There is that one thing

Ok, I thought of one thing that I don't like about this time of year. But it's not the season's fault. It's mine.

Every year, I bake treats for friends, neighbors, visiting teaching families, and home teaching families. There's the baking, the wrapping, the card-writing, and of course, the dropping off. On some level, I do it because I want to. I want to show my love and friendship for others at this time of year. But a small part of me might do it just because everyone else does. (Did I just admit that?)

A few weeks ago, I started thinking about "the list" (of who gets treats) and after much deliberation, I've decided not to do treats at all.

I could pretend it's because I want to get away from all the commercialism at Christmas--you know, really be one with the season. But really, it's because I'm lazy. The mere thought of all that baking and preparing just about sent me over the edge so I decided it wasn't worth it. Unfortunately, my guilt might decide for me. When I went visiting teaching last week and handed her just a card (because I couldn't go completely empty-handed!!!) I of course felt the need to explain why. But, I really doubt she even thought twice about it. When neighbors bring over treats, I immediately think, "Better make sure they're on the list." And then I remember there is no list. I'm starting to feel like Luther Krank in Skipping Christmas...

So, this is a message to my neighbors, friends, and loved ones. If you don't receive a Christmas treat from us this year (and you won't, because no one will) please don't think less of us. We love all of you very much, and we're so grateful to have such wonderful people in our lives. But this mom's taking a year off from it all... or maybe two or three years (I'll assess my guilt to increased sanity ratio at the end of December before I decide about next year).

I heart Christmas

I love everything about this time of year--the sights, the sounds, the smells, the emotions--everything.

I love decorating for Christmas.
I love twinkly white lights.
I love that the older I get, the more I believe in Santa Claus.
I love watching Christmas movies (White Christmas, Holiday Inn, Elf, The Santa Clause, and yes, even The Christmas Story)
I love watching my kids on Christmas morning--reminds me of staying up late with my little sister on Christmas Eve, way too excited to sleep.
I love the Nativity play we do at my in-laws every year. I still remember when S had her turn as "Baby Jesus". I quietly cried as I watched, overwhelmed by the kinship I felt with Mary.
I love crazy Christmas decorations on other people's houses.
I love singing Christmas carols.
I love getting together with family and friends.
I love that for even one month during the year, people are a little bit nicer to each other, the world seems to have more hope, and people stop and remember the Savior.

I heart Christmas.

Our first (and possibly only) trip to the North Pole

The Polar Express train ride started out reasonably well.

Children were wild with anticipation.

Everyone enjoyed reading along as the original story was recited.

Some (ok, me) were less than enthusiastic due to a sinus headache and what I call "The Sudafed Fog."

But it was truly wonderful to see the kids' faces light up when we reached the North Pole, and even more so when Santa walked into our car. Every child got one-on-one time with him and every child got a special bell. It was great.
Some of us (ok, me again) got cranky on the way back when carols turned into yelling matches and when one five-year-old boy decided he had to pee. (Note: H had gone to the bathroom at the station before we left, but after too much hot chocolate on the train, he had to go again. NO bathrooms on the train. Seriously. One of the elves told us he would be happy to show H a place where he could pee off the back of the train. The elf also suggested a plastic cup. My shy boy was having none of that, but somehow my father-in-law convinced him to pee outside in a trash can or something. Really, I think nature took over and he realized he was out of options.)

Then things really took an interesting turn when one passenger decided that drinking vodka out of a clear plastic flask would help her get in the Christmas spirit. Really.

(video removed)

This was just one tiny portion of her performance. She went on and on and on, ending with a "Murrry Chrishhmas" greeting. (We don't think she came with kids, but her female friends were beyond mortified at her behavior.)

A few obvious questions arise from this incident: Why would grown women come on a Polar Express train ride without any kids? And why would one of these women decide that bringing vodka on a train full of children was a sound idea? And getting drunk at 6 pm... on a Monday? Really? Lastly, as my husband eloquently put, "A plastic flask? Come on. If you're going to be a lush, at least go for something in stainless steel."

Cocoa Latte

One of my all-time favorite Christmas gifts from my mother-in-law is our cocoa latte machine. What is that, you ask? Only the most fabulous hot drink maker in the entire world, of course. Just pour in your chosen beverages, turn it on, and it heats and mixes to the perfect temperature--not too hot, not too cold. Perhaps you're thinking, why not just make hot chocolate the old-fashioned way? Because the real genius of the cocoa latte machine is the froth/dispense button. Just turn that baby on, dispense your drink, and you instantly have a delicious, frothy confection. I use it a ton during the winter, making plain old hot chocolate, egg nog with nutmeg, mexican hot chocolate, and of course, the ever popular Coffee Mate creamers with milk. My current favorite is Hazelnut Biscotti.

If you'd like to sample the Cocoa Latte perfection for yourself, pop on over. We'll drink them in oversized mugs and watch a movie. It'll be awesome.

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas

... especially when you hang out all day in snuggly flannel PJ's.

Reminder

I've had a post brewing for a few days now. It was going to be a rant about disobedient, disrespectful children who have a sense of entitlement I've never seen the likes of before. I was planning to plea for help with said children because it seems like everything we've tried just hasn't worked. I've been letting this post brew in my head, thinking often about how my children frustrate me, why they do this, and why they won't do that. Then last night, I found this while I was getting ready for bed:

I don't think my daughter spends her days thinking about why her mom gets impatient with her sometimes, or why her mom doesn't always have time to sit and play with her. Even though it's obviously important as parents to think of ways to help our children progress, it's wonderful to be reminded that forgiveness, love, and stick figures holding hands are pretty important, too.