Christmas Pictures

Happy Christmas!

You are welcome to look at all our Christmas pictures and movies at http://picasaweb.google.com/davis.family3/ChristmasCelebration?authkey=SBSZYzqVSiQ&feat=directlink

Christmas morning

At 7:00, our oldest came in and asked, "Can we open presents now?" (When he went to bed after helping put the presents under the tree, we told him that he couldn't open presents until Christmas morning.) We told him that we didn't open presents until after breakfast, but he could play with what Santa had brought him. And play he did. Santa brought the boys a Tonka dumptruck to share. The oldest loaded all of the presents from under the tree (except the car seat) and drove it around.

When the youngest woke up, he helped drive.

Eventually, they started driving each other around.

After breakfast (orange rolls, Swedish tea ring, and sausages from the Farmer's Market). We started on the presents. The youngest liked opening presents, but needed some encouragement to keep going. The oldest was content with what he was given until the youngest opened his present, then the oldest wanted what the youngest had. The oldest's favorite was probably the My Little Yellow Taxi book from Utah grandparents and the dinosaur pillowcase from the Arizona grandparents. The youngest was just content with everything.

(We're experiencing technical difficulties with video, so please stay tuned for that.)

Thank you to all our wonderful family who helped our Christmas be so wonderful!

Merry Christmas

We wish(ed) you a merry Christmas!

(Do you see the excitement?)

Christmas Eve with friends

On Christmas Eve, we joined friends for a kid-friendly spaghetti dinner and a nativity reenactment. (You can see the spaghetti sauce stain on our oldest's face.) The oldest boys (ages almost 6, 3 and 2) decided to be the wise men, I dressed up as a shepherd, the youngest was the angel, and our friend was Mary (appropriate because she is pregnant). The husbands filled in as narrator, inn keeper, Joseph, and camera operator.

The wise men were all interested until we actually got started, then frankencense started getting thrown around and scraped along the wall, gold hit the door, and the wise men were wandering without any interest in a star. The angel didn't much like announcing the birth to the shepherd holding him up. He liked cuddling with the shepherd much better (though he did like petting baby Jesus).

Afterwards we celebrated with ice cream sundaes. When we got home, we pulled all the presents out from their "hiding" place in my closet and let the boys put them under the tree. The youngest was all prepared to start unwrapping, but only one present was torn.

My Misters Fix-it

We bought a used double jogging stroller so that we could continue going on walks with two boys. But there have been some problems with the tires. On Saturday, my husband decided to fix it. He pulled out his tools and dismantled the rear axle. He checked the tubing--one had a significant hole and he thinks one tube is too big for the tire it is fitted into--patched the hole, and reassembled the whole thing.

The whole time he had help fixing from two little Mr. Fix-its. The oldest kept asking for his tools and would poke his screwdriver into various pieces parts. He carried the wheel around the house so that his dad didn't fix it. The youngest just climbed over everything.

If only I could have let myself enjoy this while it was going on.

Decorating the tree

Thanks to the generosity of a friend (who wanted to get rid of her small artificial tree so that she could get a fresh tree), we have a Christmas tree. We got it the first Tuesday of December and decorated it the following Saturday. It was a pretty crazy day. My oldest stopped napping a while ago, but he is TIRED by the late afternoon.

On this particular day, we had been having a problem with the pair of pants he had chosen: they were too big and with his underwear on backwards they didn't stay up very well. All day long, he'd come up to me and ask for help pulling his pants back up. At about 3:30 in the afternoon, however, just pulling up his pants wasn't enough. He had a meltdown. He started crying and wouldn't stop.

"My pants," he cried.

"Let's pull them up," I said.

"No! I don't want these pants!"

We went in his room to get a new pair of pants. I pulled out his favorite jeans and

"I don't want to wear those pants! I need new underwear!"

Since I know better than to argue with an over-tired boy, I pulled out a pair of Thomas underwear and tried those.

"No!"

Finally I told him, "You are out of control. Why don't you cuddle on your bed with your puppies."

