even cameron said he stepped on the line

We had a spirited discussion in YW yesterday, not about pants or gender equality, but about how I refused to make them sandwiches with Miracle Whip.  It offends me to even type Miracle Whip, I hate it so much.  I would rather eat a dry sandwich or no sandwich at all than a sandwich befouled by that demon pretender to the condiment throne.

We got out our Playmobil nativity set last night, and just in time, because the children were running out of stupid things to fight about.  For a while they pretended to be doctors examining imaginary stool samples from the wise men, then they moved all the capes and hair and beards around and had a lovely time making Mary into a bearded lady.  I used to get more upset about this kind of thing, because I felt like maybe it was sacrilegious, but now eh.  I think there's space between the actual Holy Family and plastic toy incarnations of them.

Grant lost his handball game today and is sad.

Emmett has a piano Master Class today and is happy.

Ike is being a melodramatic wuss about his minor cough, and is happy about the attention.

Willa got to play Super Mario on the DS and is happy.

ate an a- a- apple, blew some b- b- bubbles

I guess I'd better check in and let the universe know how our family is doing.  WE'RE DOING FINE, UNIVERSE.  BUT I'D LIKE IT IF THE KIDS WOULD STOP FIGHTING.

We bought a Christmas tree this year, from the nursery, because my parents are going to be in Australia for half of December, and didn't want the hassle and mess, and we figured if they weren't going to harvest a tree, neither were we.  I didn't like paying almost fifty bucks for something I could have chopped down myself, but I did like not having to go into the woods and harvest it myself, because when you say, "Let's go cut down our Christmas tree," all I hear is "Let's go somewhere cold where there are no bathrooms."

John is wearing all nice clothes to work today because he's doing an interview with a DJ to get Voice Male's music on the Sunday program on her station.  He looks very nice when he dresses up.  I tease him, but I will say that he understands when he needs to look nice, so I don't really mind if he looks like a pig the rest of the time.  I look like a pig, why shouldn't he?  Tit for tat, as they say.

Grant is done with one league of basketball and about to start two more, as well as indoor soccer.  I didn't think this one through very clearly.  But a tired dog is a good dog, as they say.  I guess I can drive him all over creation if it keeps him out of mischief.  It's winter--what else am I going to do?  I HATE WINTER.

Emmett has started swim team and has his first meet on Saturday.  We bought him one of those fancy suits that look like compression shorts. He wore them to practice the other night and says he can tell he's much faster with them on.  He plays "The Little Drummer Boy" about a hundred times a day.

Ike is a full-fledged stuffed animal hoarder, and I am an enabler.  It makes gift-giving so easy!  He buried Willa's dead rabbit the other day, digging the hole all by himself.  Last night at our ward party he went up and sat down next to an older woman and had quite a lengthy conversation with her.  He is such an interesting child.

Willa had pinkeye and was a total pain in the butt about the eye drops.  She decorated most of the Christmas tree by herself, which made me happy and the boys angry.  She can finally give the proper answers to those brutal rhyming questions on her worksheets, and she can read a fair number of sight words.  When Grant was in kindergarten and I was even more of a parenting ignoramus than I am now, I was irritated that the learn-to-read books had pictures of the words they were learning.  "They'll just look at the picture and know that it says 'fox'!"  But now I think maybe they put the pictures there on purpose, so that in the future when the child encounters that assortment of letters they have a mental picture to refer to, and they will know, "Oh!  That assortment of letters means 'fox'."  I could be wrong.

I am going to bake twenty dozen ginger lemon sandwich cookies today.

they're first to see the sun, they must tell everyone

John was gone on a business trip all last week, and I came through it intact.  It wasn't nearly as terrible as it could have been, although my children did watch a lot more TV and play a lot more computer games than normal.  He was in Orlando for part of the time, and went to Islands of Adventure, where he discovered, on a ride he has already experienced, that he is a tiny bit arachnophobic.

I'm trying to write a novel in November.  It's going okay, but I'm only about 1/5 as far as I should be right now.  

Grant has been playing a lot of basketball lately, and he's quite good at practice or with our family, but once he gets on the court and people start really getting in his face he turns tentative and unsure of himself.  We keep telling him, "Mustache feeling!"  The Tick is such a good example of so many correct principles.  I appreciate him and the help he gives me in raising my children correctly.  

