New Year's Eve in Hooper!

For the last several years we've spent New Year's Eve in Hooper with my family because we don't see them at Christmas. This year was no exception. I love this tradition. I don't know how many more years it will last, as my kids get older and might potentially want to spend New Year's Eve with their friends instead of their family. But we'll embrace it and enjoy it while they all still want to be with us.

This year was a little different because my mom and Kerry decided to reserve the church building all day on New Year's Eve so that the grandkids (21 of them total, but not everyone came) would have space to run around and be loud without driving us all crazy or destroying my mom's house. They did the church party from 10am-5pm and that way if anyone had other things they wanted to do NYE (like Jackson and Tanner who usually like to go hang with friends) they could and still have an opportunity to come be with the family too.

We had a rough night Monday night, Oslo was up several times to eat, and Cal had a very traumatic and emotional wetting of the bed which necessitated a 4am bath and, apparently in his mind, a lot of screaming. So we did not meet the 8am departure from Elk Ridge time that would have put us to the church in Hooper at 10am. Oh well. We rolled in around 11:30. But that's ok. We stopped in American Fork to drop off a table saw to Kelly, and to see their 3 day old baby Isaac Mathew, who is tiny and adorable. I forget how tiny they are when they are first born. Ozzy looks like a giant comparatively and he's only 5 months old.

Anyways, they had buffet tables set out at the church for food, and lots of planned games. And it was really fun, and I was super grateful that the kids had the opportunity to run around and play with their cousins, that the adults got to play games too and chat, and that there was no screen time available. Yay!

After games at the church, we headed back to Gramma Tam's for the rest of the night, because we were staying over. Stephanie and her two girls were staying over also. The adults decided that we were pretty gamed-out for the moment, so we put on a movie downstairs for the kids, and we all went upstairs and just decompressed for a minute.

After the movie, some of my younger kids were falling apart (it was about 10pm at this point) so we decided to do a mock midnight. We got out the Martinelli's sang Auld Lang Sine, and toasted to 2020. Then the kids got to pick out pots and pans and go outside and bang them. Cal was way into it, haha!

Then we put everyone to bed except Lincoln and Ivan and Stephanie's girls. I felt a little bad that I didn't let Adelia stay up. She really wanted to. But she was falling apart worse than some of the younger ones, and I knew if she stayed up it would all just go downhill from there. Next year she'll be 10, and then she can stay up until midnight. 

Aaron had a headache, so he actually went to bed also. Mom and Steph and Brighton and Lily and Lincoln and Ivan and I played a card game called Trash. It was fun, kind of slow paced and not too intense, just what we needed. Papa Kerry didn't want to play, so he turned on Indiana Jones, and pretty soon my boys lost interest in the card game and got sucked into the Arc of the Covenant. *sigh* Oh well. 

Around 11:50pm Oslo got up crabby and wanting to eat. So I had to stop playing and go feed him. I was on the couch breastfeeding when the real New Year came. Everyone else had another glass of Martinellis and then pretty quickly disappeared to bed after that. I think everyone was pretty tired. 

So Ozzy and I hung out in the quiet living room. All the lights were off except for the Christmas Tree. I couldn't help thinking that even though I was exhausted, and would have rather been asleep, that sitting there on the couch snuggling my baby was a pretty peaceful way to ring in the new year and the new decade. Maybe it was an omen that it was going to be a peaceful year. 

I pondered on what I want for myself this year, besides a lot more sleep. And I do want it to be peaceful. I have no idea how to achieve that, but I would like the frenzied feeling to back off a little bit. And that is going to take some intention on my part. Doing things intentionally. Slowing down intentionally. Analyzing the things we choose to do with intention, and being brave enough to let some things go. 

