My Top 10 Favorite Children's books to give for Christmas

I think I may have a problem.

It's a good problem, I think, depending on how you look at it.

And it's a problem I may have passed on to my children. In fact, I KNOW I've passed it on to my children.

It's books.

I grew up loving books. I still love books.

Especially children's books.

Here is just one of the shelves of my built-in bookshelves--the one of the several that houses children's books. Sadly, they aren't all mine--many belong to my girls, which I will explain in a minute.

Here are some of my books from when I was a little girl.

I have a few favorites. Like this one:

Anybody else remember Katy and the Big Snow? I know my girls remember it because I used to read it to them on days when we had big snowstorms.

This one, Shoes for Angela, isn't a classic, but I received it as a gift when I was young, and I read it over and over and over. This truly was one of my favorite books when I was a girl. I think it might have started a fetish.

And how many of you learned to read from the Dick and Jane books? I know I did! Somehow I snagged a first edition from 1938--goodness, my dad could have read from this very book--which is one of my personal treasures.

The very coolest thing about this Dick and Jane book? I taught all three of my girls to read using this very copy. I love it so much.

As you can see, my love for children's books goes way back. I wanted to instill a love of reading and of books in my girls from the time they were very young, so I decided that, rather than give them an ornament for Christmas every year, I would give them each a book.

Thus, the rather large portion of the bookshelf that doesn't belong to me.

Each year I try to choose a book that has some special meaning for them. Each girl gets something different, although I have duplicated a few books over the years. And, of course, I write the year and maybe a little note in the front of the book.

Just in case you'd like to start such a tradition with your children (it's never too late to start!), here is a list, in no particular order, of some of my favorites.

1. Guess How Much I Love You by Sam McBratney. A classic. Every child should know this one by heart.

2. Kate and the Beanstalk by Mary Pope Osbourne. A book about a brave young girl named Kate. Hey! I have one of those!

3. Love You Forever by Robert Munsch. I gave this book to Caroline when she was in first grade because she told me that her teacher had read it to the class and it made her cry. I cannot get through this book without shedding a tear.

4. Just the Way You Are by Max Lucado. Actually, any book by Max Lucado could make my list. This one just happened to be within easy reach.

5. Olivia by Ian Falconer. I think it was Julia who requested Olivia one year. It just fit.

6. Grandpappy by Nancy White Carlstrom. A very special book for a child who really loves his or her grandpa. Nancy White Carlstrom is one of our favorite authors because, not only did she write the Jesse Bear books, she also attended my alma mater.

7. O.K., this one might not be as great as the original, but it's still pretty good. I gave it to Julia the year she learned to read . . . from the other book.

8. Home for Christmas by Jan Brett. Another one of our very favorite children's authors. We spent hours poring over her books, just enjoying the detail of her illustrations, when my girls were little. Any of her books would be great for your kids.

9. Someday by Alison McGhee and Peter H. Reynolds. It says this book is a NYT #1 bestseller, and I can see why. I came across this book a few years ago as Kate was getting ready to graduate from high school. When I read it in the bookstore, it made me cry. When we passed it around at Christmas, there was not a dry eye in the room.

Have someone leaving home soon? Get them this book. And a pack of tissues.

And just for fun, here's the back cover of the book:

Now you know what I mean?

10. Finally, I have to include this special book for even the big kids in your life. The Gift by R. Kent Hughes and Ron DiCianni tells the Christmas story in beautiful artwork and description. It also includes calligraphy by Timothy Botts. I got this book because Kent Hughes was my former pastor, but as I've read it over the years, it makes the Christmas story become so much more meaningful to me.

Each chapter is illustrated by one of DiCianni's beautiful paintings.

So there you have just a small taste of what's on my shelf. Sadly, that shelf will soon start getting more and more sparse as my children leave my house. I know that one day these books will be packed up and placed on a new bookshelf in a new home, and, really, it couldn't make me happier. I know that I have given my girls the gift of reading, of happy memories, and of home.

And, hopefully, they can pass along their own love of books to their children someday.

Now tell me, do you have any gifting traditions in your home?

Linking to Amanda's Weekly Bloggy Reading Link-up at Serenity Now, Richella's Grace at Home party at Imparting Grace, and Kelly's The Parent 'Hood at Love Well. Go check out these wonderful blogs!

Fireworks

This is a repost from July 5, 2009. I liked this post a lot, so I thought I'd share it with you again. Hope you enjoyed your long weekend!

Source: my3boybarians.com via Shelly on Pinterest

The weather was “iffy” last night, and cool, so we decided that rather than watching the fireworks from blankets on the rain-soaked ground, we’d just head to the Target parking lot and watch from the back of the car. We’ve watched the fireworks there before, and we knew we’d be able to see enough—just not the low-to-the-ground displays.

Of course, we forgot to bring chairs of any sort, and all five of us couldn’t fit in the back of the van, so it took us a little while to figure out exactly where each of us would sit. Once the fireworks started and we could see that we couldn’t see, we headed over toward a grassy area where other people were gathered.

I’ve always had a fascination with fireworks. How someone could pack the sounds and sparkles and colors and happiness of a million little specks of light into one cylinder is beyond my comprehension. It seems dangerous and dark, yet thrilling all at once. Every year I tell myself, “You’ve seen it before, don’t get excited.” And yet, every year I feel like a kid again as the sparkling and the twinkling and the crashing begins.

I can “ooh” and “aah” with the best of them. Just ask my kids.

My favorites are the ones that look like willow trees—they come spraying out all golden and then end up with millions of tiny diamonds that twinkle their way down to the ground. It’s just magical to me, and I sometimes wonder if I headed back to the fairgrounds the next day to take a look around if I’d find even one of those sparkly diamonds waiting for me in the grass.

As we stood and watched the fireworks, I began to notice the people around me. Little kids, no older than five, were running everywhere—everywhere!—at full speed, and I turned to B and said, “Remember that feeling when you were a kid and you could run as fast as you could forever?”

We both agreed that we’d love to feel like that again, even for a few minutes.

The grassy field near us was filling up with fast-running little kids twirling neon glow sticks, their parents sitting in portable lawn chairs next to the curb. Teenagers on dates sat on blankets nearby. And my little clan huddled together, enjoying the moment, even if it was for the sake of tradition.

Next to me sat an old man with whom I presume was his daughter. She was in her late-50s or early-60s, and he looked to be well into his 80s. They both sat quietly, side by side, not talking much but occasionally glancing at one another, smiling.

