Yes, its more dance. Lauren's ballet school preformed the "nativity" and Lauren was the angel, which if you know Laure is a fitting role for her. She already looks angelic without the costume.
Lauren has been taking dance since she was three years old, and with the same teacher no less. This is her last year with Miss Amber because she limits her teaching to little girls, and as much as I hate to admit it, Lauren no longer falls into the little girl category.
Uncle Jeron who lives in St. George, came and stayed with us for a few days prior to heading up to Idaho to spend Christmas with Grandpa and Grandma Hales. My kids think Uncle Jeron happens to be one of the coolest uncles on the planet, they love teasing and tormenting him. Mark especially likes to "chat" him up.
Jeron was nice enough to bring Christmas presents for the kids. As is Jeron's long standing tradition he wrapped them in aluminum foil. Now I have to admit when Jeron started wrapping presents in foil a number of years ago, I thought was stupid and he would grow out of it. As you can see he has not. But I am beginning to change my mind on the stupid thing, I mean the wrapping always fits perfectly around the package, no tape and its recyclable. Perhaps Jerson is on to something.....
December is not complete unless you as a parent attend no less than 3 children's Christmas programs/dance recitals. As if December is not painful enough...
Mark and his pre-school class preformed at Jamestown, which is a local retirement center. Of course they were a big hit. Last year when the performed Mark stood and just looked around, didn't sign, didn't wear his props, just seemed overwhelmed by the whole thing.
This year, Mark still was not to hip on the singing, but he did use the props and everyone in a while he sing, or rather shout a word or two.
Waiting on the stairs to see if Santa found us.
The long awaited Wii
Got, to have games to with with the Wii
Katie got a "ball popper" which came highly recommended from cousin Kallie.
Who like the ball popper more?Twas, the night before Christmas and the children were loud, wound up and excited just like a big crowd. Their stockings they grabbed from the chimney with glee, hoping that Santa will bring them a Wii. 
Cookies were left for Santa to eat, Katie was upset they were not her treat.
Finally all tucked in safe and sound, waiting for morning to come around.
Last week rather large box from Idaho arrived with presents from Grandma and Grandpa Hales, the kids of course were giddy with delight, because the tree was bare of presents, and they were beginning to wonder if Christmas was going to pass them by.
Well the temptation of presents was more than Katie could handle and she decided that unwrapping the presents immediately was in order. Oddly enough she chose to unwrap Mark's present and Lauren's present....I am beginning to think it was not so much Katie as it was a conspiracy on the part of her siblings to "peak" without getting in trouble....
Naughty or Nice? That is the question Mark needs to be asking himself.... Does he want Santa to visit him or is Santa going to take an assessment of his conduct and pass our house by...
On Monday while in the bathtub he decided his bath needed some added softness, and took a tub of Cetaphil lotion I have near the tub, twisted the lid off, dug his fat, stubby little fingers into the tub, and scooped out about 1/2 a cup of lotion and added it to his bath. He had silky smooth bath water and skin, I decided to skip washing his hair, pulled him out of the tub and got him dressed.
The next thing I knew I heard a crash on the main floor of the house, I went down stairs to investigate and discovered he had pushed the button on the refrigerator that spits out ice, and had a whole pile of ice on the floor. He was shuffling the ice around on the floor to see how far an ice cube will travel across a wood floor when propelled by little feet. Cleaned up the ice.
The next thing I knew he was up on his stool rearranging the pictures and decorations hung on my kitchen wall. Apparently he now fancies himself an interior decorator, along with a spa specialist, and frozen food expert.
This all happen in the first 45 minutes of the day. So what is a struggling mom to do, take him to grandma of course. (Ok, I did have to work so at least it was justified) I hear tell that his conduct at grandma's was not much better...
Later that evening, Rick was here eating dinner with us, and had was updated on Mark's conduct. Rick told Mark:
"When that mind of yours gets going you need to do constructive things."
Mark replied:
"I don't know any better." I repeated it several times. Somehow I think we got played...
Katie has decided her new job assignment in the family is to redecorate the Christmas tree. She has become particularly fascinated with the round glass ornaments.
Katie quickly determined that if you grab onto the ornament and "pull" you can quickly separate the round ornament from its gold top and the ribbon that hangs the ornament on the tree.
The round ornaments and a few of the tops, can then be deposited on the tree skirt for added color when presents are not occupying that spot just yet.