We did our family Sunday lesson this week and it was the intro to the Book of Mormon. I printed out a reading sheet for every member of our family, and it says, "I have read my scriptures every day in 2020!" The letters are block letters and each block is divided in such a way that there is a block for every day of the year. So every day that you read your scriptures you color in one block, and you can see how well you do for the year. We talked about how President Nelson promised us that if we would read the Book of Mormon these six things would happen:

1. You will be able to overcome temptations

2. Heavenly Father will help and inspire you

3. Reading the Book of Mormon will comfort you, make you strong, and cheer you up

4. You will feel closer to the Savior

5. You will make better decisions every day

6. Changes and miracles will begin to happen

On top of that, President Nelson promises: "I promise that as you ponder what you study in the Book of Mormon, the windows of Heaven will open, and you will receive answers to your own questions and direction for your own life." 

I feel like reading the Book of Mormon is going to be key to in making the decisions I need to make for our family about how to spend our time and what is and is not going to be beneficial for each member of it. So that's one goal for the new year, read the Book of Mormon every day. 

5 Months for Oslo

Ozzy Oso is five months old. He is a delight. That doesn’t mean he’s a perfect angel all the time, no one is. But I think it’s safe to say that he’s been a positive addition to our family. Everyone loves him. He loves watching everyone and being where they are. 

I’m still nursing him. *Pats myself on the back* He actually doesn’t like the bottle very much and will only take it if he’s desperate. So we’re actually nursing pretty much exclusively. 😳 That’s new for me. And I think five months might be my previous breastfeeding record, so it’s looking like we’ll probably knock that outta the water this go around.  We’ll see. 

He’s eating solids. Normally I wait as long as possible to introduce solids because, let’s be honest, it’s not very fun. It’s messy and you have to commit to it three times a day and it takes a long time. BUT Oslo was wanting to breastfeed ‘round the clock. So at the beginning of December I gave in and tried some bananas mixed with oatmeal. In the past when I’ve introduced solids, the baby usually gags the first time and throws everything up. Or can’t figure out how to swallow it and slobbers it all over the front of their shirt. Not Ozzy though. He WOLFED it down. I was astounded. 😂 He ate the entire package of bananas in his first sitting. And he was happy about it. Poor kid was probably starving or something. (Not really, he has been consistently gaining weight, and he’s pretty chubby.) He opens his mouth wide when he sees the spoon, and if I’m eating and not feeding him, he watches my spoon like a hawk. He’d probably snatch a bit of my dinner if he could manage it.  So, now we feed him two meals of solids a day and still do a lot of breastfeeding. He still wants to nurse a lot, but not like it was before. We’ll probably add in the third meal soon. 

At around four months we moved him out of the cradle and our room and into the crib in his room. That’s been nice. He still wakes up once or twice at night to eat though. Occasionally he’ll sleep through the night. But mostly he’s up around 4am to eat. 

He rolls over too. Back to front and front to back. But he still struggles with front to back a little bit. He scoots when he’s on his back, so if I lay his head in the middle of the crib, I usually come back to find him butting his head against the top of the crib. 

All the hair he had when he was born has fallen out, except for a few wispy pieces on top and the mullet on the back. But his new hair is filling in and it almost looks like it might be dark.  I mean it’s blonde, but it’s not a white blonde like Ollie’s or Cal’s and it’s not a golden blonde like everyone else’s. Wouldn’t it be fun if Oslo got dark hair like Aaron? Aaron’s hair was dark blonde as a baby but was dark dark brown by the time he was two or three years old. Whatever happens to his hair, it will be darling on him. 

He has very blue eyes. It’ll be interesting to see if they stay blue or if they turn hazel as he gets older. All my kids start with blue eyes. Lincoln’s turned hazel. Ivan’s stayed blue. Adelia’s turned hazel. I want to say Ollie’s are hazel 🤔(Yup, they are I just checked). Ruby’s are blue. And Cal’s are on their way to hazel. 

