Giving Thanks

(I love this plaque, but it isn't mine. I stole this picture off of etsy. If any of my crafsty vinyl friends want to make me one, Christmas if right around the corner, and I AM thankful for my friends . . . )

We had a great Thanksgiving. We ate our dinner on Wednesday night with our cute little fam. Last year we roasted a small turkey in our dutch oven, and it was tas-ty. This year, I bought a much smaller turkey roast and simply baked it in the oven. I also made the usual fare--mashed potatoes & gravy, homemade rolls, stuffing, and corn. Just the necessities--it was enough for us.

Lincoln loves homemade rolls, and I love a happy kid at dinner!

Aubrey is my budding vegetarian. She comments frequently about eating animals, and asks questions about what part of the animal the food comes from--always with a cautious curiosity that is a little grossed out. I think the week of discussions in school about turkeys and pilgrims, coupled with making cute little turkey art projects just about did her in. The turkey roast I put on the table was a far cry from the pinecone turkey she made at school, and she bawled--and I mean bawled--that she was supposed to eat it. 

We gave her teensy portions, but that was no consolation. 

 A much happier girl earlier in the day at her class T-day party. (Notice the pinecone turkey.)

I have nothing against vegetarians. If she chooses not to eat meat at some point in her life, that's fine with me. But for now, she is a growing child and has to at least try the food we have at meals. She can cry all she wants, then have a bite later when she's still hungry and wants something else. There are two options in our house at meal time--take it or leave it. 

So anyway, to distract from her fit and bring us back to what it was we were supposed to be celebrating, we went around the table sharing what we are thankful for. Jace grunted. Lincoln said mom and dad. I said daddy and all his hard work for us. Aubrey skipped and wanted to go last. Gavin said he was thankful for mommy and explained to the kids about how I carried them in my belly and gave them life--to which Lincoln started talking about when he was a baby and I gave him 'mowky' (glancing at my chest as he talks). WHAT?!? There's no way he remembers that, but I was quick to redirect back to Aubrey. She said she was thankful for Ms. Howe--her teacher at school. You better believe she wasn't saying that a month or so ago, so we're making positive progress.

So eat, eat, whine, cry, ignore, eat--that was our meal. After dinner, we cleared the table all except for Aubrey and her plate. At this point she says she wants to go to bed, she is too tired to eat. We won't let her go to bed until 7:30 at the earliest, so she sits there and keeps crying. We had invited the missionaries for dessert, and reminded Aubrey once again that she wouldn't have dessert without eating her dinner. 

I had the dishwasher 1/2 way loaded when Aubrey got up to retrieve the BBQ sauce out of the fridge. She poured some on her plate, and voila! Problem solved. She gobbled up her food (gobble gobble--like a turkey, but of course I didn't tell her that lest the ranting and raving start up again) and was a brand new kid. Who knew?

Yet another turkey art project, the BBQ sauce, and my smiling girl. 

So in addition to all the wonderful blessings and privileges of my life, I am also thankful for BBQ sauce. I'll have to remember that the next time Aubrey doesn't like her dinner. 

The missionaries came over for pie, and a good time was had by all.

Thursday morning, Gavin played football in the church 'Turkey Bowl,' and I went to the gym for my favorite spin class. Afterwards, we packed up and took the kids to Great Wolf Lodge. We went to GWL in Williamsburg, VA at least four times when we lived in Maryland, and this was our third time to the one here. I think this time was my favorite. A lot of that has to do with Jace walking now, I'm sure. It's no fun hefting around a kid in a waterpark.

They've added a new ride since the last time we were there (July)--it's a family raft slide. Some friends of ours went too, so we traded off with the kids a bit and enjoyed the bigger waterslides. Aubrey completed all the quests in the MagiQuest game, and she and Lincoln were able to fight the dragon. Even little Jace had a good time toddling around and splashing in the water. He especially liked the hot tub outside--I loved seeing him grin when he felt the warm water. 

My cutie-patooty-bambooties all showered and jammied up, ready for the car ride home. I love these kids!!

