A Blast From Christmas Past

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merry christmas

& a happy new year.

with love,

-k

Nog

Dare not waste a single drop.

For, the eve of Christmas is upon us and we must make haste.

p.s. as you may have noticed, we've hit the road and this post was brought to you by post scheduling. See you in a week's time my friends.

If You Care To Join Us...

we'll be doing all sorts of celebratory stunts this evening.

For this time tomorrow we will be aboard a non-stop flight to cousins, sun and warmth (please let there be sun and warmth, please let there be sun and warmth).

I will miss my own Whitmer family for Christmas once again this year. Don't worry guys, you will have each other and a new baby will bring you all to my house in 2010, right?

I will make sure to wash the moonbeam smell (aka bare leen buns) out of the guest bedspread before you come. So much to look forward to.

Carving Pumpkins are to Halloween As

Mid-Day Preparations For Operation Vacation

He does this:

Then finally after the reaching and the begging and the wood floor-soaked tears he (thankfully) did this:

All the while she appeared to be doing this:

But was actually doing this:

All I need to do is:

4 loads of laundry, pack for 8 days of ambiguous weather, clean the homestead, freak out, run errands, keep children alive, make sure I have all the makings to supply the Vaisey children with a very Merry Christmas (I don't), crawl in a hole.

We're gonna need a Christmas Miracle.

5

Five years ago today we sealed the deal. In the Palmyra Temple with our dear friends and family present. On a wintery snow-covered December afternoon.

Jeff lost his recommend upon arrival to the temple that morning. I remember mildly freaking out about that.

I wore uggs under my dress as we marched in the snow for photos.

Jeff in his patent leather shoes with frozen toes, slipping around at every step.

Rosy cheeks and red noses.

Looking at my husband wearing a shinny new ring on his left ring finger. I really loved how it looked on him.

Me, making sure I was looking my best at every pass of a mirror, reapplying and readjusting.

The drive to the reception alone together in our wedding attire for the first time as husband and wife. The stares and honks we got on the way.

And knowing not soon enough we'd be whisking off to our hotel room for the night, then on to our honeymoon followed by the rest of our lives together.

And today, I am so happy to be his wife.

Jerky USA

Yes, this post is about beef jerky. But before you click away, hear me out.

Arrived yesterday, a big ol' sack full of varities of Old Fashioned Luther's Smokehouse Beef Jerky. (and buffalo jerky? not sure about that one, Esq.)

But, holy moly! this stuff is de-lec-ta-ble. I think Sime has been gnawing on his strip for a hour. No sugars added, it's pure beef and salt & pepper in every savory chew. Now, I'm not one to easily excite about the tastings of beef jerky(surprised?), but boy oh boy this stuff is mighty tasty. Pure protein and iron for the craving pregnancy bod. And it seems to have an effect on my speech as I can't stop talkin' cowboy.

"What in tarnations"?

So , y'all (I'm disgusting) run to check this stuff out (they didn't even pay me to say that) Especially if you have a jerkyaholic for a husband, or apparently a wife for that matter.

Whew. Now I need to go turn off the computer, step slowly away and reflect on the passionately shameful post all about dried meat goods I just supplied you with.

Simon Says

juuuuceeeeey: juice

peetsy: pizza

newcey: snow

and my personal favorite...

jeezey: Jesus

Here he is pictured in action on Tuesday, during the two hours of alone time with me (while lena is at PS co op). Which nearly always involves a car in each paw.

It's a highlight of my week. For sure.

Oh The Treasures To Be Found

...in Baba Juje's basement.

Why bother to buy them toys when there are things like giant stuffed 1990s Mickey, ferbies, and bright fuchsia sun hats down there just waiting to be found.

Just so long as they don't find their way to our house, then, I'm afraid, nothing can save them. But you didn't hear that from me.

Some Mornings Come Earlier Than Others

and it just so happens we have a son who can maneuver his way around an iPod like nobody's biz.

A Monday Morning Dose of the Touchy Feelies

Thoughts and feelings for an online journal entry: Sunday, December 13, 2009

It's 10:30 p.m. on a quiet, Sunday night and I type to the (loud) sounds of a Toy Story game being played on the iPhone. I look over to the lump of white bedspread next to me on the couch and tell him gently to turn it down. He obliges as he slides his chubby finger across the screen. You see, Simon took an over two hour nap today and can't seem to fall asleep for the life of him.

Normally I would be quite frustrated with him as I listen to his little footsteps upstairs, scurrying across the hallway for the 5th time. But, tonight I chose not to. I went upstairs, picked him up from behind the door in my bedroom (where he was hiding from me) and rocked him in the chair like I used to nightly, not so long ago. He laid completely still in my arms, wide awake looking up at me, his mother. I was spiritually overcome with emotion as I felt my love for him flooding in from head to toe and we continued that way for a long peaceful while. I couldn't help but think about all the many moments like these I miss out on by letting frustration and short patience take over my daily dealings with my children.

Tonight, the last installment of Stephanie Nielson's story was published, and I read and hung on every last word. The details of her journey of the past year are impossible to imagine. Impossible. Her story, among so many that have endured hardships and trials of such nature, has particularly touched me as it speaks to me and my role as a mother. When I look at the nie-inspired silhouettes that adorn my wall I am reminded, through her remarkable story, that I can happily chose to enjoy doing what I do. Why I whole-heartedly love being a mother to my own two, soon-to-be three, sweet children. And more importantly, just how fragile and precious that gift given to me is.

It is, and always will be about the choices we make. The family we are building here on earth trumps no other task set before us. Our children and our families are the single most precious thing we possess. No question. I think as women and mothers, we all feel this in our own way. A strong desire to trudge forward through the difficulty. The important thing is to remember those feelings. And to have them live with us daily. Let that be the choice I strive continually to make.