If I were trying to Type Oslo (remember Dressing Your Truth?) I’d say he’s most likely a T1 s4. T1 because of his personality and movement (he’s constantly moving), and s4 because his face has lots of parallel lines in it. Just as a quick refresher of the Types in our family: Aaron 2/3, Krystal 3/2, Lincoln 4/1, Ivan 4/3 (this is new, I used to think he was a 4/2, but I’ve since decided he’s a 4/3), Adelia 1/3, Oliver 2/1, Ruby 3/1, Cal 1/3, and Oslo 1/4. 

Christmas Day 2019

We have a rule that the kids can't come get us on Christmas morning until 8am or later. That seems harsh maybe, but seriously, it's soooooo needed. Especially when your baby doesn't give you the gift of a full night's sleep for Christmas. My kids are good sports about this, and I really appreciate it.

So at 8 am they were up and raring to go. Of course we had to pause for the obligatory shot at the top of the stairs photo. Then everyone got to come down and explore their stockings. I thought we did awesome on stockings this year. A couple fun little things for each person, a pack of gum, a chocolate orange, and that was it. Aaron usually has cause for accusing me of over-doing the stockings, but not this year. This year I got a compliment. Go me. Lincoln got a fire starting kit in his sock. Ivan got Inktense art sticks, Adelia and Ruby got necklaces and dancing ribbons, Ollie and Cal got foam swords, Ozzy got hats and socks and a baby teething stick. Aaron got two Audible books, Stardust and The Five Love Languages.

Everyone played with their trinkets while Aaron made breakfast and I fed Ozzy. We had a yummy oven puff pancakes with bacon and blender drink combo. Then we dug in to the presents.

Cal got a wavee board. He was thrilled. Ruby got a toy kitchen. Ollie got army guys and a snow scooter and a bug catching net. Adelia got her curtains and a book case for her room. Ivan got a skateboard. Lincoln got a dirt scooter. Aaron got a chain saw. And I got 2015's Blog Book published. Lincoln gave me a chocolate nativity and Adelia gave me a wreath and Ivan gave me a bag of peppermint candies. I love seeing what the kids come up with to give us and to give each other. That's one of my favorite parts of Christmas. And they earn the money on their own, and insist that they give to each one of their siblings, instead of drawing names or something.

It also snowed last night! So we woke up to a white Christmas, which was magical. And it kept snowing most of the day. Most of the kids went out to play in it, and built a snowman. Ozzy and I hung out in the living room and tried on his socks and his new baby teething toy. He's such a funny baby. He's getting a high chair for his present, but he won't be here for a few more days. He didn't seem to mind.

We had a liesurely day. Aaron put together Ruby's kitchen, and helped Adelia put her bookcase together. We got her curtains all put up, and her room looks so nice! It's really coming together to be a fun, usable, magical space for her.

And we had nowhere to be for dinner and it was glorious. I cooked a ham, and baked rolls, and we had au gratin potatoes and just enjoyed and relaxed and soaked up the day together, instead of rushing to be somewhere. It was PERFECTION. Seriously. I hope we can do it this way every year.

Christmas Eve 2019

Look at those beautiful blue eyes. Oslo, you handsome devil. Don't let him fool you, he's darling, but he didn't let me get a single thing done yesterday to prepare for the festivities of Christmas Eve today. Oh well.

Aaron took the day off today, so all was saved. :)

We were supposed to have a full house for dinner. We stay home every Christmas Eve and put on our Bethlehem dinner. We have an open-door policy for family and friends, that they are always welcome to come too. It's just my favorite tradition and I want to do it the way I want to do it, so we have it here and invite anyone to participate if they want to. So this year, we were supposed to be having Aaron's two brothers and their families, and Aaron's sister and her family, and Aaron'r parents.