Finally, she decided to try taking two ornaments, one in each hand, and smash them together like raw eggs. You can see the result of that..... Last week a comment was left on my blog "Why is this child still alive?" in reference to Mark's spilling popcorn salt on the kitchen floor. I have to admit I often ask myself that very question. For those of you who are regular readers of my blog you are very familiar with his antics, from temper tantrums, to random acts of destruction, to making his sisters squeal. My day is an endless stream of mitigating his disasters, frequented with "MAAARRRRRKKK!!!!!" (this is when he knows he is really in trouble)
This morning I was lying in bed, and Mark was right next to me. He and Lauren have taken up residence in my bed. Lauren sleeps on one side, me on the other and Mark between us, but mostly snuggled up next to me. Both Mark and I woke up at the same time. He looked up at me with his big blue eyes and touched my face and said "Mommy can I have a kiss?" That is why this child is still alive.
Believe it or not I am capable of simplicity. This year for neighbor gifts I chose the simple, yet delicious gift of popcorn, distributed in a colorful Christmas box. The popcorn on the left is covered in milk and white chocolate. The popcorn on the right is covered in butter toffee. Lauren helped me make the popcorn during a fun girls evening we had and declared it to be delicious. Now don't you want to be my neighbor?
We made our annual pilgrimage to University Mall to see Santa. This is a tradition that began when Rick was a little boy. He has a whole series of pictures from his childhood each year sitting on Santa's lap, and its fun to see his growth and change over about an eight year period of time. We thought it was good tradition to carry on, so ever since Lauren was 10 months old, each and every year we go see Santa.
Although with three kids now, Santa should probably get fair warning before we arrived As you can see from the picture, Lauren is excited, and Katie is wondering why she is all dressed up and in her stroller.
I strategically had Lauren be the first to sit on Santa's lap so both Katie and Mark would understand the drill. Lauren was polite, smiled for Santa and told him she wanted a Wii and American Girl doll accessories for Christmas. When Mark determined Lauren had sat on Santa's lap for a sufficient amount of time he "kindly" told her to move it was his turn. Katie watched with wonder and amazement.
As you can see from the picture Katie was not too keen on sitting on Santa's lap. I did not have high expectations for Katie to begin with, and she did not disappoint!
My neighbor and I share the same piano teachers, as in my Lauren and her Josh both take lessons at the same place. For Christmas Sue found these cute music brads, and suggested we make the teachers cards. Well I will use any excuse to made cards, take photos and then brag about it on my blog. Katie's new obsession? SHOES. Does not matter whose shoes, does not matter the type of shoes, as long as they are shoes, and if a purse happens to be involved, even better. 
On Sunday she marched her little self into my mud room and found a snow boot and one of Mark's crocs. Just to prove to me her love of shoes she successfully navigated getting the snow boot on the correct foot by herself. However she was not as discriminating with the croc. She decided she wanted to wear two right shoes. For added affect she found a backpack. Not quite a purse, but close enough.
This is popcorn salt. It is very fine, and designed to stick to popcorn.
This is popcorn salt on my kitchen floor, still very fine, and apparently sticks to kitchen floors as well as popcorn. 3:00 p.m. Saturday afternoon was my date with destiny or rather the gun range a short distance from my house. The designated meeting spot was the house of the Ward firearms expert. Somewhere along the line, news of my self defense course began spreading throughout the Ward, and my outing became an “unofficial” ward activity. Not only did the Ward fire arms expert and one of my home teachers join me for this outing, but along came my other home teacher (well I guess they are supposed to come in pairs) and his wife, in addition to the former bishop, his wife and his son. Brining our grand total, to a party of eight. What the heck the more the merrier when shooting guns?
We arrived at the range and were given a short safety lesson, which included wearing ear protection, eye protection, (I am a safety girl you know) as well as a reminder to always point the gun down range, unless of course someone is on the range, then the guns need to be set down. Then the Ward firearms expert began explaining the mechanics of the gun. My eyes glazed over with the mechanical details he was providing. I am a law school graduate after all….
Soon it was time to shoot my gun. I opted to have my home teacher help me, because quite frankly the Ward firearms expert kind of scare me. Now let me tell you about my home teacher, basically think Clint Eastwood in Dirty Harry. He brought his revolver to the range that day and stood there with his right arm extended shooting the gun with one hand, the other hand in the front pocket of his jeans. Round after round being hitting directly on target until it was empty. Did I mention he has wild red hair??? I kicking myself for not bringing my camera. It was priceless.
