Beauty Is . . .", which Jonas found embarassingly un-manly, and refused to write ANYTHING on such a theme, but figured he could take pictures without threatening his masculinity. He took some great up-close photos of rocks around our neighborhood and put together a great collage called "Beauty Rocks!" Here's one of the photos:



And Elise wrote a great poem--and won an honorable mention! Here's her poem:

What Beauty Is

Beauty is a blue sky
with no clouds at all.
Beauty is when summer’s nigh,
or right before the Fall.

Beauty is when the first rose grows
right after the freezing cold.
Beauty’s when a stream flows.
Beautiful things never get old.

Beauty is the first star to shine,
then come all the rest.
Beauty isn’t when things are “just fine”—
Beauty is the best.

Good job, guys! I was very proud of both of you.

8. Wyatt finally turned the corner with the potty training. Although he still has occasional accidents, he's taken responsibility for it and now tells us when he needs to go. No more constant, "Do you need to go potty?" "NOOOOO!!!" "Now do you need to go potty?" "NOOOO MOOOOOOMMMMM!" conversations. He's even getting better with the always-difficult #2. So I'm very proud of Wyatt.

And Ethan, in case you didn't infer it from above, I'm proud of you for providing us with tasty pheasants and being mature on the airplane. :-)

9. Thanksgiving! We hosted the Hallstroms at our house this year, and I must say, the food was tasty! Turkey was moist (thanks to apple cider brining, cooking the bird upside down part of the time, and Forrest's overall culinary skill); the potatoes were fluffy; the stuffing wasn't too moist or too dry. And Mindy made a delicious chocolate confection--and I forget what it's called by I swear they've made it on Top Chef. I had to buy a new tablecloth because my other one SHRUNK. And I was all set to take a picture of the table and of the family seated around it . . . but I was so busy getting all those platters out on the table simultaneously that I plum forgot. I hereby vote that Thanskgiving should happen in courses. As it is, the rush to the table is so crazy, certain things get cold, and then blamo! The meal is over. All in favor? Good.

That night we joined up with my family and went bowling. Good times had by all and Jonas got the high score of all the kids, much to his delight. (He's a competitive little bugger.) And I decided not to bowl at all this year, which actually made it more fun for me. I'm such a bad bowler, and year after year people keep trying to help me--bless them--but, alas, all the good advice is for naught. I have crooked arms. Or something. But it was a lot more fun to watch and cheer people on. Forrest had a great game. Perhaps because he wasn't distracted by giving me pointers on how to straighten out my crooked arms??

10. Black Friday. I do like Black Friday shopping, it's true. It's fun. I know, I know. But I like it. I get a lot of good deals and get a lot done, too. Between that and ordering things online, I'm almost done with all my shopping. Hooray!

11. Elise performed with the Riverton Children's Choir at the Assembly Hall at Temple Square on Sunday. She looked beautiful and the choir is SO GOOD. I tell you what, at $60 a YEAR this choir is the best extra-curricular investment I've ever made. Unfortunately, somehow my camera got left on and I was only able to snap two pictures before it died--and not very good pictures, either. But at least I have something.




Elise is on the top left. I know it's blurry, but she looked so pretty. Lucky girl: she's got great bone structure. And I'm so glad she loves to sing. She's one of the best 11 year old altos I know.

12. Christmas! I finally finished up the Christmas decorating last night. We got a little derailed because our previous fake tree finally gave up the ghost: we plugged it in a few days ago and nary a light would shine. So I had to take to the stores (yep: Target, Wal-Mart, Michael's AND Lowe's) before finally finding one that I liked that was on sale. Unfortunately we didn't know the tree was dead before Black Friday, so I probably didn't get the MOST screaming deal, but good enough. And here's the finished product:



I broke down and bought a bow to adorn the top of the tree because the Santa we've been using for (what?) fifteen years now is so old and raggedy--his white hair standing on end, his clothes all skiwompus--that he looks homeless. Or at least mildly insane. I'd tried to do a star but it kept falling off. So: the bow. And I like it! Wyatt is thrilled about the Christmas village and is much less likely to crush it this year. (He keeps telling Jonas, "Don't touch it!" Then goes off and starts playing with all the little people and trees himself.)