A few day ago, Cal came down with a high fever, about 104. He had it for a few days, and Tylenol wasn't really helping. We took him in to the Dr to be tested for Strep. He does not have strep, and he does not have an ear infection. But he did wake up fever free a few days after, but with a really croup-y cough. Then on Sunday night Ruby woke up in the middle of the night throwing up. I was sure she had what Cal had and thought it was going to be another five day long illness. So Aaron called his family to warn them that there was a possibility that we'd have sick kids at our house on Christmas Eve, and they should maybe have a back up plan in mind. Well, as it turns out, Kelly and Esther also had sick kids at their house, and so did Stacey. And Ryan said that their son Ilo catches every germ he comes in contact with so they'd rather not risk it. And Aaron's parents were a maybe, depending on how the kids were doing Christmas Eve morning. So all the sudden, instead of lots of house guests, we were free and clear to just have a relaxing, slow paced Christmas Eve. I thought I was going to have to spend the whole day running around trying to get the house clean, but if no one was coming over, then the house didn't really matter.

And this morning all the kids woke up feeling perfectly healthy. So yay! Aaron decided last minute that he wanted to run to American Fork and buy a used snow scooter from a lady up there. Ollie really really really wanted a snow scooter, and we had decided that they were too expensive for what they were, and hadn't gotten it. Until Aaron found this used one for $15 and decided to go for it. So he and I took Oslo and Cal and drove up to American Fork and left Lincoln here to baby-sit the other kids. (Perks of having a 12 year old!!) It was a fun morning. We got the snow scooter, it's practically brand new, it's never even been ridden. The family was given one and they already had one, so it was out of the box, but pretty much basically new. Score!

On the way our from there, we passed a Costco. And I had Aaron stop, because the Costco in Spanish Fork hadn't had any salmon when I went there yesterday, and Salmon is the main dish in our Bethlehem dinner. We'd been going to stop at Smiths, but I knew I'd have to pay more for less salmon there. So when I saw Costco I knew we had to see if they had salmon. They did! And Aaron also decided while we were in Costco, that we really needed to get the kids jammies for Christmas Eve. (I had decided to forego that expense because I was running out of budget, but since we'd finished up the shopping, Aaron decided we could do jammies after all.) So we ran around like crazies trying to find the right sizes for all the people. Whew.

Then we stopped in at Aaron's parents house, because Debbie was hemming some curtains for underneath Adelia's bed, which is one of her Christmas presents. When they saw that Cal was healthy, they decided that they'd come for dinner after all.

After that quick stop, we went to the grocery store in Salem to pick up the rest of the food we needed for tonight and tomorrow. Then home again. We picked up the main level of the house. And I cooked the pocketbread while Aaron made pudding. We decided to switch up our pudding tradition, so instead of eating pudding for breakfast, we were going to have it after dinner, and whoever got the nut could pass out the wrapped jammies that evening. We figured this would take less time and be less chaotic than trying to make pudding Christmas morning and having a kid pass out all the Christmas day presents.

Chuck and Debbie got there just a few minutes before the salmon was finished cooking. So, good timing. We had an amazing dinner. I always love the Bethlehem dinner. Then we did the Nativity story. This year Adelia was Mary, Ollie was Joseph, Oslo was baby Jesus, Cal was an angel, Lincoln and Ivan were wisemen, Ruby was a sheep, Aaron was a shephard, Chuck was the narrator, Debbie was baby Jesus's baby sitter when he wasn't on set, and I was the photographer.

After that we opened presents from G&G Swan, had pudding (Ollie got the nut), opened jammies, had our music concert (Linc played songs on the piano, Ivan did Ukulele, Adelia did piano, and Chuck accompanied while we all sang carols and hymns.) And then it was jammies and bed for the kids.

Chuck reading The Grinch Who Stole Christmas

Aaron and I had mostly done all the wrapping, which was nice. We just had a few things to finish up.....like Ruby's kitchen that we had deliberately left until Christmas Eve because of the amount of space it would take up under the tree. Then we did the stockings and laid them out on the couches, and that was that.

