"If women don't find you handsome ...

" ... they should at least find you handy."

So ends the campy -- but funny --  "Red Green" TV show that Jeff and I sometimes catch on Saturday nights. I'm lucky to say I've been married for 16 years to a man I consider both!

Compared to the many projects Jeff has tackled in our home, this one's small stuff. But because it shows his unwillingness to bend to convention, and his follow-through when given a challenge, I love it all the more.

For my birthday Jeff surprised me by coming home with a 20-by-24 portrait of our family. Gorgeous! Huge! Turns out, though, that 20-by-24 is not a standard frame size. We learned this after shopping several stores. That left the option of custom framing, of course. After getting a couple of bids for that, Jeff decided he'd just make a frame himself.

And he did.

Thanks, Jeff! It means a lot to me, as do you.

Finding Jack Frost

"Mom!" "Mom, come look outside!" Elise and James said in turn. "We found Jack Frost."

"He was here ... "

"and here ... "

"This way, Mom!"

"Look! We even found his face!"

And so now I ask you: 

Do you see it? Do you see it?

Do you wish you had the imagination of a child again?

This just in ...

Another real-time post. Elise, who can sometimes (sometimes?) be a little overbearing just cornered James and asked, "What game do you want to play?"

His response: "Ignore James."

----

While I'm at it, here's a week of laughs that I intended to post earlier this month when they happened, but didn't.

1. Kyle turned on iTunes on the computer in the same room where I was visiting with family. "Kyle," I asked, "Could you please turn that down?"

"But Mo-om (all of you know that two-syllable delivery), it's already up as high as it will go."

Teenage logic at work!

2. Emma was slow to wake one morning. "Emma," I called from her doorway. "It's time to get up."

She lifted herself up on her elbows. "What's a snork?"

"A snork?"

"Yeah. I just had one in my dream."

"Well, I don't know what a snork is. You need to get up. Come on, Emma, it's time to get up!"

"I know," she said with airy indignity, "that's what I'm doing in my dream!" And she rolled over and pulled the blanket tighter.

3. I took the kids to the grocery store's offering of free pictures with Santa. Kyle was with Jeff, and Emma considered herself too old, so I did the outing while she was at ballet class so as not to embarrass her. Later I told her she should have come with us, that there were several older students there, too. One woman waited in line in front of us, and she didn't even have any kids with her.

"Really?" Emma mulled this over. "How old was she?"

"My age."

Afterward Elise confided in the other room, "Mom, that woman was NOT 38. She was only 30."

4. I helped James and his friend Jacob build a fort of blankets and chairs, then I delivered them lunch inside. When James announced, "Mom, you are the nicest mom I've ever met!" I was riding high.

While nibbling on my own lunch I heard: (James) "My mom is 70 percent nice." (Jacob) "Oh, yeah? My mom is a thousand percent nice."

Should I over-analyze a kindergartener's grasp of math?

AND FINALLY ...

5. I was tickled when Samuel recognized a favorite book character in artwork at the library. "Look, Mom! It's Day-bid." (from David Shannon's "No, David") Then Samuel added, "Sett-o down!"

I had to look it up when we got home. Sure enough, that's the text. "Settle down!"

Christmas message

I had to give a talk in church today, and I told my mom I would post my remarks here.

Under Christmas trees in homes all over our neighborhood sit packaged gifts -- wrapped presents awaiting just the right time to be opened. Some of the gifts are probably immaculately wrapped, with color-coordinated paper and sparkling ribbon and matching tags. Others are probably more like those in my household -- a little clumsily put together -- but they all reflect a certain amount of thought and love. We wouldn't want any of these gifts to go unopened.

We give presents this season partly because that's what the Wise Men did upon finding young Jesus. It also reminds us, of course, of Christ's wonderful gift to us: the atonement. That's why I celebrate.

I've always believed in Jesus Christ. I've always acknowledged the miracle of his resurrection. I've always believed he made it possible for man to live again with Heavenly Father.

And yet, for many years, even as I tried to do what was right, I did not personalize the atonement. It was something I read about in the scriptures and learned about at church, but it was for everyone else. Not me. My testimony then, I realize, was akin to telling Jesus, "Oh, thank you for the present!" but never actually opening it.

Then I had a period in my life where I was discouraged over many mistakes I had made. Through deep soul-searching and prayer, I opened the atonement. Tried it on. Wore it. Used it. It was the perfect size. It was just what I needed. And I can open it again and again.

I am so grateful for that time in my life because those experiences, and the depth of my feeling, gave me a more sure knowledge of Christ's love for us, and for me.

I pray we can use this time of year to more fully embrace the atonement. I hope we can follow the words from the hymn* and cast out our sins so Christ can enter in and Be born in us today.*


*reference to the choir singing "O Little Town of Bethlehem," verse 5

No Lladro here

Star Navigation System comes standard.
I don't know whether I should be worried about the placement of the manger, or glad the wise man arrived safely.

(Wow, I just had an epiphany. Is that why the OnStar car folks chose the name they did?)

December dusk

White

Araceli and Elise

White is the way I'll always remember Elise's baptism day. Two absolutely beautiful little girls in white dresses. Two fathers worthy to perform the sacred ordinance. The soft, but deep gift of snow. Family who showered us with support and nary a complaint of their white-knuckle drives to get home.