"I need pants." So he put the Thomas underwear and a pair of old sweats on himself, cuddled up with his puppies and was asleep before I was out of his room.

Meanwhile, the friend with the tree came by with her daughter. We chatted for a few minutes, and then the youngest and I started putting up the tree, and once the tree was up I needed to be sure that we had enough lights. It was pretty, the tree with the lights. The youngest kept going up to the lights (he loves electric plugs) and toughing them amazed.

After one hour, I tried to walk up the oldest. I told him about the tree; I told him about the lights; I told him that it was time to get up; I shook him; I pulled off his covers. His younger brother kept crawling back and forth between the lit tree and his brother's bed making an excited sound. Nothing worked. Finally we gave up. We left his door open and turned on the Christmas music.

At 6:00 the oldest finally woke up and started crying. (He was still tired, so I had hope that he wouldn't be up until 10:45 pm.) I told him to come out because we had put lights on the Christmas tree. He came out, still crying, and said, "The lights are so pretty."

We waited until the whole family could be together, Saturday night, and pulled out our hodge-podge of decorations. The boys thought that it was great fun to decorate the tree.

Since then the tree has fallen once (but it missed the youngest who was trying to get an ornament that was a little high for him), and the ornaments on the bottom third are constantly in flux. The oldest points out Christmas trees everywhere we go: "There is a Christmas tree like mine." It really does make us feel a little festive.

Catching up

Although the oldest of the group, my youngest has regularly met certain growing markposts after his girl friends who were born after him (one 3 days and one 1 month and 3 days after). Eating solids, growth charts, you name it. He's been a little slower. (He is still a negative on the growth chart.) Well, two weeks ago he really started catching up. He decided to really try walking. And he did pretty well. Since then he has kept up with the walking and tried other things: climbing stairs, climbing the bathroom stool to open the bathroom door, climbing on everything.

I tried catching his first steps on video, but it has been a little hard. My husband has been busy with end of the semester and job market stuff. So here is the best I could do.

Thanks giving

I thought I would share some of my gratitude list this Thanksgiving. It will probably seem silly and obvious to some of you, but this year I am especially grateful for these things. (I won't give you all of the reasons, but know that there are many.)

I am grateful for . . .
My husband and sons
My parents and siblings
My in-laws
Friends, near and far
Education, both mine and my husband's
Shelter, even if it isn't top quality, it is better than a lot of other people have
Prayer
Miracles for those I love
Enough to eat
Clothing
The gospel
The Savior
The Church
Inspiration
Motherhood
The United States of America
Technology (especially computers and mobile phones)
Good examples
To be able to serve others
Prophetic counsel
Peace (wherever and whenever it occurs)
Safety (and those who make it possible)
Certain trials, I can't be thankful for all of them yet
Temples and the covenants made there
Books
Generosity
Tax returns and stimulus checks
My comfy bed
Music
Dancing and reading with my boys
Family Home Evening traditions

Pie Night 2008

For years my family growing up had a party with pies and games the night before Thanksgiving so that the pies could be fully appreciated. Since being married, my husband and I have celebrated pie night, in one form or another, every year that we have been in the United States. (And the year we missed, good friends held pie night in our honor.)

This year, we tried some new pies. But, as always, I forgot to take pictures of every pie but the best shoofly pie I have ever made. So you'll have to take my word for it that I made all the pies.

We served:

Shoofly pie (I made it)

Apple pie (I made it)

Honey chiffon pie with ganoche bees (I made it)

French silk (I made it)

Banner banana pie (I made it)

Pumpkin (I made one and DS made another)

Black bottom chocolate pie (AC made it)

Cream cheese chocolate pie (SD made it)

Pecan pie (KBF made it)

Key lime pie (AC made it)

Vanilla ice cream (EK donated it because her mom was frazzled)

Gotta love the South

A few weeks ago I was chatting with my oldest sister as she drove through a white-out snowstorm in Utah. I was bragging that the boys and I were sitting in barefeet with the sliding-glass door open to the porch and that we were wearing t-shirts. Today, the boys are a little more dressed (long sleeved t-shirts for the boys, but the oldest always kicks off his shoes to play in the sand) but the door has been open all afternoon even though it is rainy and cool. Gotta love the South.