Thoughts on Christmas From Elder Holland

I saw this story posted on Facebook yesterday, and it stayed with me through the day enough that I wanted to share it. It is Elder Jeffery R Holland speaking/writing telling about a Christmas he spent in the hospital with his dying father. I particularly loved the reminder to "Put your theology where your Christmas carols are." This plan is a beautiful one, all of it, the wonderful as well as the hard. But Elder Holland, as always, says it best....

The following is excerpted from Shepherds, Why This Jubilee?

On the evening of December 23, 1976, my father underwent surgery to relieve the effect of osteoarthritis in the vertebrae of his back. The surgery was successful, but near the conclusion of it he suffered a major heart attack. Eight hours later he suffered another one. From those two attacks he sustained massive damage to a heart that was already defective from an illness suffered in his youth. By the time we finally got to see him, wired and tubed and gray and unconscious, it was mid-morning on December 24, Christmas Eve. “Magnificent timing,” I muttered to no one in particular.

Pat and I stayed at his side all day, as much for my mother’s sake as for my father’s. He was not going to live, and at age 60 she had never had to confront that possibility in their entire married life. As evening came along, we took her to our home. . . . I gave my mother a blessing and convinced her to try to get some sleep. I stayed with Pat for a while, putting out a Christmas gift or two; then I told her to hold the family together—as she has done all of our married life—and I was going back to the hospital. . . .

At the hospital I sat and walked and read and walked and looked in on Dad and walked. He would not, in fact, recover from all this. I suppose everyone knew that, but the nursing staff were kind to me and gave me free access to him and to the entire hospital. A couple of the nurses wore Santa Claus hats, and all the nursing stations were decorated for the season. During the course of the evening I think I checked them all out, and sure enough, on every floor and in every wing it was Christmas.

You will forgive me if I admit that somewhere in the early hours of the morning I was feeling pretty sorry for myself. “Why does it have to be like this?” I thought. “Why does it have to be on Christmas?” Of all the times to lose your dad, did it have to be the time when dads are the greatest guys in the world and gifts for little boys somehow appear that, in later years, would be recognized to be well beyond the meager Holland budget? Lying under that oxygen tent was the most generous man I have ever known, a Kris Kringle to end all Kris Kringles, and by some seemingly cruel turn of cardiac fate it was Christmas morning and he was in the process of dying. In my self-pity it did not seem right to me, and I confess I was muttering something of that aloud as I walked what surely must have been every square inch of the public (and a fair portion of the private) space in that hospital.

Then and there—2:00 or 3:00 a.m. in a very quiet hospital, immersed as I was in some sorrow and too much selfishness—heaven sent me a small, personal, prepackaged revelation, a tiny Christmas declaration that was as powerful as any I have ever received. In the midst of mumbling about the very poor calendaring in all of this, I heard the clear, unbroken cry of a baby. It truly startled me. I had long since ceased paying attention to where I was wandering that night, and only then did I realize I was near the maternity ward; somewhere, I suppose, near the nursery. To this day I do not know just where that baby was or how I heard it. I like to think it was a brand-new baby taking that first breath and announcing that he or she had arrived in the world, the fact of which everyone was supposed to take note. . . .

“Jeff, my boy,” my Father in Heaven seemed to say with that baby’s cry, “I expected a little more from you. If you can’t remember why all of this matters, then your approach to Christmas is no more virtuous than the overcommercialization everyone laments these days. You need to shape up just a little, to put your theology where your Christmas carols are. You can’t separate Bethlehem from Gethsemane or the hasty flight into Egypt from the slow journey to the summit of Calvary. It’s of one piece. It is a single plan. It considers ‘the fall and rising again of many in Israel,’ but always in that order. Christmas is joyful not because it is a season or decade or lifetime without pain and privation, but precisely because life does hold those moments for us. And that baby, my son, my own beloved and Only Begotten Son in the flesh, born ‘away in a manger, [with] no crib for his bed,’ makes all the difference in the world, all the difference in time and eternity, all the difference everywhere, worlds without number, a lot farther than your eye can see.”

