Latest Headline : "Blog-Slacker Attempts Redemption with Lotsa Pictures" (Lotsa lotsa pictures.)

Here's a giant stack of pictures documenting many of our holiday activities. Believe it or not, it's not all of them. But for some reason, Blogger is being a booger and won't let me add more to this post. I guess I'll have to do a "Part II Pre-Christmas". As usual, December was crazy-busy, but in a good way, packed full of family parties, ward parties, letters to Santa, keeping guard on our behavior which was under the watchful eye of Mistletoe, our magical elf, and even Carson's birthday (which will honor my blog with its own post soon).
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WARD PAR-TAY!

We love our ward! Everyone is so warm and fun. It's such a great feeling to know you have the type of ward family that will be there if you need them. Our activities committee did a spectacular job on the program (kudos to Heather!), the dinner, the decorations (the tables wrapped as gifts was so clever!), and the "guest of honor" was of course the highlight of the evening. Just before the party, we opened an exciting package from Vernal...Grandma K. sent up festive socks that really "lit up" our ward party! (The ankle sported a figure that lit up each time you moved...very techno!)







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TRIMMING THE TREE

My favorite part about decorating the tree is looking at it afterwards and enjoying how bottom-heavy it is...everything on the lower half, some branches sporting 2-3 decorations at a time!



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DECORATING COOKIES

Our Christmas Eve is so full now of treasured traditions, that trying to squeeze in one more of cookie decorating felt "too much" to me. However, I wasn't ready to give it up entirely either. So we compromised and fit it in during the weeks leading up to Christmas. This was Carson's first year. See his cookie below? The one with more sprinkles than dough???



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LETTERS TO SANTA

This year was especially fun, because Wyatt can write his own letter. He still struggles with spelling, so I transcribed what he wanted to say on a separate piece of paper, which he then used to help him know in what order to write his alphabet letters. Carson did some very fancy scribbling. I'm sure Santa knows how to decipher toddler-code.
"This year I've tried hard to be good. Sometimes I'm a little naughty and make mistakes like, not sharing. But some of the good things I've done are taking care of toys. I'd be very grateful if you could bring me a firetruck toy. My favorite thing about Christmas is the tree. Love, Wyatt."

"I've been very good this year. Could you bring me a Hannah Montana Style Head. Then we will bring you some cookies and milk. Thank you for the Elf. Does he tell you we are good and nice. My favorite part of Christmas is Jesus. What is your favorite part of Christmas? Thank you for my cash register last year. Love, Halle Taft."

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OUR NEWEST TRADITION, MISTLETOE, THE ELF

Dixie gave us our newest tradition...it comes in a book called The Elf on the Shelf. It's an adorable little story that tells about the 7" elf you find in the back of the book. Every night, he magically goes to the North Pole and reports your behavior to St. Nick. In the morning, you find he has returned, sitting in a new spot each day. You can't touch him! Or he'll lose his magic. I love Christmas. Parents have such leverage. Don't want to buy your kid that bag of candy they keep begging for as you wait in the check-out line? You no longer sound like the mean mommy saying, No. Instead you simply state, "Put it on your wishlist" and your children sigh in defeat as accept your answer. Don't want to expend the energy and emotion required to referee the latest sibling rivalry or argument? Simply remind them that Santa and his elves are watching and they'd better be good. For parents everywhere, it doesn't get any better than this. We named our elf Mistletoe and he was anywhere in our house that the kids couldn't reach...on top of cabinets, light fixtures, the tree, the entertainment center, you name it, he was there! Although, one day he was a little lower, on a decorative easel in the front room. Halle accidentally knocked him down. Oh, the tragedy! There was weeping. Wailing. Gnashing of teeth. See below for the details.






So see below? Here he sat when he was "accidentally" knocked from his precarious perch. I was actually very grateful for this experience. You see, at Carson's birthday, I committed the cardinal sin of absent-mindedly talking "grown-up" talk about Santa in front of non-grown-up ears. (GASP!) It's one of those moments when something slips out of your mouth, then realizing your children are still in the room, you are left wondering, "Did they catch that? Have I ruined their Christmas innocence?" At the time, the kids didn't say anything, so I had hope. And yet I was skeptical, as not much gets past Halle. I was sick about it, especially since I knew Halle's time of pure and undoubted Christmas faith would not last long, now that she's 7 and in school. It was only a matter of time before some half-wit school chum spilled the beans. The sacred Christmas beans. Over the next week, I observed her, and although her words and behavior would indicate she still believed, at times she seemed over-dramatic about it (surprise, surprise) and I couldn't help but wonder if she was just putting on a show. Then this happened. Her reaction, her tears, her anguish over "touching" Mistletoe and possibly causing his magic to go away, the possibility of being put on Santa's naughty-list (yes, she specifically said that) was obviously real and overwhelming to her. Inside, I was jumping for joy! She believes! She believes! I'm not the worst mother in the world and I haven't spoiled it--she still believes! I gave her a hug and assured her that Santa knows accidents happen and that if she felt that badly about it, perhaps when she came home from school she could write Santa a letter apologizing and explaining what happened. Although she still sniffled with concern, this seemed to appease her and she went on her merry way. When she walked through the door after school, what's the first thing she says? "I'll do my homework later, after I write Santa a note." Now...in the mean time, I needed to get Mistletoe back up on the easel. I kept waiting for Wyatt to go upstairs so I could simply pick him up, but Wyatt was too anxious. "How are we going to put him back? We can't touch him, Mommy! Oh, no! What are we going to do?" To keep up the charade, I had to go as far as to get out the plastic salad tongs. We picked up Mistletoe, about as effectively as the claw machine at the arcade, and after several attempts, successful returned him to his watchful spot on the easel. Halle left her letter with Mistletoe, who miraculously took it with him on his nightly journey to the Norht Pole. All is well, all is well.

Someday when they are grown, they're going to love hearing this story.