FORTY-EIGHT

"Steve Holt!" 

2015 week forty-eight

Cold and rainy Thanksgiving week full of baking and crafting and snuggling the screamer in the night.

Theo does not enjoy baths. I cannot imagine that our cold house has anything to do with that. But he really needs these baths. He is a far messier nurser than Vera was. However he can nurse in 15 minutes flat which is rather nice. V took a good 45 minutes to eat. She has yet to break that habit. 

Theodorable.

And another to make up for the dearth of Theo photos last week. 

"look at me Mama! I'm a ghost!"

She was really disappointed that she couldnt stay here all evening and watch the "scary dino-sweear movie" with us.

Happy Thanksgiving!

I call this face the creep pilgrim. 

And this one would have to be the sassy pilgrim.

Aaaaaand one more because i got no other Thanksgiving day photos because i was lying on the couch sick for the rest of the day. I didnt even  get to eat more than a few bites of dinner. It was so sad. 

We're copying my friend Becky and dishing out Christmas pjs early so we can enjoy them all Christmas season! This is Theo enjoying his pjs, clearly.

This sacrament meeting scene brought to you by my husband. 

Quotes:

V -Mama, I can have two peanut butter toasts for breakfast.
Me -No, you really aren't big enough yet to eat two peanut butter toasts for breakfast.
V -But my butt is big enough for two toasts.
Me -What?

At the grocery store, V -Wow there are so many MEAT things in here!
Me -Neat things.
V -No. MEAT things.

Me -Who loves you? Does Mama love you?
V -Yes!
Me -Does Papa love you?
V -Yes!
Me -Who else loves you?
V -Airports. And cats. And Theo.

Talking to her giraffe, V -What giraffe? Oh no! I'm sorry giraffe.
to me, V -"Mama! Mama! The giraffe is a wild animal. He needs a sweater mama because he's so cold and wild.

V got a ballon from a birthday party.
V -Can you tie this on me Mama so I can fly?

Stories:

Now that I have been able to actually enjoy the Thanksgiving foods that I missed out on during the actual holiday, it is absolutely Christmas time. I have already listened to my favorite Christmas album The Lower Lights "Sing Noel" a little a few weeks ago. But of course that pre-Thanksgiving guilt forced me to listen to something else. Then on Friday night when we got into the car Matt turned on the radio to the Christmas station and said, "I feel weirdly hypocritical listening to this music today when I was making fun of people for listening to it yesterday -as if somehow that one day really mattered." And I realized that I absolutely agree. Periodically through the year a Christmas song will pop into my head but I will shove it down into repression as fast as I can. My snarky little brain will say something about waiting until it is the "proper time" and call me silly for even thinking about a song about Christmas. Because clearly, there is no reason good enough to sing a song about Christ's birth in August. I can only sing about Jesus in December as is good and proper.

But isn't that silly? Why can't I think about the savior's birth in March, and then sing about it? Why should I feel uncomfortable singing Hark the Herald Angels Sing during any of the other eleven months of the year? And absolutely more importantly, why have I wasted so much of my time being condescending and uppity about people who don't "keep Christmas in it's proper place"? Yes, I think it's annoying when shops get all Christmas angsty in October, but that is a bit different. Strictly Christmas music musing over here currently. I've reached a free-love Christmas music plateau and have decided to shed my teenage arrogance judging people who want a few more days/weeks/months of Jesus is Born music. Sing on, folks. Hum those hymns and croon your carols. I am making a Christmas resolution. If I feel the urge to sing Silent Night to my kids at bedtime. I will just let it come. I can no longer think of a good reason to stifle these songs. Songs. Only songs. And songs about goodness and cheer and Christ, at that! I will suppress you no longer! And I'm sorry for all the eye-rolling, and scoffs, and judgement, and my holier-than-thou posture throughout the years. Please accept my apology and pledge to shed the silly scorn I have most definitely sired against you and your pre-Thanksgiving heralding.

Christmas Music Welcome.

Bonus: Cousin snuggles. The next morning she accidentally sat on him and was overcome with grief and despair. It's hard to be 5. Theo forgives you.