I can’t fully describe to you what happened to me that early yuletide morning, but it was one of the most revelatory Christmas experiences I have ever had. And it dawned on me that that could have been my young parents who were so happy that morning. I was a December baby, and my mother never wearied of telling me that that was her happiest Christmas ever.

Perhaps the joy they felt that day at my birth was to be inextricably, inseparably, eternally linked with my sorrow at their passing—that we could never expect to have the one without the other. It came to me in a profound way that in this life no one can have real love without eventually dealing with real loss, and we certainly can’t rejoice over one’s birth and the joy of living unless we are prepared to understand and accommodate and accept with some grace the inevitability—including the untimeliness—of difficulty and trouble and death. These are God’s gifts to us—birth and life and death and salvation, the whole divine experience in all its richness and complexity.

So there lay my dad, the great gift-giver, he who found bicycles and BB guns and presents of every kind somewhere. Now he was starting to make his way out of the world on Christmas Day, on the wings of the greatest gift ever given. I thought of another Father.

"For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life" (John 3:16).

True fathers and mothers were all alike, I realized; coming up with the best gifts imaginable at what is often terrible personal cost—and I am obviously not speaking of material gifts or monetary costs.

So I was mildly but firmly rebuked that night—by the cry of a newborn baby. I got a little refresher course in the plan of salvation and a powerful reminder of why this is “the season to be jolly,” and why any Christmas is a time of comfort, whatever our circumstances may be. In the same breath I was also reminded that life will not always be as cozy as “chestnuts roasting on an open fire” or an unending splendor while we stroll, “walking in a winter wonderland.” No, life will have its valleys and peaks, its moments for the fall and rising in the lives of all of God’s children. So now it is old Simeon’s joyful embrace of that little baby just before his own death that is one of the images I try to remember at Christmas.

I have repented since that night. In fact, I did some repenting there in the maternity ward. If you have to lose your dad, what more comforting time than the Christmas season? . . . These are sad experiences, terribly wrenching experiences, with difficult moments for years and years to come. But because of the birth in Bethlehem and what it led to they are not tragic experiences. They have a happy ending. There is a rising after the falling. There is life always. New births and rebirths and resurrection to eternal life. It is the joy of the stable—the maternity ward—forever.

“If thou hadst been here, my brother had not died,” (John 11:21) Martha said to him once, probably in the same tone of voice I had been using up and down the hallways of the hospital. “If that arthritis just had not required surgery, there wouldn’t have been any strain on his heart. If that conveyer belt had just been shifted a little, it wouldn’t have started that fire. If there just hadn’t been a small patch of ice on that particular stretch of road so close to the Colorado River. . . .” And on and on and on. Jesus has one answer for us all—one answer to all the “whys” and “what ifs,” all the “would haves” and “could haves” and “should haves” of our journey.

Looking sweet Martha firmly in the eyes, he said for all . . . to hear:

"I am the resurrection, and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: and whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die" (John 11:25–26). . . .

Of this witness I am a witness. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Dancing Del

It's the Christmas season, so of course that means concerts and recitals galore. Adelia is on a ballroom dance team this year, and has been enjoying it so far. This month she had two different events. The first one was a service-performance at a senior center in Orem. And the second was her winter rehearsal. She loved being in costume and getting to wear make-up and hanging out with all her friends backstage. 

 The make-up thing, ha! What a nightmare. Have you ever tried to put mascara on a 9-year-old? Have you ever tried to explain, to a nine year old, the very delicate art of wearing lipstick and not smearing in from hell to breakfast? Oi. Someone please tell me that she'll learn. I know she will. In the mean time, I think it would be easier to defuse a bomb in the back of a moving vehicle than it is to apply her make up for her. #dancemomproblems I guess.....except I'm thee worst, most inexperienced dance mom around. Oh well. Del is darling and she's doing something she loves, so we'll figure it all out together.

