Here are my kids reliving one of my childhood memories: Standing under a full tree of lights on Temple Square and looking up. I remember always feeling like I was in space, surrounded by stars. I want them to grow up with the same magical memories--but I'm not sure they appreciate the little things like I did--or think I did anyway.

This year I really wanted to make things special. I opted out of buying the cheap...what's the name...you know, the calendars where you count down to Christmas by opening up a window with a little chocolate in it...uck--I hate my mind. Anyway, Instead, I bought a wooden sleigh that had little doors that I thought I would fill with all sorts of fun things we could DO.
The first week was awesome. We decorated the tree, read Christmas books, drove around and looked at Christmas lights whilst munching a yummy Christmas blizzard from Dairy Queen, walked around the Festival of Trees, drank hot chocolate by the fire and watched a Christmas movie, and made Christmas ornaments for the Grandparents (act surprised when you open them).
The second week wasn't quite so awesome. I found myself putting off the opening until bedtime and then sending them off on a quick errand like teeth brushing while I madly scribbled something lame like, "pick 3 favorite Christmas songs" and trying to cram it in the sleigh before they were back. I was wishing I had opted for the stale chocolate calendar.
Tonight we tried to spruce things up again. We headed up to Temple Square for an evening of lights. Remember how magical that was as a kid? I captured this cute picture right when we got there and 2 seconds later everyone was fighting and whining and complaining. I thought I could change the mood by forcing them to watch the nativity....not so much. Anyway, I think pictures lie. Most pictures make it look like everything is just..so...great, when really it is a one snapshot taken in the midst of HELL.
