Too old?

I was upstairs vacuuming one of the kids bedrooms when Cate and Emma came racing up the stairs asking me if I had gotten the mail yet? Fortunately I hadn't, because it gave the two of them the perfect excuse to go outside and enjoy the first snowfall of the season. I laughed at the two of them pulling on random gloves, scarves, hats and coats to make the ominous half-block journey to the mailbox. Of course, they could have just told me that they wanted to go out and play in the snow, but they are too old for such frivolity these days.

I remember feeling too old for things. One year I became too old to go trick-or-treating. I was a freshman in high school, dressed up and hitting a nicer neighborhood near my house with a couple of pals. We mistakenly knocked on an unfamiliar door and a girl, a sophomore from our school, opened the door while a wild Halloween party (full of fellow upper class men) was being

displayed behind her. I felt like a baby. Embarrassed I tucked my tail between my legs and went home. At that moment I knew my trick-or-treating days were over. Too old.

I'm kinda sad my girls are feeling a bit too old for things these days. I guess it is the natural progression of life. They feel too old, which makes me look old, but I don't believe I'm old, so what's a girl, oops woman, to do? Play in the snow with no excuse? Perhaps.

Kids are funny

Tonight Spencer was jumping rope and was trying to impress me with jumping up to high numbers. It was all very shady because he was at number eighteen and I turned around and he had hit 100. And before I finish chuckling he has already made it to googleplex. Googleplex 1, googleplex 2....

Then Alice says to Cate, "Cate, I always look up to you. And if you do something bad, it teaches me to do bad. So, essentially, all I do wrong is your fault."

Band Hero

Since Christmas Day this is all I see, hear, feel and smell. I have yet to really touch it.

Spencer and Lauren are now quite proficient at singing/drumming "Love Story" by Taylor Swift.

Good times.

The stockings were hung...

by the chimney with care, in hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.

We wish you a very Merry Christmas and a happy and healthy New Year.

Merry Christmas from our family to yours

We dressed in our Sunday best to snap a photo to show everyone how much we have grown and changed.

I almost used this picture for our Christmas card, but was not so sure about placement. It looks like Wes is married to Emma and I'm Cate's older and much larger sister.

I think the "kid shot" turned out fabulously.

Cate's hair and makeup were done by yours truly.

Emma looks inebriated. Let me set the record straight. She was only high on candy and egg nog.

Alice was our best model.

No one is more frightened than me when looking at this picture. I share the same bed with this man (monster).

This dress really accentuated everything lovely about me.

Most definitely the creepiest picture in the bunch.

*photography courtesy of Meredith, the best sister on the planet*

*Clothing courtesy of Deseret Industries, my parents dress up chest and Christy Westover's dress up collection**

Circle of attire

Remember when you had your first child and you dressed them impeccably? Decked out head to toe in a Gymboree outfit with matching headband, socks and sweater. They would get a stain on their shirt and you'd madly scrub it until the article of clothing was in pristine condition. You would gaily peruse their closet on Sunday morning to choose an adorable dress that would accent their rosy cheeks and cherub lips.

Then child number two arrives on the scene and dressing the pair starts to take a turn for the worse. You do strive to master the matchy-matchy look, especially for holidays, but child number one has acquired a mind of her own and suddenly wants to have a say in what gay apparel she dons. Negotiating comes into the equation. Now you start to strive for outfits that are actually outfits and give up on accessories.

Third child makes a debut, and your standards drop even further. Clean clothes. That is the quest. Stain free becomes the standard and the idea of outfits goes out the window. Hand-me-downs become a juggling act. Does this fit? Is it too stained to get away with? Is a summer dress okay in the winter?

Fourth child gets thrown into the mix and you've hit rock bottom. Only requirement becomes clean underwear. Old scroungy soccer tee shirts become the norm. Jeans worn of 5+ days doesn't seem too bad. Matching socks are a thing of the past.

But then you start dressing nicer. You no longer have spit up on your lapel like a badge of honor to motherhood. You spend less time crawling up and down off the floor for diaper changes and carpet scrubbing, so you can wear things that may have to be ironed. You start to find your groove again.

Time ticks away and oldest child starts to actually care what she looks like. She dresses nicely.

You have hope for the others.

Thus completes the circle of attire.

Company Christmas Party

I've been putting off writing this entry for fear my words will not be able to do this event justice. Yet, I've decided to plow forward hoping that I can present a small sampling of possibly the most bizarre, yet heartwarming, company Christmas party I have ever attended.

Wes had heard rumors of obnoxious nepotism and strange antics that were traditional aspects of this company Christmas party from fellow employees. And as we discussed the possibility of them prior to the event, we thought they were perhaps a stretching of the truth by past party go-ers who liked to embellish or exaggerate. Seeing as this is the first time we would be in attendance for all the festivities, we tried to begin the day with an open mind as to not pre-judge those running the show.