I took a good long look at this man, his hands gnarled and spotted, his knuckles swollen with age. He wore black pants, a black checked dress shirt underneath a gray cardigan that was so old it was pilled all over. On top of his head he wore an old-fashioned hat, the kind that comes together at the bill—is it a driving cap or an ivy cap? He wore white Converse tennis shoes and white athletic socks. All-in-all he was dressed quite well for a fireworks display.

Partway through the fireworks, I noticed that the man was struggling with something in his hand. It was a miniature Kit Kat bar that he was having a little trouble opening. After a couple of minutes, though, he had success, and I watched him as he enjoyed his little treat for the evening, a slight smile creeping to the edge of his mouth.

I wondered about this man and his daughter. What made them head to the Target parking lot together to watch fireworks with the younger families? Did she do it as a special treat for him? Did they have some sort of tradition of watching fireworks together, just the two of them? Did they somehow, in some unspoken way, know that this could possibly be the last fireworks display that the old man would ever get to see?

As I pondered them, I found myself getting choked up. Tears came to my eyes as I wondered how many fireworks displays this man had seen in his life and how many he would have yet to see.

I looked at my little brood sitting all around me, happy with the effort we had made to get to the fireworks, and thought, “I hope they all have the opportunity to sit with their own sons or daughters when they are 85 and watch fireworks together.” What a blessing that would be.

And I hope that when I’m 85, should God give me that many years, I’ll be sitting in the Target parking lot or wherever I am, still enjoying the childlike thrill of watching diamonds fall from the sky.

4th of July Blessings

Source: google.com via Shelly on Pinterest

Happy 4th of July, my friends!

Isn't today the perfect day to be somewhere like this?

Source: bippityboppityboo.tumblr.com via Shelly on Pinterest

Perhaps indulging in a slice of this?

Source: tumblrperfectpics.tumblr.com via Shelly on Pinterest

Or how about sitting on this front porch . . .

Source: theinspiredroom.net via Shelly on Pinterest

. . . enjoying a little bit of this?

Source: sugarturntable.com via Shelly on Pinterest

Ahhhhhhh.

We are going to enjoy some family time today, and I thought this would be a good way to not only share with you what the 4th of July looks like around here, but also to count my blessings in the process.

Today I'm grateful for . . .

181. Patriotic music played before church.

182. Friends gathered around our table (twice this weekend!).

183. Girls marching in a parade.

184. Firetrucks blaring their sirens.

185. The cutest dog EVER, howling in reply.

186. Neighbors who throw a great party.

187. Seeing friends along the parade route.

188. Fireworks lighting up the sky.

189. Hot dogs and brats sizzling on the grill.

190. Fresh, sweet watermelon bites.

191. Every single person who has sacrificed to make this day what it is. Thank you.

Have a great 4th!

Source: chicksandgluesticks.blogspot.com via Shelly on Pinterest

So tell me, what are YOU doing today?

Linking up with Ann today.

Top 10 Lines from "It's a Wonderful Life"

Last Saturday our family took an excursion into the big city. I had been hearing for years about the Christmas Show at the Music Box Theater in Chicago—it’s a double feature of “White Christmas” and “It’s a Wonderful Life” which was right up our alley.



Plus, it’s interactive, which is also right up our alley. Asking our family to not talk during a movie—PARTICULARLY a movie named “It’s a Wonderful Life”—is like asking us to, oh, I don’t know, not breathe.

Which reminds me of the time when B took me to see “Sophie’s Choice” when we were in college. Never mind the fact that the movie was a complete downer, we were on something like our third date, so we had some catching up to do. What can I say? We chatted.

Until the guy behind us told us, about halfway through the movie, to pipe down in some not so friendly terms. Talk about embarrassing. On your third date.

I think it bound us together for life.

I guess that could be a life lesson: be careful about getting shushed with a guy. You just might end up marrying him.

But then again, I’ve also been shushed with a girl. My college roommate, Jennifer and I got shushed in church one time. Also embarrassing.

I’m seeing a pattern here. I’d better shut up about it.

ANYWAY. Back to last Saturday and seeing “It’s a Wonderful Life” at the Musicbox Theater. Let me just tell you that that was one of the most fun experiences I’ve had in a long time. Just walking into the theater was amazing—it’s old and grand and beautiful and dark. It really brought me back to my childhood and the old theater we had in our town where my mom would drop me off every Saturday afternoon while she ran her errands.

Even before the movie started, some carolers came out on the stage and started a singalong. And then, Santa came out and sang with us. I tell you, I felt like a kid again singing those old non-religious Christmas songs. (What do you expect? It was the city. There was nothing religious about this day at all.) It was pure childlike Christmasy fun.



Not only that, but the crowd—those who had been to the Christmas Show before—all came dressed in their Santa hats and jingle bells. I had no idea what that was all about until the movie started. Every time there was a reference to Clarence everybody jingled their jingle bells. And every time Mr. Potter came on, everybody went, “Ssssssssss.”

Oh, it was fun.

And since I’ve seen “It’s a Wonderful Life” a time or twenty, I thought this might be a good time to share with you MY top 10 favorite lines from the movie and why. These may not be the most famous lines from the movie, and they may not be your favorites, but they are some of my favorites. Believe me, it’s hard to narrow all the great ones down to just ten.

Top 10 Lines from “It’s a Wonderful Life”

1. “George Bailey, I’ll love you till the day I die.” I think this might be my favorite line in the entire movie because as young Mary Hatch whispers this sweet sentiment into George's deaf ear she knows, even at age 10, that she loves this boy. I like a woman who knows her mind.

2. “This old thing? Why, I only wear this when I don’t care how I look.” Now Violet, the flirt, flips her hair and kicks up her heel while she says this line. I wish I had about one tenth of her gumption.

3. “Could I have $17.50?” I’ve heard that when the woman in the movie says this line and George leans over the counter to give her a kiss it is completely impromptu. I don’t know if that’s true or not, but I like to think it is.

4. “Wish I had a million dollars! Hot dog!” Traditions like this one in Gower’s Drug Store don’t come along that often. Plus, who doesn’t wish they had a million dollars?

5. “Mr. Martini, how about some wine?” Yep, that Mary Bailey is my kind of gal.

6. “That’s what you get for praying.” George, in his moment of desperation, prays for some help and instead gets a pop on the lip. Don’t you ever feel like saying that?

7. “George, why must you torment the children?” This line is spoken quite frequently in my house, substituting B’s name for George’s, of course.

8. “Happy family? You call this a happy family? Why’d we have to have all these kids?” Another line spoken even more frequently in our house.

