Food for thought

The sun was streaming in through the open windows. Christmas music was playing in the background as the boys prayed over their bowls of cold cereal and I busied myself in the kitchen making baked french toast for our Sunday morning brunch. And in that moment I felt all sorts of grown up. Like this is what moms do.  Like this is the kind of mom I always wanted to be. I love the memories I have of my mom in her apron, kneading dough for homemade bread, preparing the roast for Sunday dinner, baking cinnamon rolls while staying with us after I had a baby. And she will always own the peach cobbler. I just wonder what memories my kids will have of me. Undoubtedly they'll remember that sometimes I fart during family prayers, or that I eat their candy and blame it on Ryder, or that I like to pinch their little bums if they're walking up the stairs in front of me, or that I like to sing loud and off pitch to every song on the radio, or that I put on sweats and pull back my bangs every day at 5:00 pm. But, among other things, I also hope they'll remember me in the kitchen. I hope years from now they'll crave my dinner rolls. I hope my chocolate chip cookies are the best they've ever had. I hope just one bite of a cinnamon roll will bring back a flood of Christmas morning memories. There is such a sense of satisfaction that comes with filling (not to be confused with feeling) the bellies of those I love. And that's it for today's deep thoughts. But mostly I just liked this picture and felt the need to write something poetic to go with it. But really I did have those thoughts. And now I'm done. Except for this one last thing, because really....

Swinter 

It's swinter, or wummer (a nod to all you Phineas and Ferb fans, ya feelin' me?). I decided that I don't like how they have everything good in life packed into a few short months...Thanksgiving, beach days, Christmas, ice cream cones, New Years, flip flops...and then the rest of the year is nothing but a long cold winter and all of the sudden drinking hot cocoa by the fire just doesn't seem so cozy and festive when it's like July.  It's so hard to get into the Christmas spirit when summer vacation is two weeks away, but we had just the remedy. A trip to the Christmas tree farm. There were pretty slim pickins, but we found a gem.  It's perfectly odd and oddly perfect. Ya know, it has a "sweet spirit".

This tree was the runner up, but I had to include it because of the soul hug Ryder is giving me.  And he was actually being really rotten that day so I love it even more.

Maddox was disappointed that he couldn't chop the tree down himself. He was dying to get his paws on an ax, all Paul Bunyan like.

I always had a little Christmas tree envy every time I saw someone driving down the road with one tied to their roof.  You give them a wink, a nod and that look that says, "I know what you're doing tonight..." Kind of like when you see a car with "just married" painted on the window. Except for nothing like that.

Every year I try to make the whole tree decorating thing so festive. And every year I can't understand why the kids aren't dying to help me divide fake Christmas tree branches into their respective color coded piles. We did it right this year.  And since we didn't ship any ornaments or decorations we made our own. Christmas music playing, snippets of paper flying every where, the constant click of the stapler, fighting over the three crayons we own, smiles spread across their faces as they show off their creations and for the first time not caring that the tree didn't look perfect. Perfection is overrated. Actually, this is probably the most perfect tree we've ever had. It embodied everything good about the season. Maddox did not waste any time but went straight to work on the star before the tree was even untied from the roof. Which of course enraged the other kids that he got to make the star.  So we decided our tree would have three stars. Why not.

It only took me like 10 guesses to figure out that this was a gingerbread man. Poor kid with only a red crayon and no brown. Crap project problems.

I had to laugh at Kylie's "sweet as" ornament. It's a phrase they use here a lot.  She's also stapling (yes, I said stapling) on one with "balloons for the children of the world". Now a nod to Madagascar 3 fans. Three dvd's to our name problems.

Grandma Judy came back from Queenstown (where she said it was so bloomin' hot she had to pull over and do a "nudey Judy" and went skinny dipping in the lake on the side of the road. Twice. What is not to love about Grandma Judy?) and brought over some bags of decorations, because that's just the sort of thing Grandma Judy does. So now it looks like an elf threw up an entire meal of tinsel all over our tree, but whatever. It's got character.

Maddox found this heart for me in the snowflake carnage. Of course he did. And why yes, that is a duvet cover that doubles as a picnic blanket and a tree skirt, thank you for noticing.

And then the boys did their part to bring the Christmas spirit. The way Ryder's belly spills over his little cut-offs...I die.

I'm going out on a limb when I say this, but not only do I not like carving pumpkins but I loathe gingerbread houses too. They don't taste good, the kids get frustrated because they always fall apart, they take forever, they make a huge mess and then for the rest of the month I'm stuck with gingerbread houses cluttering up my counter tops. So in the spirit of everything home made I attempted gingerbread men for the first time and I like this like 152 times more better.  It was perfect for the kids and they actually tasted good. Not a single toe or finger was left uneaten.

