Escape Artist

To the shoppers and employees of Famous Footwear,

I ran in today with my 23-month-old little man to buy a specific pair of shoes for his big sister on Christmas Eve.  I knew exactly where they were and what size I needed.  We headed directly to the cash register to make the purchase when she told us that all shoes were buy one get one half off.

Please don't blame me for feeling obligated to quickly find another pair of shoes to capitalize on the special offer.  Yes, I realize I had to spend more money to save.  I felt it would be irresponsible of me not to buy two pairs.

I just needed to try on two pairs of shoes.  Really . . . that's all I was doing . . . while Gage attempted to run out of the store at least 15 times.

I'm not a bad mom.  I just can't try on a pair of shoes while I'm restraining my little man.  I tried.  A few times.  I realized it wasn't possible.  There aren't carts in your store.  And, he realized that he could get to the door several different ways in a few seconds flat.

Thank goodness for double doors . . . and some knowledge, somewhere deep down, that told him that truly escaping the store into the snowy, busy, cold world was not in his best interest.  He hesitated every time at that final set of doors and giggled before he started to push the door open.

And, I was always running right behind him.  With one shoe on.  With two different shoes on.  Hopping on one foot.  His giggles gave him away.

And, to the woman that I ran into as I chased my man around the corner, I'm sorry again.  And, I do appreciate your telling me that you felt sorrier for me.  I think.

It's hard to keep my little man down.

Sincerely,
The Mom that chased her son to the front door 15 times while shopping for a Christmas present and a really good deal

Christmas in New York

I have always dreamed of Christmas in New York City.  I love New York.  Yearn for it sometimes. 

I've had the pleasure of experiencing the city twice.  Once to celebrate New Year's Eve at Times Square while I was at Radford.  A-mazing.  And, one other time a few years ago, when I was in town for a marketing summit.  In the few short days I was there, I went to see Wicked all by myself (giddy like a little girl on Christmas, calling Jeff from the lobby gushing about how excited I was to be there in that moment), visited Times Square, and shopped in some of the biggest stores downtown.  

What is it about this city that I find so incredibly enticing? 

Yes, I love my space, not paying for parking everywhere, having a car, quiet neighborhoods . . . but, I could be just as happy in a studio apartment on the 23rd floor . . . at least for a while.  I've said it before . . . I guess I'm a little bit country and a little bit city.  It's not that I don't know who I am . . . I think.  I just enjoy a lot of different things.

Jeff knows exactly who he is.  Jeff is all country.  And, I like Jeff.  Soooo . . . we will never be city people.  Living in Toronto was as close as we will get to big city life.

So, I will live my dream in other ways.  When the time is right, I'll find a way to spend some time in the Big Apple near Christmas.

For now, I'll go watch Miracle on 34th Street and try to get my fill of parades and crowds and skyscrapers.

Jeff wrinkles his nose at the thought of all of this . . . including any old movies.

But, that's the beauty of marriage.  You don't have to like every single thing together.  It's healthy to have your own dreams.

And, one of mine is New York City!!

Any takers?

We Even Missed Santa . . .

Sigh.  Breathe.  It's over.  The relaxation can begin.  I can start my Christmas celebration.

Honestly, I did warn them when they asked me to be in charge of the ward Christmas party.  Although for years I hoped and aspired to be a Martha Stewart-type hostess.  Alas, it is not my strength.  Yet, they didn't have much time left to continue the search for a more appropriate event planner.  So, I reluctantly agreed.  Oh my . . .

200 people.  Breakfast.  Singing.  Entertainment.  Decorations.  Santa.

We survived.  People ate.  There was enough food.  There was singing, piano-playing, guitar-playing, and more singing.  Someone read Thomas Monson's new book, The Christmas Train, to the children.  It was very sweet.

There was one wild little toddler running around and squealing - pretty much the whole event - and trying to crawl onto stage.  Where were that kid's parents???

It would be funnier if I had a picture of said toddler so you could see little Gage's mischievous face.  I was, of course, too busy chasing the little guy and walking in and out of the gym to soften his screams during a beautiful solo of O Holy Night (the tear-inducing kind of rendition) to snap a photo.

Autumn and a few of her friends all sang a rockin' Christmas song together.  She was beyond thrilled. She'd been going back and forth for weeks on what she would sing.  She tries so very hard to fit in with the girls in the neighborhood - who are all one grade and one year ahead of her.  That year makes a difference.

I didn't take a single picture of the gym all decorated and set up.  It's almost as if it never happened.

And . . . my kids missed Santa.  All of the children stood in line and waited for that one last opportunity to tell Santa what they were still hoping for on Christmas morning and snap a photo.  But, not my children.  Not one.  How did that happen?

I took one picture of my favorite detail - the snowflake garland - that spanned the whole room.  This picture doesn't do it justice.  It really was pretty with the overhead lights off and the Christmas tree lights on.

Throwing this party was a little like building a house.  You do your best to think ahead - but, there are so many things that you don't know until it's just too late.  And, then once it's done, it's much easier to recognize what you could have changed to improve it.  Yet . . . you won't have the chance for a do-over . . . which is actually okay by me.

I am not Martha Stewart.  Not even close.