9. “I’m shakin’ the dust of this crummy little town off my feet and I’m gonna see the world!” That’s how I felt when I left my little farm town for college, and you know what? I have.

10. This year I noticed something that I had never noticed in the movie before (which is what makes this movie so great--you catch something new every time). There’s a sign on the wall in George’s office that says “All you can take with you is that which is given away.” I think that’s a pretty great life motto, don't you?

Now tell me, what's your favorite Christmas movie (and as an FYI, "It's a Wonderful Life" is NOT my favorite one--"Holiday Inn" is my true favorite)? What's your favorite line from it?

Fabulous Friday Food - Molasses Cookies

It's beginning to smell a lot like Christmas.

My kitchen is filled with the scents of cinnamon and ginger and cloves because today I baked my first batch of Christmas cookies! (Everybody cheer!)

If my family is lucky, it won't be the last. But if my calendar keeps filling up the way it has been, this very well could be the last batch.

(December is already kicking my behind and it's only the 3rd.)

Anyway, the first batch of Christmas cookies is always very exciting for everyone around here and is usually this very cookie because everyone loves them. Even Thunder kept sniffing around the kitchen hoping for a crumb or two.

I got this recipe probably over 20 years ago from my friend, Angie, when we worked together. I've tweaked the recipe just a little to suit my tastes, but it's still Angie's recipe.

And so, without further adieu, I give you . . . Molasses Cookies.

First, cream together one stick of butter flavored Crisco with one stick of room-temperature butter.

It should be really creamy, like this:

Next add 2 cups of sugar and beat this mixture really well. Same after the eggs. I have found that my cookies turn out best when I beat the batter like crazy, making it really fluffy and light.

O.K., so . . . to speed things along here . . . add some more stuff like, well, molasses would be good, and maybe some dry ingredients, until you have cookie dough that looks something like this.

Here's when you want to call your kids to come help you. Take a tablespoon or so of dough and roll it into a ball. Then roll the ball into some white sugar.

Line 'em up! (Are you as careful as I am about lining up your cookies? Or do you just throw them anywhere on the cookie sheet?)

O.K., I don't know what happened, but I didn't get a picture of the finished product on the cookie sheet. But here's what you have to know about baking these cookies. DON'T OVERBAKE THEM!!! Please. For all that is good and right and true in this world, do not overbake these cookies. I found that if I baked two pans for 7 minutes, and then switched the pans and baked them for 2 more minutes, they came out perfect. Your oven temperature may vary, so just watch them.

What I DID take a picture of is this cute Christmas plate that I've probably had for more than 20 years. My youngest sister, Jodi, gave it to me when I was first married. Isn't that sweet? I still love it.

Anyway, pile up the molasses cookies on a pretty plate.

It won't take long for them to be devoured.

Molasses Cookies

1 Cup butter flavored Crisco

1/2 Cup room-temperature butter

2 Cups sugar

1/2 Cup molasses

2 eggs

4 teaspoons baking soda

1 teaspoon salt

2 teaspoons cinnamon

1 teaspoon ginger

1/2 teaspoon cloves

4 Cups flour

1. Preheat oven to 375.

2. Mix Crisco and butter together until fluffy. Add sugar and beat well. Add molasses and eggs. Add dry ingredients.

3. Roll one full teaspoon of dough into balls and then roll in white sugar.

4. Place balls on cookie sheet and bake at 375 degrees for 7-9 minutes.

5. DON'T OVERBAKE!

So tell me . . . have you baked any Christmas cookies yet? What's your favorite?

Thanksgiving 2010. And as a Bonus, Some Parenting Advice!

So, I really haven’t told you anything about our Thanksgiving yet. Probably because there’s not that much to tell.

I’d hate to bore you with tales of our lying around on the couch for six hours watching football.

Or of my making homemade Chex mix and basically just leaving the pan on the counter all day. “Enjoy your lunch, dears!”

Or lifting my head up from my position in the family room to see who’s wandering through the kitchen.

Yep, that pretty much sums up our Thanksgiving.

I did not cook since it was just our little Party of Five. Just saying it . . . “I did not cook” . . . brings shivers down my spine, because you all know how much I love to cook. And to not cook Thanksgiving is kind of a travesty.

But I’m getting over it.

Four years of going out, and I’m finally getting over it.

Besides, as I told the mailman on Monday (and pretty much anyone who would listen), I cook a lot—A LOT—during the rest of the year. I guess it’s O.K. for me to take Thanksgiving off.

Maybe in about 25 years I’ll actually believe that.

But the fam didn’t mind, so I played along. Someday we will have another family, oh heck, even another person, to cook for and I’ll love every minute of it. But as long as it’s just the five of us, it’s best to go out since I’d be crying in my sweet potatoes if we went to all that fuss at home only to have just us five sitting around the table. That's just depressing if you ask me.

Enough about the meal or lack thereof.



There was a little matter about the hubs being on T.V. that morning and the two of us having to get up really early to head into Chicago for him to be interviewed and the two of us sitting in the “Green Room” which was really the restaurant of a fancy hotel and the Harlem Globetrotters were there, along with Miss Illinois (woo hoo! a brush with fame!), and then B getting interviewed and forgetting everything he was supposed to say even though he had practiced a million times all week long. It’s one of those real-life nightmares he would rather forget.

Except that it will now be preserved forever on this here blog. And our DVR.

The best part about being in Chicago that morning, aside from the truly awesome-for-Thanksgiving-Day kind of weather, was that when crowds gather the whackadoodles come out. We’ve seen them before. It’s not the first time.

But this crowd’s whackadoodles were special. Because they were “Christians.” Yelling really loudly into a bullhorn something about how everyone in the crowd was going to hell.

Really! You can’t make this stuff up.

And they were carrying signs. We were being rushed across the street for B to do his interview (on LIVE T.V.!!!!), so I didn’t have time to get a picture of the whole thing. But I do remember one sign that said, “Your child needs Christ more than Nintendo!”

I can't argue with that.

But this sign . . . THIS sign . . . really helped me out. I have always wondered how I could be a better mother, and now I know thanks to the bullhorn-toting-really-loud-yelling-hellfire-and-brimstone whackadoodles.

And friends, I just cannot keep this little nugget of knowledge to myself.



Mothers of the world, now you know everything you need to know about being a good mom. Put your knowledge to good use.

Two Words You May Never Mention in My Presence Again

Photo credit

I’m done in.

Tapped out.

Exhausted.

Depleted.

Weary.

And I blame Black Friday. For all of it.