Emmett has started piano lessons with the same woman who taught me and all my sisters, and she is the best ever.  He came buzzing out of her house last week, jumped in the car and said, "SHE IS THE BEST PIANO TEACHER EVER."  He has gotten up early every day since then to practice the piano.  I know it won't last, but it sure is nice.  He wants to start doing swim team, which I think would be good for him.  He also had the best day ever at his program today, because they got  to pretend they were attending Hogwarts and had to buy all the stuff.  The only dark spot is that the rules of four-square are ever-changing, and vary from school to school, and he can hold forth at  prodigious length about the injustice and complexity of it all.  

Ike has started Cub Scouts, and he thinks it's the greatest thing ever.  He was tardy yesterday because he was talking to his first-grade teacher.  I guess it's probably time for him to start piano as well.  I don't see him as a long-term pianist.  Maybe a tuba player--tubist?  

Willa is progressing on those horrible yellow worksheets.  Having experienced the same kind of difficulty with two children now, I must conclude that the yellow worksheets are not a good fit for my children's learning style.  She throws a lot of tantrums, but she is also very sweet and kind and helpful, so I guess it's a wash.  

you better stop the things that you do

Here are some pictures from our California vacation.  We left on a Friday afternoon and the kids had found all of their Waldos before we even hit St. George.  I told them the story about how Brigham Young hated the steeple of the St. George temple, but they put it on anyway, and then after Brigham Young died lightning struck the steeple and burned it down.  I actually sang the story to the tune of "I Love to See the Temple" because I'm talented like that.  

We drove them down the Strip so they could see what a weird, wild place Las Vegas is.  They were suitably impressed by the architecture, especially Caesar's Palace.  

 Our boys enjoyed the ABYSMAL breakfast at our hotel in Henderson.

We went to Little Corona del Mar beach and looked at the tide pools.  They were pretty good.  I'm just glad we got a picture of Emmett crouching like Gollum. 

Ike is being rakishly handsome.  

Willa being a good sport about the many sharp rocks and her being shoeless.  She never quite got brave enough to touch an anemone.  

We found this weird bug about the size of a June bug crawling around on the patio of our rental house, which we quite enjoyed and would use again.  

Grant and Landon are psyched for Small World.  

Willa on the BORING carousel.  Lagoon's is way better.  Even King Triton's carousel has different kinds of sea creatures.  Get it together, Fantasyland!

Our children look like demons in the courtyard of Medieval Times.  

Emmett got barfy sick and missed out on a few days of our fun times.  Thank goodness we got those four-day tickets.  He finally got better and enjoyed the Lego store very much.  

This is the best picture we got of our whole family, thanks to Ike and Willa being weirdos.  

We even took a picture with some princesses, but only because the line was so short. Don't get me started on princesses.  

ESPECIALLY Ariel.  Ariel is probably my least favorite princess of all.  She's ungrateful and sells her most precious attribute to get the attention of an inconstant, weak-minded boy.  She and Eric deserve each other.  

I hate when my pictures won't rotate.  This is Willa's macaroni at the Cafe Orleans.  I am so easily pleased.  The slightest incremental improvement over blue box is much applauded, and this was quite good macaroni.  

And this is the Monte Cristo that I ate and enjoyed every bite of, but I think it might still be in my stomach.  John and Richard took the boys and Emma to the beach, and Jenny and I were there with just Kate and Willa, and I decided to seize the day, since it would probably be a long, long time before I was in Disneyland without so many kids that eating at a restaurant would bankrupt me.  So Jenny and I ate our terrible, wonderful sandwiches and saw our works that they were  good.  

It was a wonderful vacation.  The drive wasn't nearly as horrifying as I feared, we had a great house with plenty of room to kick around in, we were there with great friends, and we left right as Kate and Willa were starting to come apart from all their missed sleep.  Just the right amount of time.  I would do it again.  