We were baby-sitting Julie's kids this night and after we made cookies we were invited to a real Samoan bbq. I mean this thing was legit. We're talking traditional Samoan dress, loud music, lots of flowers, lots of dancing, lots of huge smiles and welcoming hugs, not a lick of English spoken, banquet tables filled with whole roasted pigs and fish and food I couldn't pronounce. So you can imagine how silly I felt when I showed up with my little plate of chocolate chip cookies. Don't mind me, I'll just squeeze these in between the snouts and hoofs. It was quite the amazing party and we were so grateful they invited us to be a part of it. But you know how those Samoan parties go, or maybe you don't because I didn't. Two hours into it and they hadn't even started serving the food. With seven starving kids I left Jason to enjoy the roasted pig while the kids and I picked up pizza on the way home then settled in for a Christmas movie and the best caramel popcorn. Why did no one tell me that the secret to the perfect caramel popcorn was to bake it? Kylie didn't believe me when I said it was homemade. When it's homemade it's a compliment to say it tastes store bought, but when it's store bought it's a compliment to say it tastes homemade. Go figure. It was quite the day. We were exhausted by the end but so glad to finally get some Christmas cheer up in here.

(The stockings were taped by the chimney with care, and thumbtacked. And one earring in lieu of a thumbtack. I tell you, we are bare bones over here when it comes to supplies. Or when it comes to anything. And that would be the top of the tree that we had to cut off so that it would fit inside. Two fer one, I tell ya)

third wheels and pantyhose

Jason's Christmas work party was held at a fancy restaurant on top of a fancy mountain that you had to take a fancy gondola to get to. I had big plans to make-out in that gondola until a co-worker asked if he could hop in with us.  Which ended up being fine, I guess since otherwise we wouldn't have gotten a chance to discuss in great lengths how his legs got scratched from hiking. I was disappointed, though, that we missed out on the perfect selfie opportunity with us kissing as the sun set over the city below us. It might not be a stretch if I say I lay in bed at night envisioning the perfect photo scenarios. And this was one of them. Oh well, there's always next year. Before we left we had a very serious talk about panty hose. Jason thought all the girls would be wearing them, and although I understood his voice of concern about my leg's unsightly shade of white these days, I knew they only wore pantyhose at work. And that's only if they're over 60.  But Jason is a man of few requests so I obliged. Let's just say I won the bet and once we got there I immediately went to the bathroom and stripped them off.  Which was all fine until I came home and realized they were no longer in my purse. Somebody went home with quite the white elephant gift when either  a) a co-woker found them under our table and thought we were getting kinky  b) a co-worker found them after we left the photo booth and thought we were getting kinky  c) a co-worker found them after we left the gondola and thought we were getting kinky. None of these scenarios look very good for Jason. Unless of course we spin it the other way and they all look REALLY good for Jason. We'll just wait and see if he's met with disgust or high fives when he goes back to work.

Rugby 

I asked Jayden if he likes football or Rugby better. He didn't hesitate to tell me that football is his LIFE. Unfortunately the only football he gets here is when he streams the BYU games with dad on Sunday mornings (I must say with the time change it's nice to not have our Saturdays dominated by BYU games).  But Rugby is a pretty good alternative.  I love that he gets to learn a new sport and I love that they are all getting exposed to new things here. Today they learned how to play cricket at school. Next week Kylie gets to go sailing with her class. Next year Jayden's class gets to go to a surf camp. They are just now finishing up 2 weeks of swim lessons that they had during school which leaves me to wonder just how much time they have left for academics, but one thing is for sure, they are getting a very well rounded education.  The thing about Jayden is that he wants to be the best at whatever he does, which can be a really good thing or a really bad thing. I love that he has worked so hard to excel at a sport that many of these kids have been playing for years.  And I do love seeing him in action.  I look at him every day, but sometimes I don't really see him. As I look at these pictures I realize just how tall and skinny he has gotten. Those cute little arms. I'm noticing the freckles scattered across his nose. I see a strong resemblance to my cousin Jesse when I look at his profile. I forgot that he has that cute dimple. His hair is getting darker. Small changes that mean he's growing up. Sometimes I miss that little boy who would tell me he wished that he could go inside his body to see how it worked, who I would eat popcorn and play games with every wednesday after preschool, who would have me sing the Thomas theme song as his bedtime lullaby, who I would take to Fry's for donuts as our special treat.  But I love seeing the young man he's growing into. And he'll still let me kiss and love on him. Even in public. And he scored two trys (touchdowns) just for me.  Mama's boys for the win.