The party was being held in Sunriver, a wonderful resort located in central Oregon. We were put up for two nights in the lodge and spent almost all of Saturday at the party. The first half was a lunch/bunco activity. Everyone was to dress up as their favorite sports heroes. We, of course, did not plan ahead, mostly because Wes failed to notify me of this important info until the day before, so we haphazardly tried to find a green sports jacket for Wes to wear and I would of course be Tiger's better half Elin. But, no green jacket could be had on such short notice, so we went in plain clothes.

Lunch was a nice buffet, and while eating we heard varies speeches from the owner and several other employees. At the end of the banquet hall were several tables lined up end to end filled with prizes that had been donated by vendors associated with the company. These prizes were to be handed out to the winners of the bunco tournament held after lunch. After a quick gift exchange (I received the ugliest Christmas decoration, but Wes got a nice griddle, so it was all good), we set up for serious bunco. I've played bunco once before, and if I recall correctly, I won the whole thing. Wes had never played. The tournament ensued, and I did respectably, and sadly, Wes stunk it up. Once we had finished we sat around for at least thirty minutes while the scores were being entered into a mass spreadsheet (number of buncos plus score determined placing). Eventually everything was "figured out" and we waited to hear where we had placed. Once our names were called we had exactly thirty seconds to choose a prize and sit down. The owner, I'll call him Bud, began announcing the winners and guess what? He said that he had won! So, of course you would expect him to defer to the next on the list and not pick a prize, but no, he announced he was going to take home the grand prize himself. Tacky. Then he announces his office manager had come in second (very suspect) and she takes the next largest prize. And, amazingly his entire family comes in third, fourth, fifth, sixth and seventh. Hmmm. His wife takes home a four hundred dollar cruiser bike. His son is trotting back to his seat with his arms full of a new Play Station 3 and Rock Band. Yes. So, by the time they get to me (25th or so, I get a gift card to Costco) and to Wes (second to last, he takes home a memory card for his phone) it is slim pickings.

So, after 3.5 hours of being at this lunch/tournament we finally get to go home for a break. I mention to Wes how tacky that ended up being, but I decided it really wasn't worth complaining too much about it because I did come home $50 richer and the lunch had been good.

Finally it is time to get all gussied up for a fancy dinner and awards banquet. Upon entering the ballroom we are assigned to a table near the front and I settle in for what I'm hoping will be a good show. Dinner is served and cleared. Awards begin. The owner Bud, had asked his 20-something son to put together a power point presentation that would go hand in hand with the awards. So, Bud starts to emcee and whenever he is ready to give a new award he points to his son who had a projector and screen all set up right next to the podium. It was the corniest power point show I'd ever seen. The music was very dramatic and you had to wait at least 20 second for the winners name to be shown on the screen and then sometimes the name would have the letters spinning or scrambled or reversed or floating like balloons, so you would have to strain and struggle to figure out what it read. Fun. Once it was all clear who the winner was the 20-something son would play a song that was supposed to be representative of the winners personality while the winner walked up to receive their award. One woman walked up with a very suggestive rap song booming through the room. Others were receiving awards with heavy metal songs ringing in our ears. Then another son of Bud comes up to present special awards to his department. He pulls a total Michael Scott (Dundies) and gives out "The Bermuda Triangle Award" for the person with the messiest desk. "The Hopeless and Hapless Award" to the person with the worst personality. And on it went.

Finally the awards are over and Bud tells us all he has a special famous person in attendance who is going to perform for us. He tells us how this is such an amazing treat because this person just happens to be friend with his daughter and he was able to pull some strings to get her to perform for us. Then he puts a picture up on the screen of his daughter and Taylor Swift. And I start to shake my head. I knew what was coming. Suddenly the lights dim and a long, blond haired young woman enters from a side door with a mic in hand. She starts to lip-synch "Should have said no" and it was probably the worst impersonation I have ever seen. It was all so awful I hung my head and began to laugh quietly. It was so awkward. So weird.

Thankfully the song ended and Bud tried to get us all to admit that we thought she was Taylor Swift. No one agreed. He laughed and told us she was a family friend who they thought looked a lot like Taylor. Yeah, a much fatter Taylor, if you ask me.

A group photo was called for (Conflict Resolution) and then drunken crazy dancing (Booze Cruise) wrapped the night up for us all.

I will never forget this night. I can only hope for a reprise next year.

**I forgot to mention why it was a heartwarming party despite all the other "stuff". All of the employees, managers and owner loved working for this company and genuinely cared for each other. Many thanks were given and support shown.