just touch my cheek before you leave

I read an obnoxious comment on a blog the other day, in which someone made a comparison between a Mormon temple and the sorts of earthy temples you find in other countries, in which all are welcome, and snidely commented that the latter were closer to reality, reminding you of the spirit and inspiration to be found in everyday life, not just once a week, not and then said those sorts of temples were "inclusive, not exclusive."  I almost had an aneurysm, I was so annoyed.  First issue:  who ever implied that one can only feel close to God within the walls of a Mormon temple, or that feeling inspiration there precludes feeling inspiration elsewhere?  And yes, if there's one complaint I would have about Mormonism, it's that it only affects my life one day a week.  Give me a break.  Second issue:  yes, Mormons are very exclusive.  We don't want anybody in our temples.  That's why we send our young men and women out in droves to pester the living daylights out of everybody in every country of the world, trying to get them to join our church and get temple recommends.  Look, do you want to be in our temple, or do you want us to leave you alone?  Do you want us to try to involve you in our lives and culture, or do you want us to ignore you?  Because I keep hearing complaints from people who are mad that we try to make friends with them, but then when we stop they rant about how isolationist and priggish we are.  Make up your freaking minds already.  The Mormons I know, myself included, don't really care if you convert or not.  We just like talking to people.

Sorry about that, everyone.  My complaints do not represent the official views of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.

All the youth of the temple district did a huge cultural celebration on Saturday night.  It was cheesy as can be, but so inspiring.  The kids worked so hard to get the program ready, and to see their bright, shining faces as they participated in something unlike anything your typical teenager would be doing, to see a complete lack of cynicism as they sang and danced, to see their total unity and dedication to doing their best, was awesome.  It was beautiful.  I was so proud of them.

We had our temple dedication on Sunday, which was wonderful.  If I were being flippant, I would say how nice it is that we no longer have to share our temple with the unwashed heathens who think they are as holy as we are, but I'm not flippant, so I won't say that.  I finally found the bumblebees in the peach blossoms on the ceiling of the sealing room.  It took me forever.  I can't tell you how much it tickles me that there are bumblebees in the sealing room.  The dedication was beautiful, and it was a very unique and moving experience to be inside the temple for the occasion.  To feel such a sense of camaraderie and again, unity, with the people all around us--it brought tears to my eyes.  Mormons can be jerks, just like everybody else, but at our best, we're also people who are struggling to overcome our human failings and become better servants of Christ.  It's cool to be with my people in a room that reminds us of our purpose.

made their understanding clear

Well, it's been a month of Sundays (not sure if this is technically true) since I did any pictures.  Here are some.  

 One time I made a chicken pot pie for dinner.  There was much rejoicing.  

Grant made some banana bread from our new favorite recipe, found in the comments section of one of Tipsy's posts.  

We went to the annual Brigham Implement customer appreciation breakfast.  

Rex and Groceries ate some food.   

 Ike was jazzed about something.  

 Ike and Willa were ragamuffins who love animals, and Groceries thought he was people.  

We grew some wheat.  

but you don't need to use the claw when you pick a pear from the big pawpaw

My friend Jennifer, whom you may know better as the Tipsy Baker, was here this weekend with her father to go on a tour of the temple.  I am quite fond of our little temple, and I was excited to share it with her.  I'm glad we've been able to usher and clean and take care of it, because it's made me feel much more proprietary of it, like that fish with the bubbles in Finding Nemo.

Saturday was Ike's baptism, and it was delightful.  When John finished saying the prayer and started to dunk him, Ike just started to do it himself, without plugging his nose or anything, like, "I've got this, Dad.  Just let me do it."  John was pushing Ike's hand up to his face to get him to plug his nose, and Ike kept pushing his hand away, and they sort of struggled back and forth like people in movies when they clash swords, until Ike figured out what was going on.  It's always an adventure when we have a baptism.  When Emmett was baptized John forgot to confirm him a member of the church, so we had to do it over.  A bunch of our family was missing from the baptism and/or luncheon, so I hate them now.  I will not be leaving any of them a goat in my will.  Well, maybe Steven and Elizabeth, because they were valiant and came up for the baptism even though they had to leave right after.  Half a goat for them.

Grant got a spot on our neighbor's basketball team, which is a relief.  Todd (we call him Toddles, but not to his face, because he might think we are weird, which is not true) is such a great coach, very patient and kind, and since Grant's other coach is moving we were sort of at loose ends.

Emmett is on the student council at the elementary school, which means he's one of the kids who turned in an application.  He's already beginning to see that the majority of the people have no interest in self-governance!

Willa's rake fell out again, but I think she's fixed.  She hasn't been putting her hands in her mouth at all.  Hopefully she'll be busy enough writing letters and cutting out shapes that she won't have time to regress.