Now all I need to do is get going on the Christmas card, finish up some shopping, pull off the Relief Society Christmas party next week (we're meeting tonight for a marathon painting-and-modge-podging extravaganza to finish the gifts we're giving to all the women in the ward at the party), then hit some fun Christmas parties and do some baking. Before I know it December will be over!

I leave you with a picture I took of Wyatt yesterday. I'd dragged the poor kid all the way downtown, during his naptime, because I had to turn in a packet of stories and poetry for next semester's class at the SL Center. I'd meant to go before his naptime but, as with all things, the packet took longer than I'd thought and he fell asleep on the way there. Luckily, right before we got home, he fell asleep again and was able to catch a few winks on the couch.



My sentiments exactly, bud. And yours too, probably, if you slogged your way through this entire post!

Just quick . . .

I'm not doing much blogging because of NaNoWriMo (computer time is preeeecious--and you're supposed to say that in your head in the exact same way as Gollum in the LOTR movies). But a couple of things.

1. Ethan's been in MN with his Dad having a grand old time shootin pheasants and visiting our old house. He hasn't been back since we moved almost 4 years ago and he told me it was "cool but weird. Everything's small. And not as wooded." He's coming home tonight, flying as an unaccompanied minor (and Forrest didn't find out until he checked him in at the gate a few hours ago that it's an extra 100 smakeroonies to do that). It worries me a touch, having him fly all alone, but then I remember that I flew by myself to Albuquerque to see my Grandparents when I was eight and nothing terrible happened. Other than the fact that I returned home with my hair cut short. As I remember it, my Grandma didn't really run that decision past my mom. But the cool thing about hair is that it grows, right?

Anyway, in honor of Ethan, I want to point everybody in the direction of his rarely-posted-upon blog. He has a new post up and he wants some input. So everybody visit here. Fly home safe, bud!

2. I've written about 22,000 words of the 50,000 I plan to have done by Nov. 30. I'm a little behind, it's true, but I think I can do it. I'm feeling more groovy (as in in-the-groove, not so much groovy-baby), and although I have no idea how the story's going to turn out, I've forgotten how much fun it is to have characters and conflicts start leaping up out of the bushes.

3. Wyatt refuses to be poop trained.

4. How come I never win cooking contests? In the past few years I've entered chili contests, cookie contests, and just this week, a cobbler contest. All of these are church activity or neighborhood togetherness related, of course. I'm more a social baker than a serious chef. No Pillsbury Bake-off for me. I mean, heavens, I'm like oh-for-five in WARD cook-offs. This last time there were FOUR entrants and they gave TWO prizes and I still didn't win.

It's enough to make a girl swear off cooking altogether. Except I do make wicked good chocolate chip cookies. Even if nobody wants to give them a prize . . .

Family Photo Shoot

On Sunday I called Cindy with the bright idea to have her take some pictures of our family and I take some pictures of hers for Christmas cards, etc. (We both have the same camera.) But turns out that Tony and Cindy already got some pictures taken (gorgeous, gorgeous pictures), and as we started comparing schedules it turned out that the best time to get the pictures taken was exactly 25 minutes from the time I picked up the phone! It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon, we were all relatively groomed post-church, and I knew the colors I wanted to wear. So--shazam!!--I made everybody change clothes, put on a swipe of lipstick, fluffed Elise's hair, and out the door we went! We just barely caught the light--but we caught it! And the pictures turned out really beautiful, I think.

So here for your viewing pleasure--our photo shoot! And thanks so much, Tony and Cind, for taking such wonderful pictures. I'm thinking of using the first one below for our Christmas card photo. Whaddayathink?

Halloweenishness

So here's the Halloween rundown.