Nothing big . . .

This isn't one of those amazing posts, where I have pictures and details. My husband is at a conference and the boys and I are home with colds. We've been playing with feathers—yellow feathers someone left as part of a craft kit for too long in the church lost and found. I was sitting on the floor and the oldest was running circles around me (literally). All of us were laughing. The youngest crawled over to my lap and sat between my legs and leaned back. I had become his cushion. (He's been doing this lately sitting down by me and then leaning back as if my legs were his pillow and he were relaxing.) The youngest started laughing with me as we followed the oldest circling around us. It made having a cold and being homebound worthwhile. Sometimes I really love being a mom.

My First Pony (Ride)

A friend told me that one of the local senior assisted living centers was hosting a fall festival, and since we were out and about on Saturday, we decided to drive by. It was low key in some ways, but it made up for that by having pony rides. My oldest thought it looked pretty neat, and even submitted to being put on the pony by the guy in charge. Immediately after getting on, he patted the pony. He rode around with me right next to him (with the youngest in arms) for two rotations. Then the pony he was on stopped and my oldest decided he was done. Since I had had the youngest in arms, and I hadn't wanted to leave my little boy walking around on a pony without anything to help him balance (no reins or anything to hold on to), I hadn't been able to snap a picture of his first pony ride, so I stopped the ride for a minute while I got a few pictures.

Mmmm

My oldest has started climbing over the baby gate to get into the kitchen, where he opens the refrigerator and decides what he wants to eat. Sometimes, he will dump out a bucket of toys, throw the bucket over the gate, climb over himself, and use the bucket as a stool. (One Sunday, while I was at general conference, he did this to his father, grabbing a dozen eggs and accidentally dropping them on the floor. Or maybe it wasn't so accidentally; he loves breaking eggs.)

The other day, he did this and discovered almost-ripe pears on the counter. He grabbed one, peeled off the sticker, climbed back over the gate, and started to eat. When he was done, he dropped it on the floor. His younger brother found it and decided to try it out. His verdict: delicious!

Halloween

We went trick or treating with some friends in their neighborhood. There were seven children: an almost 6-year-old Anakin Skywalker, a 5 1/2-year-old race car driver, my 3-year-old Pancho Villa, an almost 3-year-old Darth Vadar (complete with a bow on her helmet), a 2 year-old octopus, an almost 2-year-old cat, and my 1-year-old frog. They were adorable! Darth Vadar and the race car driver LOVE the frog. The frog only wanted to be held by Mama (a mouse).

It was Pancho Villa's first experience trick or treating. (He's only gone trunk or treating, and there is a big difference when you are ringing doorbells and asking strangers, "Trick or treat?") You'll notice in the pictures that the sombrero made Pancho Villa a very wide load. If he was at the door, no other children were there, and if he was walking up the stairs, he walked up alone.

We also tried to emphasize safety: hold hands, make sure cars see you, no eating candy until Mama and Papi have checked it, have fun.

Darth Vadar (you can see her bow in this picture), the octopus, and Pancho did a great job holding hands. And then, when Pancho's sombrero fell off—which it often did—the octopus was sweet enough to help put it back on.

Here I am walking with the two boys. That's right: no sidewalks (or relatively few).

In the end, Pancho Villa, the cat, and the octopus trick or treated the longest. And they would have kept going but the frog was ready to go to sleep. We went back to our friends', ate delicious cinnamon rolls and chocolate cupcakes, and drank wonderful cider. What a wonderful time with friends.

My only complaint about the evening were the few houses who had decorated their homes, lit their pumpkins, left their porch light on, and left a light on in the house, but didn't answer the door (or weren't prepared for trick or treaters—the "Oh, I'm having a party" lady who eventually came through with some candy comes to mind). I don't expect anyone to participate who doesn't want to, but if you don't want to, turn off your light.

