Christmas Eve

We spent Christmas Eve at Nate's parents' house. Pat is the favorite amongst the grandchildren - they're all borderline obsessed with "Papa." Here he is with Paige and Reagan. Reagan immediately decided she loved Paige and started in on the besitos (kisses in Spanish). If Reagan really likes you, you're likely to randomly be attacked and slimed with numerous besitos. Paige's head was nice and slobbery by the time Reagan finished with her (I'm sure Jill appreciated that).After a fabulous dinner, we retired to the living room for a great evening planned by Aunt Jill. First up was Grandpa reading from Luke about the birth of the Savior while Jill had a book of illustrations to go along with the story. Then each child received a present to open -- pajamas, of course. London, Dallin, Ryan, Luke and Savannah.

London LOVED those pajamas when we went to the store. We saw girl Wall-e jammies, but she insisted that she preferred the boy ones. Grandma Norma ended up getting her the girl ones also and she adores both and is so excited that she can wear one pair when the other is dirty.

Then Nate was assigned to read them "The Night Before Christmas."
After that, we gave Pat and Norma a dvd that Marc made with tons of pictures of all the grandkids -- from here and Denver and Paris. It was fun to sit and see how much the cousins we don't see much have grown and changed. Marc really did a fabulous job on the dvd.

Reagan and Grandma.

Doesn't she look delicious?
I could just eat her up!

Pat and Paige (in her new jammies)

The whole evening the children would run back into Papa's study to check the internet. Papa found a website that tracked Santa (you could even zoom in and it google-earthed where he was down to the neighborhood). Pretty darn neat. Soon we couldn't keep them any longer and they were all begging to go home and get to bed, fearful of missing Santa. So we headed home and there were no problems getting to bed . . . no extra drinks, no getting up to blow a nose, no extra "things" to tell me, etc. No problems, not a peep.

Now that's what I call "Magic."

Jones Christmas Party

I never posted this and yet I wrote it like two or three weeks ago.

Sunday night the girls and I attended the Jones Christmas party while Nate stayed home sick (as well as Monday,but was back to work yesterday). Above are Corey and Reagan -- Corey took over father duties for the absentee Nate. I kept waiting for Reagan to complain, but she really liked him (and his antlers he won). The girls loved the craft table set up for the kids and it wouldn't be a Jones party without the Suns on or a football game (for Grandpa).

When we were little, Grandpa would always call us "boys" despite the fact that Tyler was the only boy in the family. We just got used to it and now I have to tell my girls that story so they don't get so offended when he calls them boys. Anyway -- Grandpa and all his brothers are sports fanatics so I think it's rather funny that of all his boy grandchildren, only one has gotten a basketball scholarship to college . . . and it's a GIRL!!! Go Cassi! The other day I asked how he felt about that and he said he'd take it -- he's totally proud of her.

Sorry about the tangent - back to the party.

Scott, Chris and Corey. Okay, these boys will never be grown-up men in my mind because I will always have fond memories of growing up with them. So when I see them with families, I have to remind myself that it's been a long time and I'm old now too. These are three great men.

Reagan got Corey's antlers for her own and then headed to Grandma Cyndee.

Shout out to Aunt JoDee

I can't wait to see you!

Anyone who knows JoDee, knows this is a "JoDee" outfit (red, stars, etc.) -- I am in love with it and knew that only my older sister would appreciate how stinkin' cute Reagan looks in it.

Somebody's sick. . .

Reagan got it from dad or London (who's been coughing a little). It so sad (and yet cute) that you can just see it in their eyes. But . . . that didn't stop her from having some fun with Savannah yesterday while I was on the phone with Megan. It was the funniest thing to see her just chillin' in on the chair and being pushed around. On any normal day, she would have been laughing hysterically, but I just don't think she felt up to it.

Megan - these pics are for you!

family pictures

Like everyone else on earth, I hate getting family pictures. Nate has been talking about getting them for months now, but I finally gave in after I saw these cute polka-dot shirts for the girls. Personally, I 'd rather just get pictures of them, because they're much cuter, but I suppose the whole family must be photographed for posterity sake . . . right?