Ok, back to my 9mm. He helped me load the magazine and then place the magazine into the gun, hence I was armed and dangerous. I nervously pointed my gun down range at a target. I lined up what I believed to be the target in my site, moved my index finger from the side of the gun to the trigger and fired away. I forgot how much the gun recoils after shoot a bullet out, and the trigger comes down ready to fire again. As the trigger came down my left thumb was in the way, and as a result the trigger scraped it, drawing blood. FYI, in the short safety lesson Ward firearms expert told us not to put our thumbs there. Crap, I was now going to be busted for not listening. Sure enough, BUSTED, with a “Didn’t I tell you not to put your thumb there?” Yeah, yeah, I know, but I am a lawyer and I can’t help it if in law school I was brainwashed to believe that I know everything, and was encouraged to selectively listen. Good news putting your thumb in the wrong place is a onetime deal, because once you make that mistake you avoid doing that again.
I began firing off more rounds, successively becoming more and more comfortable with my gun. After the first 20 shots or so, I realized I have really, really GOOD aim. I began hitting all the targets right on point, dead center. I became “Dirty Harriet” minus the wild hair of course. I used all 100 round of my ammo, and had a great time, and now feel completely comfortable using my gun. (Although I still lack the capacity to open the case)
I think I might have to look into trading that BMW 335 for a large pick-up truck with a gun rack….NOT!
Now you have to understand my trepidation about going out target shooting. First of all I am not really pro-gun, in fact regulating guns would be just fine with me. Second you have to understand the personalities of the individuals with whom I am going shooting. The home teacher, very nice man, age of my mother, extreme right wing, served in Vietnam, probably has flash backs (PTSD). The Ward firearms expert, seems like a nice guy, but a little intense. (Even his wife admits that, and after a 5 minute conversation most people agree.) See why I think gun regulation is a good thing?
The thing I find ironic about the whole situation is that where I live now is a very safe neighborhood, as in like ZERO crime except for the occasional teenage prank or vandalism. In my former life I lived in the “hood” so to speak. And of that I am not kidding. I had ‘gang” bangers who lived across the street from me. One Christmas the cops used my house as a look out because they were expecting a drive by shooting at the house across the street in retaliation for a drive by my neighbors had done on a rival gang. So I have a hard time getting overly concerned about my safety. Of course I am not stupid about it either. I lock my doors, have an alarm system etc.
The other thing that is funny about the gun is that I am incapable of opening the case where the gun is stored. The case has these latches that I do not have the finger strength to open. I never have, and I never will. I have always had to have a male open the case for me. So future burglars, robbers, kidnapper etc., please note that if you come to my house I will probably politely ask you to open the gun case in order for me to retrieve the gun with which to shoot and or frighten you with.
That being said, when you receive a gift, you must take it with the intent of the giver. Both of these gentleman who have agreed to take me shooting, are concerned about me and my well being, and only have my best interest at heart. So while target shooting might not be my “thing” it is a way that both of them can serve me in a difficult time, which is a gift I gladly accept.
To be continued…..
One cannot target shoot without ammunition. Had the gun, had no ammo. Needed ammo. Now mind you I have NEVER purchased ammo in my life. I believe that after I purchased the gun, a friend of mine gave me ammo for a gift, which is what I used the one and only time I shot the gun off. So to the local sporting goods store I headed.
I pulled into the parking lot, which of course was filled with very LARGE pickup truck mostly of the Chevy or Ford variety. My poor little BMW 335 was feeling out of place, as was its owner. Clearly we were not at Macy’s anymore…
I entered the store filled with all sorts of hunting paraphernalia, and head to the back where I presumed the guns and ammo to be. I passed several shelves of ammo, but rather than try to figure out what I needed I decided the most efficient way to purchase my ammo would be to find a sales clerk, and plead ignorance. I approached the gun counter and patiently waited. (Apparently the election of a Democrat has all of the right wing extremists concerned and gun sales are on the rise.) In the middle of the afternoon on a Thursday there were no less than three people selecting guns. One was shopping for a hand gun, and two for rifles. I politely listened to the salesmen touting the benefits of each gun, using words and language entirely unfamiliar to me, hence increasing my anxiety level about being there, and wanting to get my ammo and get the hell out before I started wanting to drive a pick up with a gun rack, and wear lots of camouflage.