Happy 1st Birthday

Today was our youngest's birthday. I am amazed at how quickly a year goes by. We started off the morning with birthday presents. He thought they were really fun (wrapping paper and boxes—what gets better than that??) and loved that his older brother was sharing with him.


I had been brainstorming for weeks over what kind of birthday cake to make. I thought of making individual alphabet blocks or a frog or something like that, but was wisely vetoed by my husband. The oldest ended up helping me pick the pattern and the coloring (as well as they cake flavor): a black and white puppy made from French vanilla cake with a layer of fresh, sliced strawberries and white chocolate buttercream frosting. It turned out pretty cute, although some people joked that the puppy's collar looked like the stub of a neck.

The youngest thought it was pretty neat too. And he loved the little piece that he ate. (We learned from our oldest who spent the night after his first birthday throwing up because he ate more frosting than cake. The youngest got only the smallest amount of frosting and a smaller piece than his older brother had.) My husband manned the camera and forgot to get pictures of the youngest eating the cake, but there was comparatively little mess.

Dulces, dinero, o castigo

The ward's annual fall festival and trunk or treat party was last night. It was quite the event. We joined with another ward and had potluck chili and desserts (with rolls, chips, and beverages provided by our activitites committee), games (two bean bag tosses, one "pumpkin" toss, and a cookie walk), a craft (decorate a treat bag), and face painting. Since I'm on the activities committee, I was pretty busy, and since there were two wards, I was even busier with it than usual. The youngest was a champ sitting in a backpack for the first part of the evening, and his older brother was great too. (They both helped set up the games, craft, and face painting.)

The oldest dressed up as "Pancho Villa."

The youngest didn't dress up until right before the trunk or treating (he was in a backpack for a good while, remember). He was a frog (no picture yet; I'll post one as soon as I get one). He especially liked his webbed fingers. The oldest started off a little nervous of trick or treating. He did it with his dad last year while I was in the hospital with the youngest, but he didn't remember. He would almost whisper "trick or treat" from as far away from the car as possible and hold out his paper treat bag in a way that made it very difficult to get the candy inside the bag (especially as it got more and more full). He then whispered, "thank you." He was very excited about getting candy and, when offered the choice, picked lollypops.

The Pumpkin Patch

For the past five years, every fall that we've been in the area, we have gone with our good friends to the pumpkin patch to ride behind the tractor, play on an old tractor, greet real live animals, take pictures among the pumpkins, and eat a picnic lunch. (The only year we missed we were living in Spain.) This week was the annual visit, but it also coincided with the deadline to get job applications out, so my husband wasn't able to attend. Instead the boys and I braved traffic and went to the pumpkin patch. We didn't get as many good pictures (because I was having to help with set up, photography, discipline, and emotional breakdowns) but here are some of the pictures I liked.

I tried to get a good picture of the boys together—I've been trying for weeks to get a picture of the two boys together with both boys looking at the camera and seeming content—but, as you can see, it didn't happen.

Thanks, Amber, for helping out with this one. (If you look close enough you can see my head peaking out behind the youngest's head.)

The oldest LOVED the tractor. He thought it was the neatest thing and would have been content riding it all afternoon. The youngest, on the otherhand, had something against the hay-filled trailor. He didn't mind the noisy tractor, but started screaming the moment I would get near the trailor. Our great friends offered to take the oldest on a final tractor ride while the youngest and I watched. Here they are ready to go.

This was, hopefully, the last year for all of us to be at this particular pumpkin patch. Hopefully next year we will have tenure-track jobs somewhere near each other.

Camping Adventure

For the first time in the five plus years we've lived in the South, we decided to take advantage of Fall Break to do something that wasn't homework. A few months ago, we read in the Ensign an article that talked about how even though it is hard and not always the best bang for your buck, family camping trips were valuable. Now, I had grown up camping . . . a lot, and I've been talking about going on a family camping trip since my husband and I were married. So the article convinced him to give it a try. Now he (rightly) said, "The boys are a little young," but we decided to go anyway. [Husband: Correction, I said something like, "They're way too young."] So we picked a spot reasonably close to home and set everything up. Thursday afternoon, we were off.