Black Friday is a sham. A hoax. A trick to get you into stores to buy things you don’t really need. It’s a waste of precious time and even more precious energy.

Black Friday has ruined me.

I just wanted to spend time with my girls. Bonding, if you will. They were up for the adventure, and I’m always up for an adventure, so we set out to find . . . adventure. Who knew we’d find it in the parking lot?

On our way to the mall, I commented on the lack of traffic, which, in the Chicago area, is rare. We shrugged our shoulders and figured that everyone was probably sleeping in, leaving all the good deals for us.

Even the roads leading to the mall were pretty bare. I expected a lot more congestion.

We hit the parking garage at 9:45. So did the rest of Chicagoland.

Somewhere around 10:06 I dropped my older two at the Nordstrom door. I’m nothing if not particular about where I park, and it must be near Nordstrom. Otherwise I’d lose my car. (I learned this trick from my mom—she always parked by Marshall Field’s. My husband swears that you can learn a lot about someone by where they park at the mall. Whatever that means.)

Anyway, another 15 minutes later (that’s 36 minutes of driving around, just in case you weren’t paying attention) I was in tears saying, “How come everyone else keeps getting a parking place and I don’t?” There may have been some foot stomping involved. And all the while Maggie was rubbing my shoulder saying, “It’s O.K., Mom. Somebody will leave eventually.”

Eventually somebody did, and eventually I did get to park my car near Nordstrom. (Just for the record, I did try other areas of the mall, but everything was filled.)

But my day was ruined, and every other Black Friday heretofore has been ruined for me.

I did try to make the best of it, but once inside the mall things didn’t get any better. After a couple of hours of getting pushed, shoved, and generally jostled I had had it. Maggie and I waved the white flag of defeat and headed to . . . where else? . . . the Nordstrom café for a nice, quiet lunch among the placid Nordstrom shoppers.

I got a white blouse out of the deal, and Maggie got a new pair of jeans. Not a single Christmas gift was bought on Black Friday. My brain was too addled to even think about buying gifts for anyone.

My older two? I think they’re still somewhere in the mall, probably being harassed by evil old women with really big purses. We got separated at the beginning of the day, and didn’t get all caught up until the end.

So much for girly bonding time.

Black Friday? Please don’t ever mention those two words in the same sentence to me. I really don’t know what I was thinking, venturing out into that scene, but one thing I do know, I won’t be in a hurry to do THAT again.

Until maybe next year.

Magnet Street Christmas Cards (and a Discount for YOU!)

Sooooo (she says, kicking nonchalantly at the ground with the toe of her shoe) . . . got your Christmas cards ordered yet?

No?

Good! Me neither.

But mine will be ordered soon. Just as soon as I can find any picture on my computer that doesn’t involve food or my dog or an event I’ve been to recently. (Basically, all of the photos on my computer are blog-related, not family-related.)

And since this year has been completely insane what with our taking separate Spring Break vacations, and one child spending an entire 8-week summer at camp, and another going off to college this fall, well, we don’t have any photos of our entire family together.

Yet.

Hopefully the stars will align and we will all be in the same place at once and we will be able to take a picture together. It may be a terrible picture, and it may be Photoshopped, but there will be a picture of five Wildpeople all in one place at one time if it kills me.

*deep breath*

I’m fine. I really am.

In fact, I’m better than fine because even though we may not have a photo . . . yet . . . at least I know what Christmas card I’ll be getting this year. It’s this one.



Isn’t it cute? Obviously the family on the card will have to go.

On second thought, they are much younger and much cuter than our family, so maybe we’ll give them one square. I’ll have to think about that.

Anyway, I want to introduce you to Magnet Street Christmas cards. These are so cute, both classic and contemporary at the same time.

Here are a few of my favorites.






Magnet Street is a great company which is owned by a great family. And they are also the world’s leading supplier of save-the-date wedding magnets.



(Get this, their website offers over 2,000 different styles of save-the-date cards and magnets! That's a lot to choose from!)

But they do so much more than that. They offer wedding invitations. (I think this letterpress design is beautiful and elegant.)



They also do baby announcements and business stationery, too.

But I really like their Christmas cards. You can even get a magnetic Christmas card—isn’t that cool?



I messed around on their website for a while and found it really easy to navigate. Plus, here's another great feature--you can totally customize your Christmas cards by changing the colors or the fonts or the text. Even with hundreds of great designs, your card can be uniquely your own.

Today, just because they love me and I love them, Magnet Street is offering my readers (that would be YOU!) at 15% discount on your Christmas card order. Just enter the promo code EFFA373Z7E at checkout.

Head on over there now and check out all of their great designs--anything from magnetic Christmas cards, 4 x 9 Christmas cards, and two sizes of folded cards--they've got it all. And don't forget your 15% discount!

Merry Christmas!

Now tell me . . . when do you like to get your Christmas cards out? Are you a before-Thanksgiving person? Or a sometime-in-January person? Or do you get them delivered on time?

Disclaimer: Magnet Street is giving me some free Christmas cards in exchange for this post. Thank you. And have a nice day.

Christmas 2009: A Recap

In the land of

. . . cacti




. . . and citrus



. . . and mountains,



we cooked



. . . and played games



. . . (and some slept while we played games)



. . . and hugged



. . . and ate great food




. . . and WON!!!



But best of all, we made new friends.



[This is Adam who read my blog posts about the Greek wedding we attended last summer. He told my parents that if I ever came to Tucson he would cook a lamb dinner for me. On our last night there, my parents had a party for several of their friends and, true to his word, Adam brought the lamb. He also brought Greek potatoes and a noodle dish that I can't remember the name of. But it was all yummy, and Adam was lovely. I'll never forget that special meal. Thanks, Adam!]

Sugar, Sugar. Aw, Honey, Honey!

Seems like all of a sudden everyone's thoughts have turned to Thanksgiving. Forget that Halloween isn't even here yet; I've already had people asking me what we're doing for Thanksgiving.

And may I just now say that I don't know yet what we're doing for Thanksgiving. No plans. Yet. We don't have family nearby, so we often end up just doing something with the five of us. It always feels a little pathetic to not do something with family, but that's just the way it is.

We'll see family at Christmas.

Anyway, all this talk about Thanksgiving got me to thinking about a Thanksgiving many years ago when we did still have family in the area. B and I had been married a few years and were expecting our first baby. I still remember the mystery of being newly-pregnant and going through the holidays. We'd sit and dream of the next Christmas when we'd actually have a baby with us. Would it be a boy or a girl? (We didn't find out . . . the first time anyway.) What would our lives look like with a baby? (Good thing they don't tell you ahead of time.)