Finally a salesman asked me if I was being helped. I replied “No.” I guess prior to that I must have looked like some confused girlfriend/wife of one of the gentleman considering the purchase of a firearm. (Note to self, wear lawyer attire next time shopping for ammo, might be taken more seriously…) I informed the salesman I needed ammo for a 9mm hand gun. He then asked if I needed “Plinko” or “Self defense.” What???? I had a choice????? Furthermore what was Plinko? Self defense seemed self evident. Not wanting to look entirely stupid and have him refuse to sell me the ammunition due to being blonde and very clueless, although I am sure that was apparent, I simply said “I am going target shooting.” He informed me I wanted “plinko” and directed me to the shelf where “plinko” was located. Next he wanted to know if I wanted silver or brass casings. What???? I had ANOTHER choice????? I looked at him with a questioning eye and he told me the silver casings were not reloadable, but the brass ones were.
Seriously did I look like a women who was going to reload empty casings???? I think not…I don’t even want to shoot the gun to begin with, let alone collect my casings and reload them!!!! I indicated that I would take the silver, and politely grabbed two boxes, (100 rounds, I think that should be sufficient) and made haste to the register to leave this strange environment as soon as possible. One debit card purchase later, I was safely back in my BMW 335 leaving the land of guns, ammo, and very LARGE trucks. (Isn’t a large truck a sign of overcompensation?) humm…
To be continued….
Several years ago, in another life, I was a prosecuting attorney. As a result I received a number of death threats, most of which I did not take seriously. After all I was single at the time, no children, so death threats did not bother me, because I did not have a whole lot to lose. Not that I wanted to die mind you, but the seriousness with which I would take a death threat today, is vastly different than it was several years ago.
Because my father was wiser, and apparently valued my life more that I did, he insisted that I get a gun, a hand gun to be precise. I honestly could have cared less about owning a gun. (Although I did idolize Charlie’s Angles as a young child/tween, and guns in their purses were a mainstay.) In order to appease my father I purchased a 9mm, semi-automatic gun. I took it out shooting once and it has been in its case ever sense. Probably needs to be cleaned…. For reason I will not go into here, for the last 6 years the gun has taken up residence in the gun safe at my brother-in-laws house.
Well with the recently re-location of Rick, one of my home teachers has taken it upon himself to ensure my personal safety. He brought me over an 11 page, single space document on self defense that he prepared in 2002 and asked me if I had a gun. I reported that I did, but did not report that the location of my gun was actually about 20 miles south of my house. He then questioned how long it had been since I shot my gun. I sheepishly told him it had been a number of years. He then informed me that we were going to go out and shoot my gun. I said “Yeah that would be great” honestly thinking he was not serious. Oh no….he was serious. The next time I saw him he told me he had already spoken with the firearms expert in our ward, (he teaches gun safety for fun) and had arranged to go and warm the metal of my oh so cold hand gun, and see what kind of aim I have. (Little does he know my aim is terrible, perhaps I should warn him in advance that a flack jacket might be in order.)
Well I could not go shooting without my gun so the day before Thanksgiving I called my sister-in-law up and said “Hey can you bring my gun to Thanksgiving dinner?” She paused and said “ok.” Then I realized how bad that sounded, and she was probably questioning if she even wanted to come to Thanksgiving dinner. She was relieved to hear that I was planning on going target shooting, and did not have anyone in the family in my sight…..
Gun delivered Thanksgiving Day. To be continued…
This is the "Ballet" tree in Lauren's room.
This is the "Sugar Fruit" tree in the family room.
My personal favorite is the "Candy Cane" tree in the dining room. The picture does not do it justice.Tis the season...to deck our halls. We actually exhibited some restraint in decking our halls this year and rather than deck on November 1st, as usual, we decided to show some respect for Thanksgiving and actually WAIT until after Thanksgiving. We also decided putting up the 12 foot tree in the entry way was a little more than we could handle this year. Of course the current changes in our lives had nothing to do with that....
Here is Lauren working on the sugar fruit tree.
Katie contribution: Removing ornaments from the box, with Mark's supervision of course.
Only problem, not only did she remove the ornaments, she also removed the packaging for the ornaments. 
I made giant gingersnaps on Wednesday night to take to Thanksgiving dinner as an after dinner "grazing" item. After all isn't that what Thanksgiving is all about, grazing ALL DAY LONG?
Well I completed my dough and Mark requested to "lick" the beater. Shortly upon request Mark decided cookie dough was better than the beater and demanded I plate him up some dough. (He was inspired by Lauren's request for dough) He left the beater somewhere, I am not exactly sure where, but it was within Katie's reach.
After preparing two sheets of cookies for the oven, I turned around and this is the site I was met with sitting on the kitchen floor. No wonder it was so quiet....