I've taken Elise to several of her Primary classmates' baptisms this year to prepare her for her own experience. I've marveled how the weather on many of those days was an exact match, a striking visual aid to this* Primary song:

I like to look for rainbows whenever there is rain

And ponder on the beauty of an earth made clean again.

I want my life to be as clean as earth right after rain.

I want to be the best I can and live with God again.

I know when I am baptized my wrongs are washed away

And I can be forgiven and improve myself each day.

I want my life to be as clean as earth right after rain.

I want to be the best I can and live with God again.

(Children's Songbook p. 103)

I learn so much when nature reflects my spiritual stretches. This time Heavenly Father taught me through the trials another family is weathering. A 16-year-old girl died this week in a car accident not far from our home. The news broke my heart.

I did not know how sharply this tragedy would penetrate me until I was notified Friday that our scheduled Saturday afternoon baptism would have to be moved to 8 a.m. to accommodate the girl's funeral in the same building. Amidst my genuine sorrow for her family I was also stressed and initially confused that no one saw the duplication of scheduling earlier, which only made me feel worse for feeling that way. I was happy to do what I could. Oh, how I ache for this family!

I was worried about the hardship this time change would create for our family to be able to attend, many of whom live nearly two hours away. Turns out this wasn't even an issue; they didn't hesitate to say they'd be there no matter what. They all expressed concern for the young girl's loved ones. Thank you, family. We love you!

My amazing friend Circe** was in the same boat as us in trying to scrabble new baptism plans. I'm so glad it was her that I got to do this with. We got to combine our planned programs into one. We laughed about having to change our dinner menus for the after gatherings to something more breakfast-friendly.

And then in all seriousness I said, "The only thing that doesn't have to change is the baptism prayer because the ordinance is always the same."

I realized early on that this perceived hassle was actually a gift. It boosted my testimony, helped me see what matters most. I've pondered on the importance of baptism today more than any other. I know that this young girl's family will have a chance to see her again someday. I pray they can be thus comforted. Just like Elise's Grandma Hatch reminded us in her talk, I know that I'll be able to see my brother Ben again. I know that my dear little Elise today took an important step this very day to be able to return to her home with Heavenly Father. Please don't make it be soon.

Jeff, in his confirmation blessing, encouraged Elise to write about this day in her journal so she can teach her own children about baptism. She did! I know Elise was happy today because her little giggle as she left the font told me so.

It didn't rain. There wasn't a rainbow. It was white, not the way some see as the absence of color, but as a type of light which contains all of the beautiful hues. The gospel light.

Today, white.

___________

*Perhaps showing my preoccupation with this Primary song, I, as pianist, played it for the closing hymn at the service, not realizing the baptism coordinators thought we were doing a different song and had made printed handouts of the its lyrics for the congregation. Oops. Didn't know that -- and could have been forever oblivious had not Jeff informed me of my mistake as we drove home.

**Circe is the most kind, thoughtful person I know -- and she acts on those thoughts. During our phone conversations Friday I had several of what I'll call "brainbursts," vocal realizations of things I'd forgotten. "Aaargh! I still need to get James' stitches taken out! Aaargh! I haven't even bought Elise's dress yet!" and so forth. Even though she was going through the same stress of rescheduling as I was, she showed up at my door with a white dress we could borrow. Thank you, Circe! Another way I'll remember white.

Advent calendar

Here you see another installment of our family's tradition to use our many Christmas books as an advent calendar to the special day. I may decide to hang the books on the railing, as I have other years, but for now they're happily propped up between the balusters in our front entry. Visitors are always confused what on earth this is. Letting them in on the secret is part of the fun.

I almost didn't do it this year, hence the Dec. 2 start date, because of a few naysayers in these parts. "Oh, Mom, just put the books in a box," said one. (You mean the box they've been hiding in the last 11 months?!) Would it be worth all my efforts to round up fabric scraps (we're going green here) and wrap the books? I even went so far as to poll the children this morning. One child, one sweet, newly endearing child went against the grain and said yes, he wanted to do this. That was all I needed! He did a great job making the number labels.

I like how this tradition gives meter to one of my favorite holiday activities: reading with my children. Perhaps the greatest post-holiday letdown one year a while back was packing up the mute books we never shared that busy season. No more of that. My plan is to read these as a family each night. I've noticed that even though the older children may initially scoff, they too are excited to see what book got opened that day. I think it's because more than turning pages, we're returning to memories. Happy ones, I hope.

Alchemy

Alchemy

James intently watches pepper grains -- that he madly stirred in water moments before -- fall to the bottom of the cup without dissolving. 

Little did I know pantry ingredients would transform my day. As days go it wasn't a bad one necessarily, but I wasn't happy anyway. I was fed up with the constant state of mess in my house, hating feeling like a maid (and an unsuccessful one at that), and basically tired of spinning my wheels to get nothing done.

As further wounds to my psyche, my piano student didn't show up again and Samuel was screaming so much all I could do was deposit him in his crib and walk away.

I tackled the dishes with slumped shoulders. James, without his little brother sidekick, stayed closer to me than usual. He found a science experiment book, and I soon heard him reading instructions out loud.

He dissolved salt in one cup of water, then sugar and lime juice in another. "The book said it would be tasty, Mom, and it is!"

James was so intrigued by the ordinary. At least, what is ordinary to me. It made me think, as I threw aside the dish towel and joined him first for vinegar and baking soda bubbles, then a black pepper slurry, that I need to redefine my life and make more room to study its golden "wow" moments.

"Ow-oooh!" James howled.

James' shadow butterfly