All that dreaming. And eating. Oh to be able to eat like I was pregnant again!

Who am I kidding? I put on 50 pounds with each kid. I ate like a horse and looked like one too.

But I digress. . . . That year we spent Thanksgiving with B's family. His mom would make the turkey dinner, and I was to bring the pies. I spent the day before Thanksgiving baking, what else? . . . pumpkin pies. And one pecan pie, too, because that's my personal favorite.

B's brothers were there, and I think my sister-in-law, Julie, was a part of the family by then too. We had a great day together, eating the feast that my mother-in-law had prepared and sleeping in front of the football games.

Sometime in the late afternoon we decided our turkey had finally moved over and made room for dessert, so I went to the kitchen, cut my pies, and proudly served the pieces with real whipped cream. B and I were the only ones to take the pecan pie--I guess his family is big on the pumpkin.

We all moved back into the living room to watch more football. I don't think the cushions even cooled before we plopped back down in front of the T.V. Don't you just love Thanksgiving?!

Shortly after we started eating our dessert, I noticed B's dad slowly get up and wander into the kitchen. A couple of minutes later he came back with a piece of pecan pie.

"Hungry, Dad?" we asked him.

"Oh, you know. It's Thanksgiving. You have to try a little of everything."

A couple of minutes later, B's brother got up and wandered to the kitchen too, coming back with a piece of pecan pie. Then his mom did the same.

To tell you the truth, I didn't think much about it. There was definitely something going on in the kitchen, but I figured they just loved my pie so much that they wanted more.

At the end of the day we started packing up to go home. As any good guest would do, I offered to leave some of my pie with my in-laws.

"Here," I offered, "why don't you keep a couple of pieces for your lunch tomorrow?"

"Oh no, you keep it." My mother-in-law practically pushed the half-full pie plate out the door with me.

Later, when we were alone in the car, I asked B if he had noticed all the going in and out of the kitchen during dessert. And didn't he think it was weird that his mom didn't want to keep any of the pie? There was no way we could eat all that was left over, and she was certainly not the type of person to waste anything. It just seemed odd that she would let all that delicious pumpkin pie go to waste.

Whatever. We just shrugged our shoulders and forgot about it.

Until the next day. B had to work, but I had the day off, so when it was time for lunch I thought I'd feed my baby a nutritious lunch of pumpkin pie. I've always been interested in nutrition that way.

I sliced myself a piece of pie and added whipped cream to the top because, you know, the baby needs her dairy. And I took my first bite of that perfect looking pie.

And quickly spat it into the sink.

That beautiful looking pumpkin pie was the absolutely worst thing I had ever tasted! In my pregnant state I may have been just a tad forgetful because I had left the sugar out of the pie. It was like eating pumpkin straight out of the can. Absolutely awful.

My mind quickly went back to the day before as each member of B's family had quietly gotten up from eating their pie and taken it to the kitchen, returning with a piece of pecan pie. And how they didn't want to keep any of the leftovers. It all made sense now. They had been too polite to tell my that my pie tasted like hooey. They simply tossed it out and exchanged it for something a little better.

I immediately picked up the phone and called B at work to tell him what I had done. And then I called my in-laws to apologize and to ask them why they didn't tell me about it at Thanksgiving dinner. They just laughed and said they didn't want me to feel bad, but also added that there was no way they were going to keep any of that pie!

The sugarless pumpkin pie has gone down in family lore. We still, to this day, laugh about that awful pie. And I can't look at a piece of pumpkin pie without chuckling at my big mistake.

So, spill it. Have you ever had a holiday disaster? Or a pregnancy-induced disaster? I want to know.

Give me a call, we'll go trick or treating together

I was reminded this week about why I dislike Halloween so much.

As if I needed another reason to dislike Halloween. This from the woman who calls herself the Halloween Grinch.

Anyway, my big revelation this week was all about the Halloween drama. About a month before Halloween, kids start asking, "Who are you going trick or treating with?" A month! A month is a long time in kiddom, folks. And once you commit, you're stuck. But if you don't commit, you're out.

It's a fine and trickly line they walk, let me tell you.

But I digress . . .

Let me use my own experiences as an example of what I'm sort of talking about. See, I grew up on a farm and trick or treating from a farm can be either A) time-consuming, B) embarrassing, or C) exhausting. All three, if you were me.

See, when I was very young, trick or treating meant packing us little kids into the car and driving to some of our neighbors' houses. Of course, our neighbors were all old farmers and their wives made homemade popcorn balls instead of giving out the Baby Ruths, so that was a bummer unto itself. Plus I had to go with my mom, so . . . another bummer. In the end, your little treat sack had about three pieces of candy in it for all the effort, and by the time you had driven around to get these three gross lucious, homemade treats it was dark and you were tired.

See what I mean?

And talk about embarrassing. One year, I distinctly remember dressing up as a cowgirl with a snazzy costume complete with a swirly skirt, cowboy boots, a lasso, and a mask. I looked amazing. But that night, as it so often does in October, the weather had taken quite a turn, so my mom made me wear my winter coat OVER MY COSTUME. Are you kidding me, Mom? I was so mad, I don't think I even got out of the car that year.

I lived for junior high when I could go to town and walk around trick or treating with my friends. But the problems were manifold with that.

My first problem was finding some friends who lived in town AND who would ask me to join their group trick or treating. I always felt like a third wheel, like I just didn't belong with them since they had all been trick or treating on their own for so long and I just wasn't as refined in the area of house to house sales, if you will.

The second problem I encountered was actually hinting enough to get someone to even ask me to go with them. Junior high kids are clueless. They just don't notice if someone doesn't have anyone else to hang out with on Halloween. It's like they just don't even care if someone is on their own.

(Not that I have any Halloween baggage or anything.)

And that's where the drama begins. Finding the right group is one thing. Getting someone to notice you is another altogether.

For some reason, it seems like Halloween conjures up all kinds of likes-me-likes-me-not stuff, especially with girls. It brings with it the stigma of the "right" costume, the "most fun" friends, the "coolest" treat bag. And the stigma of not getting asked at all, leaving you with the very real possibility of driving around in the car with Mom and Dad and wearing your winter coat over your costume.

Not that we'd know anything about all that around here this week. . . .

How about you? What's your Halloween baggage?

Fireworks

The weather was “iffy” last night, and cool, so we decided that rather than watching the fireworks from blankets on the rain-soaked ground, we’d just head to the Target parking lot and watch from the back of the car. We’ve watched the fireworks there before, and we knew we’d be able to see enough—just not the low-to-the-ground displays.