The first part of the adventure was packing the car and deciding what didn't need to come. In the end we brought one foam mattress (instead of two) and two pillows (instead of three). (More on that part of the adventure later.) The car was PACKED and even more packed when we borrowed another child backpack from a friend. Then we drove. It was nice to get away from the crazy city and drive through apple country. When we were finally driving into the mountains, we got stuck behind a school bus on its after-school route. 24 children later, we were on our way.


We got to Fort Mountain State Park in Georgia and began setting up camp. My husband started getting the coals lit for dinner, and I strapped the youngest into the borrowed backpack, grabbed the three-year-old, and started setting up the tent and pack 'n play.

I was done before the coals were, so I took a few pictures of the boys on their first camping experience.




Then my husband started playing with the boys while I got dinner together (hobo dinners). They went on a walk to the lake and climbed rocks. All three boys were enjoying having some sort of yard to play in.


The boys had a hard time falling asleep. The youngest fussed and fussed, but finally fell asleep. The oldest had both a Nomis and an Ymme (pronounced Ima) story and still couldn't fall asleep. When my husband finally came to bed, we cuddled on our single pillow and foam mattress and listened to every sound, waiting for the black bears (that we had been warned by the rangers were especially active in October) to show up at our camp. In the end, we kept listening to acorns and leaves falling until finally we dozed. But since we were not in our own home, the youngest woke up to nurse four times and the oldest woke up on his own and was scared. He ended up getting another story and mama cuddling with him (until she got too cold outside of her sleeping bag and pulled him next to my bed so he could fall asleep [and stay asleep] on my arm). When we woke up it was raining, so we headed to the picnic area where they had a pavilion where my husband cooked breakfast and I started feeling nauseated because I didn't get enough sleep. The youngest fussed in the backpack (like a mama's boy) because he wanted mama.

After breakfast, we packed up camp (with my husband doing most of the work [I still feel guilty for getting sick on our first camping trip]) and then, since I was finally feeling better, we decided to go ahead and hike to the stone wall. As you can see from the pictures, it was pretty foggy, so we didn't get to see the splendid view, but it was a nice hike.




This last picture is the oldest boy and my husband at the stone tower. We found it first, then we found the overlook, which for us overlooked fog. We never did find the stone wall. But we decided that was okay. The rain was still coming down and we had to hike back to the car.

Every time I do things like this, I remember how much I like it. I like hiking in the mountains; I like camping and seeing nature; I like spending time away from it all. (Singing: "I love the mountains; I love the rolling hills; I love the fountains; I love the daffodils; I love the fireside; when all the lights are low; boom-dee-ada, boom-dee-ada, boom-dee-ada, boom-dee-ah.")

After we were done hiking, we climbed back into the car and drove to Chatsworth, Georgia, where we ate lunch and let the oldest get some exercise before the next leg of our journey. He played hard and had fun.

Driving home, we stopped at New Echota State Historical Site. In the early 1800s it became the capital for the Cherokee Nation. It was from there that Georgia State and the Federal government rounded up the Cherokee and forced them on the trek to Oklahoma. It was nice to be reminded of the history (and to learn some of it). I do think that it is a sad moment in our nation's history, especially since Georgia and the federal government were acting against the law—the Supreme Court had ruled in favor of the Cherokee.

The boys again had a ball running around as if the whole world was their yard.

Driving home, we got caught in traffic, but it was great fun. [Husband: BS] Everyday since then, the oldest has asked at least once, "Mama, can we go camping again?" or "Are we going camping?" And my husband and I mediated our concerns—the boys are young and have to be constantly watched, but if we get them used to camping, they won't wake up as many times during the night and will enjoy it all the more as we keep going. That's right, we will go camping again, maybe not until Spring Break, but again before we move.