Hosting Thanksgiving

For the first time ever, we hosted Thanksgiving dinner. If you know me well, you know this was a big deal. Hosting gatherings at my home tends to stress me out, but I'm doing a lot better with it. We enjoyed a really delightful afternoon of eating, resting, playing, and chatting. It was lovely!

The grandmas relax before eating.

Aunt Debbie helped the kids make gumdrop turkeys.

The babies were ready for their nap even before we started eating.

H spent half the afternoon reading to relatives. (He volunteered!)

The little things

I've been thinking a lot lately about the little things for which I'm grateful. Our immediate family is well and fine, but precious extended family members are in pain and not feeling well. And that's hard. Even as I've cried because things aren't the way I'd like them to be—especially at this time of year—I've been profoundly grateful for the tender mercies that have found their way into our lives as a direct result of these challenges.

Having an increased love for family and a desire to be with them more often.
Sharing simple gospel truths and playing silly games together.
Laughing over past fun we've had.
Watching sisters and brothers in law sweetly care for ailing family members.
Watching my sometimes shy kids open up as they've read with, hugged, and sung to family members.

I love my family so much. I am more grateful than ever for the plan of salvation and the opportunity to be with them forever.

Spectacle

More than a year after having twins, I think we're mostly used to the spectacle our family has become. The looks from strangers as we stroll through Costco, one baby on each side of the cart and three children trotting alongside. People asking if the babies are indeed twins. (I know that one is bigger than the other, but come on, there's no way A2 is nine months older than N.) However, a few months ago, we moved from a ward that had eight or nine sets of twins to a ward with maybe two. Lately, we've been getting a lot of this from our neighbors: "Boy, you really do have your hands full." Yeah, thanks for the tip. I only realize that myself maybe ten times a day or so.

I was laughing on Sunday as I watched my husband struggle to walk in the church hallway while holding A2 in his arms, and holding the hand of a walking N. A2 was trying to leap out of my husband's arms, and N was struggling to get away to inspect some poor woman's diaper bag. And our row in church on any given Sunday is not exactly a pretty sight. There is a lot of whining, a lot of crying, and a lot of hissing. And that's just from me.

Last Sunday evening, as we did tithing settlement, the bishop said that callings for both of us "are in the works." He said this as the babies tried to dump the jelly beans off his desk, pull themselves onto his chair, and rip various papers, all while crying and whining because they were tired. Um, Bishop? I'm not so sure we're ready for that...

Grammar

Is there no one left who cares about grammar? About comma splices, colons, and who vs. whom? And the all-important apostrophes (so very rarely used correctly, even on billboards and signs)? And while we're at it, it's "I could NOT care less" not "I could care less"—I can't tell you how many times I've heard that and inwardly cringed. I've even heard it on TV shows and movies!

I know the group of people who honestly care about using correct grammar is rather small, but sometimes, I seriously feel like I'm the only one in the bunch. On Saturday, I went to see "Disney on Ice: Princess Classics" with S and my two sisters-in-law. The play itself was somewhat long, but we had a really fun day overall, especially since we wore princess crowns the whole time. Watching S's face light up at every new thing in the production was well worth it. When asked which part was her favorite, she said, "All of it!"

But back to grammar: During the Snow White segment, the evil queen was doing her bit in front of the magic mirror. At one point, the magic mirror said, "Snow White is more fairer than you."

I immediately looked around to see if anyone else had noticed the grammar snafu. Anyone? Anyone? Just me, then?

*Sigh.* I can't even count on Disney to use correct grammar.


Oh well. At least we looked awesome in our crowns.

Night-time Snuggles

When you have twins, chances are that on occasion, one of them will wake up in the middle of the night. Even though you've sleep trained both of them, it doesn't work for every night, all night long. Especially when one of those babies is a light sleeper. And the other baby is a loud sleeper. It happens.

The other night, I had N in bed next to me. She woke up crying and I (against my better judgment but who has good judgment in the middle of the night) got her out of bed. It's a bad decision with N because once she's out of bed, she doesn't go back to sleep for hours. She'll lay in bed next to you, stare into space, babble, and poke you, but never sleep. And don't you dare try to put her back in her own bed or she will commence sobbing, which will most certainly wake her brother up. As she lay in bed next to me, staring wide awake into the darkness, I snuggled up to her and tried to doze myself. I felt her little hand reach out and touch my shoulder. Most likely, she was making sure I didn't try and leave her, but my heart swelled up so huge just then. These are the moments, I thought to myself, however exhausting they may be right now, that you will miss when they're gone. When these two precious babies are even just a little bit bigger, and they start talking and jumping and going to preschool and everything else.

These are the moments you'll miss.

Halloween

I've been thinking about writing this for a while now. I told my husband that I was going to do it, then I chickened out, and then I decided to go ahead with it.

I don't like Halloween.

Before you Halloween lovers rise up in alarm, please let me clarify.

Growing up, I thought Halloween was fun. As a lover of all things candy, the thought of going door-to-door and getting it for free was pure heaven. But that was where my fondness for Halloween ended. I am not a hugely creative person, unless you count writing. I don't come up with elaborate Halloween costumes for myself. We will probably never be the family that dresses up together in a theme. As one of five daughters in my family, we had several costumes we just rotated between us every year. A cat. A rabbit. A baby. (I can't remember the rest.) We picked what we were going to be, pulled out an old pillowcase to hold all our loot, and off we went.

To add to this, I hate being scared. I hate watching scary movies. I hate haunted houses. I even hate mildly frightening music that might hint of something scary to come. So a holiday that delights in all things scary was probably never going to fly with me. (Now, lest you think I hate all holidays, I adore Christmas and Thanksgiving. Favorite time of year, hands down.)

Of course, I married into a family of Halloween lovers. Every year, my poor husband will want to think up a cool costume for Halloween, and maybe even something we can be together. We always head off to the local Halloween store, and while he peruses the aisles in search of the perfect costume, I walk behind him, aghast at how much costumes cost. This year, he saw a Bigfoot costume for $100. For one night?!! Thankfully, he didn't get it. I even talked my kids into mostly recycling costumes from years before. We only had to purchase a Hannah Montana wig for S and a Captain America costume for H. I wore my Japanese kimono from six years ago.

This past Halloween, I generally grumbled under my breath about the annoyance of this so-called holiday. Then, that evening, I went trick-or-treating with the kids while A stayed at home to hand out candy with the babies. As I watched the kids sprint from house to house, exclaiming over all the loot they got (including a can of Root Beer!), I got a little of the love back that I used to have for Halloween. I may never wear the awesome costumes or even have Halloween decorations up at my house (I prefer a Harvest wreath and a few pumpkins), but it's still a holiday with free candy involved. And anything with candy can't be all bad.

My husband, getting ready for his night bike ride on October 30. (No, I'm not sure what gorillas have to do with mumus. And there are also glow sticks all over the mumu that you can't see.) The next day, he dressed up again as a gorilla, went to a cyclocross race and handed out bananas.

A ladybug, a SWAT team guy, a cow, Captain America, and Hannah Montana. Sorry about the bottles, but there was no way these babies would hold still otherwise. Also, notice A2's new shoes.