Of course, we forgot to bring chairs of any sort, and all five of us couldn’t fit in the back of the van, so it took us a little while to figure out exactly where each of us would sit. Once the fireworks started and we could see that we couldn’t see, we headed over toward a grassy area where other people were gathered.

I’ve always had a fascination with fireworks. How someone could pack the sounds and sparkles and colors and happiness of a million little specks of light into one cylinder is beyond my comprehension. It seems dangerous and dark, yet thrilling all at once. Every year I tell myself, “You’ve seen it before, don’t get excited.” And yet, every year I feel like a kid again as the sparkling and the twinkling and the crashing begins.

I can “ooh” and “aah” with the best of them. Just ask my kids.

My favorites are the ones that look like willow trees—they come spraying out all golden and then end up with millions of tiny diamonds that twinkle their way down to the ground. It’s just magical to me, and I sometimes wonder if I headed back to the fairgrounds the next day to take a look around if I’d find even one of those sparkly diamonds waiting for me in the grass.

As we stood and watched the fireworks, I began to notice the people around me. Little kids, no older than five, were running everywhere—everywhere!—at full speed, and I turned to B and said, “Remember that feeling when you were a kid and you could run as fast as you could forever?”

We both agreed that we’d love to feel like that again, even for a few minutes.

The grassy field near us was filling up with fast-running little kids twirling neon glow sticks, their parents sitting in portable lawn chairs next to the curb. Teenagers on dates sat on blankets nearby. And my little clan huddled together, enjoying the moment, even if it was for the sake of tradition.

Next to me sat an old man with whom I presume was his daughter. She was in her late-50s or early-60s, and he looked to be well into his 80s. They both sat quietly, side by side, not talking much but occasionally glancing at one another, smiling.

I took a good long look at this man, his hands gnarled and spotted, his knuckles swollen with age. He wore black pants, a black checked dress shirt underneath a gray cardigan that was so old it was pilled all over. On top of his head he wore an old-fashioned hat, the kind that comes together at the bill—is it a driving cap or an ivy cap? He wore white Converse tennis shoes and white athletic socks. All-in-all he was dressed quite well for a fireworks display.

Partway through the fireworks, I noticed that the man was struggling with something in his hand. It was a miniature Kit Kat bar that he was having a little trouble opening. After a couple of minutes, though, he had success, and I watched him as he enjoyed his little treat for the evening, a slight smile creeping to the edge of his mouth.

I wondered about this man and his daughter. What made them head to the Target parking lot together to watch fireworks with the younger families? Did she do it as a special treat for him? Did they have some sort of tradition of watching fireworks together, just the two of them? Did they somehow, in some unspoken way, know that this could possibly be the last fireworks display that the old man would ever get to see?

As I pondered them, I found myself getting choked up. Tears came to my eyes as I wondered how many fireworks displays this man had seen in his life and how many he would have yet to see.

I looked at my little brood sitting all around me, happy with the effort we had made to get to the fireworks, and thought, “I hope they all have the opportunity to sit with their own sons or daughters when they are 85 and watch fireworks together.” What a blessing that would be.

And I hope that when I’m 85, should God give me that many years, I’ll be sitting in the Target parking lot or wherever I am, still enjoying the childlike thrill of watching diamonds fall from the sky.

Remembering Our Heroes

Last year on Memorial Day my sister, Jenn, my niece, Kira, and I visited Arlington National Cemetery. Truth be told, it was kind of whim--we were in town, and we took the hop-on-hop-off bus around D.C. that day. One of the stops just happened to be Arlington which, we had heard the night before on the news, had some pretty big Memorial Day events going on.

So we thought we'd check it out.

I'd say "pretty big" is an understatement.

I don't think I'll ever forget roaming the grounds, astounded that someone had taken the time to put a small flag next to each and every headstone. Or seeing the loved ones who had traveled long distances to be there on that day. Or witnessing the Presidential motorcade driving right past us, taking then-president Bush to the ceremony. It truly is an amazing sight, and if you ever have the chance to experience Arlington on Memorial Day, you should.

Yesterday in church, one of our pastors, who is himself a veteran, asked all the veterans in church that day to stand. They did, and the rest of us spontaneously broke out with clapping (believe me, if you know our church, you know what a big deal that is!). Again, an amazing experience to be able to personally honor, in some small way, those who have served our country well.

Today, please take time to thank a veteran for the part they have played in providing the freedom that is so precious to us. And if you can't do that, then thank God for the country in which we live and for those who have died to protect us.

I'm a little worried about myself . . . I'm crafting.

I've written before about how I definitely did NOT get the crafty gene. It takes just about every ounce of energy in these tired old bones to get out the glue gun. In fact, I usually have one of the girls get it out for me because, frankly, I don't really know where we keep the glue gun.

But a few weeks back, as I was perusing the Williams Sonoma catalog full of beautiful things I drool over but can't afford, I noticed these little cuties.



They are sweet little nests made of twigs and moss, filled with little blue eggs, that hide underneath those great glass jars. Cute huh? That teeny-tiny one over on the left hand side is $39 and you can order it if you want. I think I'll take a pass.

But it got me to thinking about how cute those little nests would be on my Easter table. For some reason, just thinking about it got the crafty juices flowing, plus I got to thinking about what a great mom I would be if I did an Easter craft with my kids, or even one of them, so Maggie and I headed to Hobby Lobby.

I bought what I thought would be the necessary supplies, but not entirely sure because, after all, I was making up this craft in my head and I could only guess as to what I would need. Maggie assured me I was doing the right thing, even though my hands were sweating and my head was screaming, "Don't do this! You can't do this! Don't even try!"

Well, after surviving that minefield, I was done in, so I left the Hobby Lobby bag sitting on my bedroom floor for, oh, about two weeks. But on Friday, Maggie insisted that we actually try to accomplish the craft we had set out to make.

So we did. And I am so proud of our crafty achievement that I just have to share it with you all here. They are just so cute you may want to host a springtime brunch just so you can make these.

My talents are quite limited, so we kept the supply list simple. Tiny grapevine wreaths, moss, and hot glue. That's it. See? Even a monkey could do it.





Make a flat, round pancake out of the moss.



Hot glue the bottom of the wreath and set it on the moss pancake.



Put some more hot glue around the sides of the wreath, and form the moss around the wreath, creating a nest.





Finally, we filled our nests with candy bird eggs and put a placecard on top of each.