Now . . . back to my normally scheduled Christmas spirit . . . sigh.

The Elf's Warning

There have been some little children around the house that have been what some might classify as a little 'naughty' lately.  And, with 6 days left until Christmas.  Gasp.

Apparently Christopher Elf's mere presence was not influence enough.  And, last night, he'd had enough.  He laid the smack down and presented an ultimatum.

Thanks, Christopher.  We couldn't have said it better ourselves!!

Precious Memories

For the longest time, whenever we said something to Gage, we would usually end it by saying, "okay?"  And, he would always say, "Kkkkk."

And, ever time I read Goodnight, Goodnight Construction Site, he would end every page by saying, "Niiiiiiight."

It was heart melting.  Ooey gooey puddles of sweetness.

And, then one day we noticed that he stopped saying, "Kkkkk" and "Niiiiiight."  Just like that.  Our little man had moved on from the phase he was in to the next phase.  And, he left a little behind of being a twenty month old . . . and came a few steps closer to being a 2-year-old.

And, those little moments become memories that might surface one day when we pick up the right book, smell the right smell, see the right pajamas.

But, I always fear that these sweet experiences might not make it to the shelf in my memory that holds the most precious treasures.

Like when Gavin called his beloved macaroni and cheese, mac aerial.  And, hamburgers, hangabers.

Garrett can't stop sticking his tongue out.  It hangs out of his mouth all the time, licking his lips and smiling.  He loves sleeping on his side and feeling a blanket right up against his face - just like his big brother.

Gage lays down in bed every night and pulls his silky blanket right over his face - wrapped up like a little cocoon.

Autumn must have ice in her water every night.  Often she doesn't even touch it.  But, it has to be there or she can't sleep.

Gavin, who left his bears behind more than a year ago, has reattached himself to one particular bear that he calls Buddy.  And, he can absolutely tell the difference between the bears he has . . .

Oh these babies . . . they hold my heart.

Gage and the Ranson Grands

Before our trip to Virginia, we began talking to Gage about meeting his grandparents.  We talked to him about the plane ride and meeting new cousins, Aunt Amy, Uncle Ken and Grandma and Grandpa.

One thing about Gage . . . I think he really listens and understands.  He will just look intently and absorb everything we say.

But, we also feared we might be creating some confusion between the grandparents.  He knows the Peterson Grands very well.  He may just be Grandpa Peterson's biggest fan.

So, Jeff suggested I show him a picture of my mom and dad to try to make a distinction.

If only I had a video of his first look at the picture of the Ranson Grands.

He stared in wide-eyed amazement.  Pure amazement.  His little mouth formed an "ohhh" and he shook his head a little in wonder and glee.  Seriously.  It was like he was seeing one of the Seven Wonders.

Of course . . . in my book . . . my parents are better than the Great Wall of China.  And, I'm glad Gage agrees.

More to come on our trip to Virginia.  It was awesome.

Peterson Thankful Turkey

Instilling a sense of gratitude in our kids is a top priority for Jeff and me.  You can always have more or less than you have.  The real joy in life is when you appreciate exactly what you do have.  And, I think this is sometimes difficult to teach to children . . . but, critical.

Autumn suggested we create a thankful 'turkey' this year instead of our traditional thankful tree.  He grew over time.  But, this was a picture of him on his birth day.

I am so incredibly grateful for the life I have.  My husband is amazing.  I'm not saying that in the blog-facing, 'painting the perfect picture' way.  I'm serious.  He's amazing.  I love him more today than ever before.  We have a beautiful marriage.  We know that love is both a verb and a feeling.  And, we work together.

The other night we were picking questions out of our dinner-time family questions cup.  And, when asked who his best friend was, Jeff told the kids, "Your Mom."  Oh man.  I wanted to jump across the table into his arms . . . Tom Cruise-jumping-on-Oprah's-couch kind of style.  I love that man (Jeff - not Tom Cruise).  Adore him.  I'm grateful for him.  I appreciate how hard he works, how he never seems to get tired, how strong he is and even keel . . . and how he makes me laugh.  And, of course, how amazing of a dad he is.

And, these little kids of mine . . .  I know that we had dreamed and planned for 3 or 4 kids when we were in our early stages of marriage.  But, over the last 5 years, I was sure that our family would be much smaller than we had originally contemplated.

I am so thankful that we were able to have all four of these little angels in our family.  Even when Autumn is poking me on the shoulder saying, "Mom, Mom, Mom" (while I'm talking to her, by the way), Gavin is ramming into the walls and his brother in his wheelchair and has Luke Bryan playing full blast on repeat in the background, Gage is climbing onto the island, turning the faucet around and letting the water fun wide open on the countertop, and Garrett is screaming in the floor for some attention of his own . . .  I stop sometimes and just admire this family that Jeff and I have created.  They hold my heart strings.

And, even though my expectation in life was not to be a career mom . . . I am so grateful for the job I have.  The job that has taken us to Canada, that has enabled me to develop and grow and be challenged as a manager, the job that helped make our dream home a reality, and the job that gives me flexibility to be a mom, too.

And, I'm so appreciative of the family we have that love and support us.

And, the friends that have become family.

We are grateful.