Christmas Choir Concert

Ollie and Adelia are singing with the Little Creek Singers choir this year. Adelia sang with them last year, and Ollie started up this year. They are adorable. I wasn't sure if Ollie would like it or not, he sings really well and loudly in Primary, but has never expressed a desire to join the choir. But, he really enjoys it. He asks me every day if today is choir day. So I'm going to venture that he is liking it. Both kids did a good job, and I was proud of them.

Ruby Turns 5

 Today we are celebrating my favorite gemstone, Miss Ruby Aveline. She is named after her mama, her Gramma Tam, her Great-Granny Jan, and her Great-Great-Grandma Roberts. This year was so similar to the year she was born because Thanksgiving was so late. I remember being pregnant and desperately hoping she would decide to come on Thanksgiving day because Aaron had the whole weekend off from work. She didn't, she waited for December 1st. It works our though, because her birthday is about as far away from Christmas as you can get and still be born in December, and usually it's at least a week after Thanksgiving.

I can't believe she is five years old already. Some of her favorite things include soccer, swimming, singing, her rope ladder that goes to her "yink bed" (her loft bed), the color green, Oslo, and dressing up. She asked me today when I was going to buy her a pair of high-heeled shoes! I never know what is going to come out of her mouth. About 20 days ago she asked how many days it was until her birthday, and that's when the count down began. Every morning she would wake up and say, "Today I have 17 days until it's my birthday." When it was her turn to say the prayer she would say, "I'm thankful that there are only 8 days until my birthday." And so on. She just kept track in her head, and it was adorable.

It was Sunday today, and she was excited about that because they sang to her in Primary. She also go to go to the Bishop's office and get a Hershey's candy bar. She loves Sundays, and going to Primary, and her Primary teachers. She loves singing time, and she is a super loud singer. It makes me get the giggles every time, because when she knows the words she belts it out, but then if she doesn't she's quiet. So in some songs she only knows every third word, or a phrase here and there, but she isn't afraid to only sing those bits at top volume. She has a beautiful voice too.

She's been telling me for weeks now, that she wants a mint chocolate cake and mint chocolate chip ice cream to go with it. She also wanted salmon as her birthday day dinner, with rolls and broccoli. So that's what we did. She wanted to help make the cake. So we got out all the ingredients, and I was all set to let her help me, but then Oslo got fussy and wanted to eat, and Aaron was taking a nap on the couch. So I said we had to wait a minute while I fed Ozzy. Ivan jumped right in and said he's help Ruby make her cake. And he did. He measured all the ingredients and let Rue poor them into the bowl. Together they got everything just right, so all I had to do when I got back was poor the batter into the pans and stick the pans in the oven. I'm so grateful for my bigger kids when they want to be helpful without asking. It makes life so much easier.

Grandma and Grandpa Swan came over for dinner. Since it was also fast Sunday, we ate a little earlier and that turned out to be a good thing. The salmon was good, but the cake stole the show. :) It's a peppermint chocolate cake with peppermint chocolate ganache frosting and glaze, topped with crushed candy canes. 

For presents, Aaron and I gave her a teepee with little star light that light up. It's supposed to fit under her loft bed, but when she got it out of the box, I realized I had measured it wrong and it is too tall! But Aaron thinks he can cut the poles down and make it work, so she'll have a nice cozy reading or playing spot in her room. I've been working really hard since we moved into our house 2 years ago, to make the kids' bedrooms places where they will enjoy spending time, like little havens from the rest of the house. Ruby also got a piece of play silk, which is a dress up item, and a wooden birthday cake that cuts into pieces to be served. She loves playing chef, and currently has been playing with food that Ivan made out of paper for her. She also got 3 Mercy Watson books, which are her favorite ones to check out from the library right now.

Anyways, I did my best to make sure that she felt loved and had a good day. I think she did. We are super glad that she is part of our family.