Here's a look at my Easter table when everything was finished. It was so Springy and cheerful, and it made me happy.

Christmas Tour of Homes

Well, I'm late to the party, as usual. I hope Boo Mama doesn't mind.

Even though I'm late, I wanted to invite you in to my home and to show you some of my favorite Chrismas decorations.

Let's start in the family room where most of the decorations are anyway. Here's our tree, or at least part of our tree. Last year we got a new tree that's about 9 feet tall, a little on the slim side, and, here's the best part, pre-lit! Consequently, I can't really show you the whole tree at once, but here's the bottom half . . .


And here's the top half . . .


Every year my parents give each of my girls a Lenox ornament which I absolutely love. As their collections have grown, my tree has certainly gotten more beautiful. This year our tree is mostly adorned with these ornaments, and I think it's lovely. Unfortunately, in just a few short years when my girls leave home and take their Lenox ornaments with them, my tree will be seriously lacking.


My mantle is simple this year--just a few greens and pine cones--but I like it that way. The stocking holders are simple silver with candles sitting on top. (And, yes, Thunder gets her own stocking!)


Now, let's take a closer look at one of those stockings. My mom has made one for each of her grandchildren when they were born, and I think they are just about the most beautiful Christmas things we own. The designs are by Mary Beale, who is a cross stitch designer who--I found out after I already had the stockings--lives right down the street from me and who also attends my church! Isn't that weird?!

Anyway, here's Kate's stocking:


If the stockings are my most beautiful Christmas decorations, I'd have to say these little gems are my most treasured. I have a handprint wreath for each of my girls--they made them when they were in preschool, and I absolutely love those little handprints. So precious.


Probably one of the best ideas I had this year was to adorn my transom windows with greenery and candles. I have thirteen transoms in my family room, so it's kind of impressive when you see it. Here's what they look like:




Finally, my sister gave me this little doorknob hanger a few years back. It's a prayer that I pray regularly for our little family. I pray the same for yours.


Have a very merry Christmas!

Ho, Ho, Ho . . . Where did the time go?

Well, the holidays are upon us and with that brings cookie baking, party going, and guests arriving.

And very little time for blogging.

So the next few days might seem a little weird around here, as in not-too-much-blogging-going-on, but keep checking back. You might get a little surprise here and there.

I am so excited about this weekend because some people we met in Switzerland who actually live in Spain are coming to visit. I always worry when new people come to visit us because we have this dog, see, and the Wonder Dog is pretty darn friendly. I'm just hoping she won't bowl them over with her "friendliness."

At least she's clean--she spent the ENTIRE day at the groomer spa yesterday because her mama got the drop-off time wrong (showed up an hour early--oops!) and didn't have time to pick her up all day. Good thing she loves beeing cooped up in a cage at the PetSmart.

Anyway, be sure to check back in on Monday because I am taking part in Boo Mama's Annual Christmas Tour of Homes. Not that they are anything special, but I will give you a small peek into our Christmas decorations.



So I'm off to eat cookies and to party with my pals. See you back here on Monday!

Quick! Hide the cookies!

When B was a much younger boy, his mom had to hide food. Imagine, a house full of boys and she had to HIDE the food.

In fact, when things got really bad, she resorted to putting a lock on her chest freezer in the basement. (Being an English teacher, I realize that I'm bordering on misplaced modifier in the previous sentence, but GET YOUR MIND OUT OF THE GUTTER! That's my mother-in-law we're talking about.)

Back to business . . .

When I first came into the family and heard stories of all this food-hiding and freezer-locking, I have to admit, I was appalled. Having grown up in a household full of girls who ate just the right amount, no more and no less, and who actually ate slowly then sat around for the conversation after the meal, it was hard to get my brain around B's family's habits. It was a bit of culture shock for me.

After 23 years of living with this boy, however, I have grown to relate to my mother-in-law on a whole new level. The food level.

Last night I had a small plate of cookies sitting out on the counter which were left over from earlier in the day when a couple of ladies stopped by. This statement in itself would just leave B scratching his head. "Cookies . . . left over?" Does not compute.

Anyway, the cookies were sitting on the counter as B came through the door and, as is his custom, he ate one. Before dinner. Oh, don't get me started.

And then he asked, "Is this all you have of these? They're my favorite."

I slyly smiled and shook my head. "No, there are more."

"Where are they?"

"You think I'm telling you? Not a chance, Buddy!" O.K., those exact words probably didn't come out of my mouth, but something like that was implied.

Suddenly, the lightbulb went on in B's head. His eyes got wide, and he turned to look at me. "You're hiding food, aren't you?"

Ya think?!

We're having guests this weekend. OF COURSE I'm hiding food! And not just from B. We also have three daughters who love these cookies too.

And so, in honor of my beloved family who could easily find the cookies if they wanted to (hey, his mother is not the only woman in his life with a chest freezer), I'm giving you the recipe for our favorite Christmas cookies.

These are called Brun Brot, and they are a Swedish cookie which I learned how to make from my dear college roommate, Bonnie. Bonnie was a Swede-of-all-Swedes--too blonde for words. And, thanks to that lovely Swedish complexion, she looks the same today as she did in college.

Every so often Bonnie would grab a pound of butter and make these delicious yummys. I started making them a few years ago, and now my family begs me to make them every year at Christmas. They are so easy to make, I should do them more often than just at Christmas, but for some reason I don't. I want to keep them special.

A couple of weeks ago, when I made my "stash," I actually took pictures to help guide you through the process. So here we go . . .

Brun Brot (Swedish Cookies)

3 sticks of butter, softened
2 Tbs. Karo syrup (light or dark)
2 tsp. almond flavoring
1 C. sugar
1/2 C. brown sugar
3 C. flour
1 tsp. baking soda
Colored sugar

Mix all ingredients together except the colored sugar. (Bonnie says it works best if you do it by hand. I'm a bit funny when it comes to stuff like that, so I use a mixer. You do whatever you like.)

Place on a cookie sheet in 4-6 long ropes. Barely pat down the tops of the ropes and sprinkle with colored sugar.

Bake at 350 for 10-15 minutes or until barely brown.

This is how they look when they come out of the oven.


After the ropes have been out of the oven for just a few minutes, cut them into strips. (Don't let them get too cool or they won't cut easily.)


Here's how they look when they're done.


Enjoy!

And hide them, quick!

Anything for ratings

Since I'm such the blogger now (yeah, right, I hardly think of myself that way), I thought it would be fun to participate in a couple of holiday bloggy things. (Good sentence, huh? You'd never know I used to be an English teacher.)