Thanksgiving 

I had a moment. But I think anyone who is spending their first holiday so far away from family deserves to have a moment. We were excited to share this holiday with a few close friends, neighbors and our American missionaries, but everyone was so excited and began inviting moms, brothers, daughters, grandkids, boyfriends and people I had never even met.  While all of our family would be gathered around the table with those they loved, I would be spending $90 on a turkey to feed almost complete strangers. So I had a moment. But what good is it to have a grandma Judy around if not to talk some sense into you.  She's never celebrated a Thanksgiving before but she understood the true meaning better than I did. It's a time of celebration, it's a time of sharing, it's a time of gratitude, it's a time of growing closer to those around you.  We would have plenty of food, we would make room for everyone and we would have a night to remember. And we did just that. We ended up with around 35 people, an eclectic mix of missionaries, fellow expats, neighbors, church friends and everyone in between. The level of excitement leading up to the big day was tangible. My neighbors put so much thought and effort into making this day special. They would come to me for my approval on dishes they wanted to make, they bought a new suit coat for the occasion, they scoured pinterest for the best way to present the turkey, Judy adopted that turkey like it was her own little baby and they even surprised me by setting up this gazebo with twinkly lights while I was out. And of course trying pumpkin pie for their first time ever was on the top of everyone's bucket list (no pressure). I was determined that the lack of Libby's and the lack of big orange pumpkins wasn't going to stop me.  I did my research and found that the NZ crown pumpkin would be the next best alternative and with the help of my chef and possibly the world's dullest knife ever we eventually got that thing chopped, cooked, skinned and pureed on the night before the big day.

One nice thing about creating our own holiday is that we could pick what day to do it on. We decided on Friday since it wasn't a school night and also so that we would be celebrating on the same day as the states. So while the kids were at school and Jason was at the office, I went to work.  I missed, like really missed, being in a busy kitchen with my mom, sisters, sister in laws, grandma, cousins or at least just a friend. Even Ryder ditched me for Curious George and a nap on the couch, so it was just me and a little Christmas mix on Pandora. Which actually ended up being really nice and enjoyable in its own sort of way.

I had a major crust emergency (where is Crisco flavored butter sticks when you need them? Oh yeah, thousands of miles away sitting on a walmart shelf), the mashed potatoes were a fail (all potatoes are not created equal and I missed those russets sitting at a walmart near you next to the Crisco), the oranges and cranberries we stuffed in the turkey to make it more moist did not make for the best gravy drippings, poor Ryder was suffering from a major diaper rash because somebody was too busy making pies, stuffing (Margaret, I think of you every time!), rolls, fruit pudding, potatoes, gravy and turkey to remember to change his diaper and poor Kylie was doing some sort of flip and hit her head on some sort of pole (to this day I'm still not exactly sure what happened) and ended up with a huge goose egg resulting in her curled up on my bed for a good hour in the depths of misery and endless woe, determined that she was going to be left mentally disabled.  So not everything went off without a hitch, but the stuff that really mattered was flawless.

Ryder is thankful for "Julie mom". I am too.

The food...oh the food. Judy was right, we ended up with so much food, which is never a bad thing. Those Kiwis couldn't wrap their brains around sweet potatoes with marshmallows as a side dish and then a pie made out of a pumpkin as a dessert. I kept finding the sweet potatoes on the dessert table and the pie on the food table. And just to toot my own horn, the pumpkin pie was amazing. It was worth writing home about, literally. One of the guests went home and emailed all of his friends and family over seas to tell them that he had pumpkin pie for the first time and loved it.

Instead of going around the table and saying what we're grateful for, we had everyone write down three things they are grateful for then we put them in a hat and took turns guessing who the list belonged to. It was such a fun way to get to know everyone better and reflect on how truly blessed we really are.

The entire week before this was cold and rainy, we're talking winter coats and a roaring fire. Today was the only day on the 10 day forcast that had sun.  I'm not narcissistic enough to think that the sun came out just for our Thanksgiving dinner, but I do believe in tender mercies and was grateful for this one.  When Judy heard the weather was going to be nice she insisted we had water balloons for the kids, because what is a Thanksgiving dinner without water balloons?

In this time of thanksgiving I have so much to be grateful for, this little family of mine and extended family overseas will always be at the very top of my list, but tonight I am grateful that our New Zealand family is close to the top of that list as well.