Below is the best family one except that Savy is looking down -- that dang girl was either looking away, down, or smiling weird in EVERY picture. Amy's going to see if she can't do some Photoshop magic to fix this picture and have Savs looking up and pretty.

Shepherd

This morning Amy and I had a brunch with the ladies we visit teach and our partners. It was nice to get together and talk (and eat tasty food). I read this story a few weeks ago and so we gave them a copy along with a Christmas mix cd Amy burned. I love that the more you study New Testament times, you can learn and find so much more meaning to the parables and phrasing that the Savior used while teaching. I think a lot of that is lost on people today and that's part of the reason why I loved this story and learning about the true bond between shepherds and their sheep, which reminded me that I personally am known to my Savior and can turn to Him for help because he knows me as intimately as a sheperd knows one of his own precious sheep.

true story by John R. Lassiter:

“Some years ago, it was my privilege to visit the country of Morocco as part of an official United States government delegation. As part of that visit, we were invited to travel some distance into the desert to visit some ruins. Five large black limousines moved across the beautiful Moroccan countryside at considerable speed. I was riding in the third limousine, which had lagged some distance behind the second. As we topped the brow of a hill, we noticed that the limousine in front of us had pulled off to the side of the road. As we drew nearer, I sensed that an accident had occurred and suggested to my driver that we stop. The scene before us has remained with me for these many years.

“An old shepherd, in the long, flowing robes of the Savior’s day, was standing near the limousine in conversation with the driver. Nearby, I noted a small flock of sheep numbering not more than fifteen or twenty. An accident had occurred. The king’s vehicle had struck and injured one of the sheep belonging to the old shepherd. The driver of the vehicle was explaining to him the law of the land. Because the king’s vehicle had injured one of the sheep belonging to the old shepherd, he was now entitled to one hundred times its value at maturity. However, under the same law, the injured sheep must be slain and the meat divided among the people. My interpreter hastily added, ‘But the old shepherd will not accept the money. They never do.’

“Startled, I asked him why. And he added, ‘Because of the love he has for each of his sheep.’ It was then that I noticed the old shepherd reach down, lift the injured lamb in his arms, and place it in a large pouch on the front of his robe. He kept stroking its head, repeating the same word over and over again. When I asked the meaning of the word, I was informed, ‘Oh, he is calling it by name. All of his sheep have a name, for he is their shepherd, and the good shepherds know each one of their sheep by name.’

“It was as my driver predicted. The money was refused, and the old shepherd with his small flock of sheep, with the injured one tucked safely in the pouch on his robe, disappeared into the beautiful deserts of Morocco .

“As we continued our journey toward the ruins, my interpreter shared with me more of the traditions and practices of the shepherds of that land. Each evening at sundown, for example, the shepherds bring their small flocks of sheep to a common enclosure where they are secured against the wolves that roam the deserts of Morocco . A single shepherd then is employed to guard the gate until morning. Then the shepherds come to the enclosure one by one, enter therein, and call forth their sheep—by name. The sheep will not hearken unto the voice of a stranger but will leave the enclosure only in the care of their true shepherd, confident and secure because the shepherd knows their names and they know his voice.” (Ensign, May 1988, pg. 74)

This Christmas season I hope you and your families feel the Savior’s arms of safety, love and mercy richly in your lives as we celebrate His birth.

Grandma and Grandpa Jones

Here are the pictures of our visit to Grandma and Grandpa Jones' house on Tuesday. Our children have real ownership in that house - they walk in as if it's their own and they know exactly where the tea set dishes are as well as the coloring goods along with millions of mailing stickers that G&G don't know what else to do with. The kids love the stickers and every time we go home, I find those all over my house, with G&G's address.
Reagan and Grandpa getting "re-acquainted"

she decided she likes him

London by Grandma's vintage jewelry Christmas tree. She made it last year out of her mom and grandma's old jewelry.

Aidan kindly raked their yard for them - raked one part bare, but nobody minded. I love that cute, determined face focused on the job at hand. Classic Aidan right there.

Mini-Amy.
I mean, Savannah, taking photo shoots in the back yard.

I adore this picture of all the kids with Grandpa.

Lunch with G&G

We have such a good time whenever we visit them that we leave wondering why we don't get over there more often. That'll have to be a new year's goal because our kids really love it, as do we.