Anyway, tomorrow Lysa TerKeurst is hosting a Cool Christmas Giveaway, and I've decided to play. Primarily because I love Lysa, but also because this is just the time of year to give stuff away. So check back tomorrow to see what I've come up with. We'll both be surprised!

The second "bloggy thing" I'm going to participate in will happen on December 15 when Sophie at Boo Mama is hosting a virtual Christmas open house of sorts. So come back on the 15th to get a little glimpse of what the Wild household looks like at Christmas.



Jingle Jingle, everybody!

7 Quick Takes Friday

I tried it last week . . . and I liked it! So here we go again with another "Quick Takes" Friday. Hop on over to Conversion Diary to see the complete list of players.

-1-
If you don't have family in town for Thanksgiving, and if the rest of your family heads out of town, and if you need something to do for the holiday that does not involve sitting around your house feeling like losers, may I strongly suggest heading to the city for a few days. We got back this afternoon and feel like we've been on vacation, even though we were only gone for about 48 hours. I suppose we technically were on vacation, but going to Chicago, where we go pretty regularly and where my husband goes about once a week on average, doesn't usually count as vacation to us.

The main reason to head to the city, especially for Thanksgiving, is because nobody else is there. On Wednesday we just about had the place to ourselves. We walked everywhere except for dinner on Wednesday, and we did not have to deal with huge crowds at all. In fact, our hotel was practially deserted on Wednesday night. By Friday things had picked up significantly, but if you ever want to have the city to yourself, go on the day before Thanksgiving. Awesome.

-2-
Macy's will always be Marshall Field's to me. We were faithful Marshall Field's shoppers when I was a little girl, but unfortunately my girls will not have the same experience with Macy's. I'm just not as loyal to them because I don't think they've been loyal to me. The quality, and, frankly, the cache, just isn't the same as it used to be. I desperately miss Marshall Field's.

Nevertheless, we did traipse through the State Street store to see the magnificent Christmas tree in the Walnut Room. It was worth the trip because the tree was beautiful.


Sorry to say, I can't say the same for the windows which were freaky-weird.

-3-
A few years ago, when the City of Chicago built Millenium Park, they put in an ice skating rink. What a grand idea! The girls and I had a great time dodging little kids and tourists who had never seen ice before as the sun set over the city and the lights came on all around us. Despite some bumps and bruises, along with great doses of humiliation, we managed to create some especially sweet memories.


-4-
I'll admit it, sometimes when we take family outings, I don't prepare myself mentally before I go. Disaster in the making, let me tell you. So this time, as a bit of an experiment, I decided to prepare myself ahead of time. I spent some time in prayer before I left, asking God to help me be the bearer of good attitudes and not bad ones this week. I also determined ahead of time that these couple of days were not about me, but about the entire family having fun. Realizing that "if Mama ain't happy, nobody's happy," I decided ahead of time to just . . . be happy.

You know what? It works. It really works! These were a couple of the happiest days we have had together as a family. We all got along. We were all flexible. We enjoyed our time together. Now, maybe that's because we all needed a break and some fun times together, but I also think it had something to do with having a positive attitude on my part.

I should really try that more often. Like every day.

-5-

We attended the Thanksgiving Day Parade on State Street yesterday. Kind of a shabby second to the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade in New York, but it was still kind of fun. B scored some tickets for the grandstand because his bank was one of the sponsors of the parade this year, so we were able to actually sit through the parade. Bonus!

But the biggest bonus of all was the weather--45 degrees and sunny. You just don't get a prettier Thanksgiving Day in Chicago. Ever. So we enjoyed our time outside all morning with about 5,000 other strangers in the grandstands getting all sorts of treats that were being handed out by the sponsors of the parade. (No, the bank did not hand out samples of money.)

The funniest part of this whole parade thing is that, even though we had sat through three hours of bands and shows and big balloons, we came home this afternoon and WATHCED IT AGAIN!! Why? Because we're vain, that's why. We wanted to see if we made it onto T.V. And we did. Kate and Abby even got a close-up! Because they were two of the most beautiful girls in the stands. They're famous now.

-6-
We hit Michigan Avenue at 9:00 this morning. I caught this gorgeous picture of one of my favorite sights in the city at an hour when the traffic had barely started and the sun was just hitting the sides of the buildings. I do love this city.


-7-
The holiday season has officially started, and one of our favorite parts of the season is watching our favorite Christmas movies. We have already watched "A Christmas Story," laughing all the way through and saying almost every line along with the actors. And we can't wait to watch even more. "Christmas with the Kranks," "While You Were Sleeping," "White Christmas," "Holiday Inn," and, of course, "It's a Wonderful Life" must be watched at some point throughout the holidays.

Tonight we watched "The Family Man" because it was being played on T.V. and we always love that movie. If you haven't seen it, be sure you watch it sometime this year. It's a movie about a self-centered, self-made man who dreams of what his life would have been like if he had married his college sweetheart. A couple of lines in that movie just get to me every time. Like when Jack, contemplating a big job in the city with lots more money, says to his wife, "We'll have a life everyone envies," and she tells him, "We already do." Or when his wife comes to him to say that if he needs to take the big job in the city she will uproot her kids and her dreams and move with him because "a family is more important than an address, and I choose us." Ahhhh. Yes.

After three wonderful days together as a family, I choose us too.

Thankful Things

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving, but since I may be unplugged for a couple of days, I wanted to leave a list of things I am so thankful for. Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

1. My husband who does all he does out of love for his girls
2. My daughters who do their best in everything they put their mind to
3. My health
4. Our church
5. Our new pastor who's coming to our church soon
6. My family – all of them
7. My home
8. My car that seems to be on its last leg but still gets me around town
9. The opportunity to speak to the women of our church next week
10. Hawthorne School and all that entails
11. My neighborhood which is close to everything so that if my car should actually lose it, I could still walk and do my life
12. Thunder the Wonder Dog
13. Food Network
14. That I got to take the trip of a lifetime with Kate this year
15. My husband’s job and the fact that he still has one these days
16. Switzerland
17. Missionaries who do what I could never do
18. Action International and the people there who keep B grounded
19. My blog – the best creative outlet I’ve had in years
20. Good food
21. Trader Joe’s :)
22. That I got to travel a lot this year and that I was healthy enough to do it
23. Friends who challenge me to be a better person
24. Beauty all around me
25. The Greatest Gift of all - Jesus



You are my God, and I will give you thanks;
You are my God, and I will exalt you.
Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good;
his love endures forever.
Psalm 118: 28-29