The night before Halloween, we had an adult neighborhood Halloween party. Most couples tried to coordinate outfits. You know, with their spouses. But Forrest and Cody had other ideas:


It really was a pretty good idea, though, I've gotta admit. Freaky and disturbing, but also pretty funny. And yes, he's wearing an old dress of mine from a decade ago.


But it did leave me without a costume "theme," so instead of trying to be an Elder or something (I guess I could have dressed up in a suit and been their Zone Leader??) I took elements of Elise's costume, ratted my hair, sprayed it silver (which made me look kinda like a 65 year old woman with bedhead, but what they hey) and called it good. I also put sparkles on my face. Just because we had them (for Elise's costume). Because under what other circumstances would I ever have the opportunity to put sparkles on my face?

Anyway, it was a fun party and Forrest only spoke in a falsetto about 40% of the time.

Ethan's costume consisted of a pair of realistic fangs we purchased on the internet. He begged and begged for the fangs--but nicely, he knows how to work the system--and like any good permissive parent he finally wore me down and I spent just as much on fangs as I did on Jonas's costume. He assures me that he's going to use them for movie-making in the future, though--and he was highly, HIGHLY pleased with the way the fangs turned out.
This cloak we dug out of the orange Halloween bin . . . since he spent all his money on the fangs, of course.
Ethan and two of his friends (the third hadn't shown up yet). As yet another example of my parental aquiescence, I let Ethan go trick or treating even though I'd told him that last year was the final year. Lots of kids his age were out and about, though--and they're still on the young side of teenagerhood. And they're good kids, too. Had fun. When they came home, we'd rented "Something Wicked This Way Comes" for them to watch in the basement (one of our classic PG rated 80s horror movies, that and "Watcher in the Woods"--remember??). But guess what? They all decided they didn't want to watch a scary movie and watched Napoleon Dynamite instead.

This is Elise, wearing much of what I wore to the Halloween party the night before (but not looking like a 60 year old woman). She looked dang cute, actually. When people asked her what her costume was, she said she was a "dead maiden."

Spooooooky!

Elise and Tayler. Both dead. Elise and Tayler and another friend from school trick or treated both our neighorhood AND the school friend's neighborhood. Double score!


Jonas was some kind of medieval knight / "Nasgruel" (??? Jonas supplied this spelling) Lord of the Rings character. Mainly he wanted the sword and the shield when he saw them at Target, so we bought both of those and rummaged the rest of the costume from the aforementioned orange Halloween bins. I really am not one of those "homemade costume" moms, apparently. And although I think homemade costume moms ROCK . . . I'm very comfortable in my store-boughteneness. We all have our talents, etc etc, right?

Jonas and a bunch of his friends at our neighborhood Halloween party, Halloween afternoon. Jonas took off trick or treating with this gaggle of boys and I didn't see him until almost 10:00 that night. Kids scattered hither and thither this Halloween!

Good think we have Wyatt still at home, willing to let his parents tag along while he trick-or-treats. Wyatt was going to be a dinosaur for Halloween, but changed his mind at the last minute. When I asked him if he wanted to wear the policeman outfit he'd found in Grandma Sweat's costume collection, he was all over it!

This is a shot of the Wy-dog post trick-or-treating. He was hilarious. Not only did he have to psych himself up for the "scary" houses (one house had spooky music and a bunch of zombie mannequins lining the walk and Wyatt was mumbling, "I not scared, I not scared" under his breath), but once he got up to the door, even though we'd coached him on proper "trick or treat" and "thank you" etiquette, he'd simply put his hand out, palm up, and wiggle his fingers in a "gimme gimme" gesture. Luckily most folks thought it was cute.



Muscles! He had a ball on Halloween this year, but he's glad that all the scary stuff has been taken out of the grocery store and the giant skeleton guy is no longer in the lobby of Lifetime Fitness. In fact, today when we went to Target and got to the "holiday" section he said, "Santa! I love Santa! Christmas! Mom, it smells like apples!" (And he was right. It DID smell like apples.)

So onward and upward. Christmas here we come!