I am grateful to be a part of creating memories for my children. I don't think any of us realize how truly blessed we are. As long as my kids are young and carefree, I want them to enjoy life--all the while realizing the magnitude of their blessings and developing a desire to also give to others. 

Happy Thanksgiving, folks. Tears (over turkey and not wanting to leave GWL), fears (over turkey and giant waterslides), and cheers (yup--over finally eating our turkey and having a great time at GWL) for us this holiday--I hope yours was memorable as well.

Hannah Montana the Turkey

Several of my friends have craftsy blogs in addition to their regular family blogs. The craft blog is a show-and-tell of sorts for all things cute and clever. It's fun to read about my friends' talents and creations, and I imagine their fellow crafters love sharing ideas.

I, for obvious reasons, do not have a craftsy blog. That trait is apparently not genetic, or my mom would have surely passed it on. She has tried desperately over the years to teach me the arts of domesticity. It hasn't stuck, folks. 

So when Aubrey came home from school with a plain turkey body that we had to 'disguise,' I knew we were in for it. The attached note said something like, "I'm Tom Turkey and I'm as scared as can be. Dress me up as someone else so you won't eat me." And there was a perky little conclusion to parents, "Enjoy some family time with this fun project!!" Puh-lease!

The spaghetti hair was Aubrey's first idea, and these are her words:

Hannah Montana turkey you get the best of both worlds. Woo hoo. I love Hannah Montana, that's why my turkey is Hannah Montana. Some other turkeys were Army Man, Sleeping Beauty, Spongebob, Tinkerbell, Spy, there's one more, I'm thinking of, ummm, I wanna say there's a clown. Hold on, hold on. Clown.

Dinner is served

We had stuffed bell peppers recently for dinner. They were sure tasty to me, and I felt like such a good mom serving a vegetable as the main dish. After dinner, Lincoln make a comment about the lone remaining pepper. "Dat one yooks a yiddle bit yike a bum bum, mommy," he said.

I stood up to see the pepper from his vantage point, and . . . sure enough. It yooks a yiddle bit yike a bum bum. 

(I promise it tasted better than it looks.)

Veteran's Day

My grandpa's crew in WWII--he's second from the right on the back row

Today we honor military veterans. My military roots run deep.

I am an Army wife. I am also an Army brat (my dad was in the Army). So far--thankfully--neither my husband nor my dad have experienced war. I have several friends whose husbands have been in Iraq, and a brother-in-law who has been to Afghanistan. I honor you, and I thank you for your service.

The military legacy in my family goes beyond my life now--as a military spouse, and my life then--growing up in the Army. Two generations ago, my grandfathers fought in World War II. 

My Grandpa Jacobsen was on the beach at Normandy on D-day. If you saw Saving Private Ryan, you have some idea of what that was like. Absolutely horrid and gut-wrenching, but also a pivotal turning point in WWII.

My Grandpa Weiland was a B-24 bombardier. As I understand it, he was the guy in the bottom of the plane aiming and releasing the bombs. Pretty courageous. After he passed away, my dad did a lot of research, in part contacting members of my grandpa's crew. He learned that his old man was absolutely fearless, and "one of the best g*$ da@n bombardiers" in the service. He also learned that many of the men Grandpa flew with did not make it home.

My grandfathers, though in peril at times, survived the war. Many veterans are not so lucky. A childhood friend of mine is one who paid the ultimate sacrifice. 

Billy and his family before he left for Iraq

'Billy' (that's what I called him as a kid) was a company commander in Iraq. He was dining in the mess hall in Mosul when a suicide bomber detonated himself in December 2004. Billy left behind his loving wife and four small children. He was killed on his ninth wedding anniversary by someone whose freedom he was trying to ensure. 

We were living in Maryland when I learned of Billy's death. I was devastated. Billy's dad was my family's home teacher growing up, and I had an on again/off again crush on my cute friend. I remember racing him after middle school for the last seat on the bus, then cracking up at his dry sense of humor all the way home. I remember him explaining to me for two whole hours the differences between Alien and Aliens (the movies). I had no idea what he was talking about. I was just thrilled to have his undivided attention. So many fun memories, and such a tragic loss.

When we moved to Maryland, I made a goal to run the Marine Corps Marathon in Washington, D.C. Our last Fall there was 2005, and it was my final chance to make good on my goal. I was already registered when I learned that Billy's wife, brother, and sister were running to honor him. I decided to join them. I printed a picture off the internet, safety-pinned it to my back, and ran 26.2 miles remembering my friend.

That run was one of the best experiences of my life. There was so much support and love and honor for those who served, and many asked about Billy as I ran. When I thought it was tough or I became fatigued, I only had to remember him. 

The Marine's motto is 'Semper Fidelis.' As I ran, many shouted a shortened version, 'Semper Fi.'  Italian is close enough to Latin, so I knew the motto meant 'Always Faithful.' 

Those who serve in the military--whether 'caring for those in harm's way' like my husband, training other soldiers like my dad, fighting in war like my grandfathers, or paying the ultimate sacrifice like my friend--are just that, always faithful.

I thank you, I honor you, and I will not forget the price you have paid for the freedoms I enjoy. Happy Veteran's Day!

(You can read more about Billy here.)

Marriage survey

My friend Cathi is so stinkin' cute. We graduated from high school together, but didn't know one another--what a shame because we would have been great friends. A few years later, we were in the same study abroad group at the BYU Jerusalem Center. 

We became fast friends in Israel, and have stayed in touch ever since (15 years ago!). She is an amazing woman. She is the mother of 7 (yes!! SEVEN!! And she graduated WITH ME!!), and competes regularly in triathlons and marathons. Iron woman, she is.

Anyway, she has compiled a marriage survey for a lesson she is teaching. It's anonymous, with three simple questions. You can find it here. If you have a second, I'm sure she'd love the input.

Child labor

My poor mom. I was such a bratty child. I had all kinds of ideas and advice on how my mom could do her job better (never mind that she was already phenomenal). She can laugh about it now, but I'm sure it wasn't always so funny. My most infamous suggestion was to lock my brothers out of the house, make them pee in the bushes, and in so doing keep the bathrooms clean. Genius, right?

Now I have my own little consultant, so I know something of what I put my mother through. Her latest idea is to install a pole straight through the ceiling up to her bedroom, so she can zip right on down--fireman style--and not be running so late in the mornings. She saw it on a commercial, and she makes sure I see said commercial every time it's on TV. "Mommy! Mommy! See! See! Here it is . . . watch. Keep watching, keep watching. See!! Wouldn't that be great, mommy?"

There is, however, one thing I spouted off about that I have implemented. Child labor. I remember clearly telling my mom that as soon as my kids could walk, they'd be pushing vacuums. Oh, yeah. Why should mom have to do all the work? 

So here's little lovey #3 helping with dishes, or at least he thinks he is. He's actually doing more harm than good, and he didn't last balanced on the dishwasher door much longer than it took to snap the picture. 

At least I can pretend that my kids do their chores! Their day for pushing vacuums will come much sooner than they realize, with or without the fireman pole.

Candy check

Does anyone remember the 'razor in the apple' scare? What kind of an idiot passes out apples on Halloween--do you know how expensive that would be?! 

What about kids taking their Halloween candy to be X-rayed? Did people really do that? In all of Gav's years as an X-ray tech, he never scanned even one tiny snickers bar. But I know I saw it on the news when I was a kid, so it must have happened.

This year I did my own pseudo-candy check. It's really just my chance to pick out my faves. In doing so, look what else I found--

What, may I ask, are these little wonders? They look like cat food. I think it's some type of foreign treat. A honey-rice jobby from another country? Nobody tried them, no thanks.

And Easter eggs? Really?!? Why not throw in the chocolate bunny while you're at it?! Or last year's chocolate Christmas bells?

What little surprises did you find in your kids' treat bags?