It's payback time!

Whatever could I mean? When I was little I would volunteer my mom for all sorts of school projects: sewing costumes for 25 hand puppets, creating an assortment of confections and baked goods for the school carnival's cake walk, a chaperone for a field trip to the local petting zoo... and the list, unfortunately, continues to a point where neither my mom nor I can recall them all. And did I mention the critical detail that all of these were offered with little more notice than the night before the event? And this is where revenge is a dish best served cold. Like 20 years cold. My generous daughter, Marin, offered to bring the class a sample of a recipe called "Thunder Cake" from the book above. All the while assuring her classmates of my culinary genious. Apparently, they all started chanting, "cake! cake! cake!" which you can imagine boosted my ego and provided a situation in which I certainly could not refuse.
Did you see the time on the clock in the picture? That's p.m. people. It better be worth it. This cake better knock their socks off! Who am I kidding? You know they'll take a swipe of the frosting and dump the rest.
But the truth is, I'm not complaining. I'm grateful my daughter thinks I can whip up anything her heart desires. The time will soon come when she realizes she suffers from delusions of grandeur, but for now I'm going to savor this moment.
The pictures below show just how sweet my girl is. About a month ago, she surprised me with this cookbook she'd been working on for weeks. She had hand written several recipes she'd found in library books at school. I'll be sure to add "Thunder Cake" to my favorites.









"Thunder Cake" by Patricia Polacco

Cream together one at a time:
1 cup shortening
1 3/4 cup sugar
1 tsp vanilla
3 eggs, separated
(blend yolks in, beat whites until they are stiff, then fold in)
1 cup cold water
1/3 cup pureed tomatoes

Sift together:
2 1/2 cups cake flour
1/2 cup dry cocoa
1 1/2 tsp baking soda
1 tsp salt

Mix dry mixture into creamy mixture. Bake in two greased and floured round pans at 350 degrees for 35-40 minutes. Frost with chocolate butter frosting. Top with strawberries. Enjoy! (I love how Marin writes "enjoy" after all her recipes!)

Finally...

Kimball Lloyd Hulse has arrived! Another Hulse baby? The world just became a better place (We Hulses are revered for humility). Congratulations to Cam and Kathy. You guys are great parents. And super Congrats to Sadie Pants for becoming a BIG SISTER! ...Lucky! Man, I love that girl!
And I want everyone who reads this blog (all two of you) to look at how amazing Kathy looks just after having a baby! Can you freakin' believe it? Thanks for setting the bar impossibly high for the rest of us. I think I'll have to photoshop my next post delivery photo op. Smokin'.

February 10 Girls

Happy Birthday to some of the coolest girls EVER!

My daughter, Santi girl, with her little porcelain face and sweet pink cheeks.


My mom, Yolanda, who by this photo you can see quite obviously IS fast fashion. I love it. She's always been a great mother and a dear friend.


My great grandmother Maria. A very regal woman who tolerated two rambunctious mouseketeers snooping around and raiding her pantry. She made the best tortillas and I haven't tasted anything like them since.

As you can see, Santi is a lucky gal to be born on such a blessed day. And my mom can never claim that I never gave her anything for her birthday. That's the gift that keeps on giving. If it does in fact skip a generation, perhaps one of Santi's grandchildren will be born on Feb 10. I hope I'm around to find out.

Six Shooter

Six years ago:

Our family was not complete.

I'd yet to see your face and adore your little fingers and toes but my heart swelled at the mere idea of you. I wondered if it really was possible to love another child as much as the first.

Mommy was taking a midterm when you decided that it was time to be born. No one could have predicted your grand entrance at 9 pounds 5 ounces. (Well I think the doctor should have, but who's complaining?)

On February 10, 2002:

Our family became more complete.

I finally met the little girl who I'm sure was part of my life long before. So much fervor and zeal in one little body and simultaneously, endless tranquility in those soft blue eyes. And there is always more love in a mother's heart than she can ever imagine.

I am a stronger woman, more empowered, more faithful, more submissive to the Lord, and more certain of who I can become because you were born to me.

Plus you completely crack me up! And keep me on my toes. I love you Santi girl. Happy Birthday!!

Stair Master

Our little guy has mad skills. And he thinks this recent accomplishment should be lauded with praise. Every three or four steps, he stops, turns around and raises his eyebrows like, "Are you getting this? Is this working for you? Because I'm personally unsatisfied with your reaction." And he'll wait for the validation and then he will proceed with his hike.
Sure, we're proud that he can scale each step to the top. Are we happy about it? And, see this is what we could call a gray area. You might already imagine that this is an activity which requires critical adult supervision. Well it seems critical when you're confined there, scooting up every few steps at a time, laying back, but not too far, while you have a million other things to do. And because this has become his activity of choice, he will brave whatever obstacle that blocks his path to the ultimate rush.
What's that? Safety gates? Yes, well, we're on round two of that approach. Even though Brian was quite explicit in his instructions to our other children that safety gates are for safety and not for swinging out over stairs, the explanation was lost in translation (translating is hard). And I'm not going to divulge which child was the culprit but I'll give you a hint: it starts with Santi and ends with Hulse.
So although Abram is very adorable, for his parents, his recent skills are more madening than mad.

From the second photo you can tell that he is not only the stair master, but he is also the thigh master.

P.S. Please pay as little attention as possible to our nasty carpet. Unless you're going to email Brian convincing him to change it. I just want you to know, that I already know it's awful.

Sweet Santi

Let me first start out by saying that Wednesdays are not my best days. Bri leaves early for some special meetings at work or whatever and then doesn't come home until late into the evening because of Bishopy stuff. So usually I crockpot but I didn't even have it that together today. I grabbed the kids greasy cheeseburgers for din tonight. Sad. I know. Being Santi's turn to pray she says all the regular things about being thankful for the day and the chance to be together, etc... and then, "We're thankful that Mom let's us have fast food." My heart sank a little. And then, "Please bless Mom to get enough, enough, enough sleep tonight and tomorrow." It sank a little deeper. And the clincher? After Santi's prayer, Marin says: "Did you guys know that no two french fries are alike?" What? doesn't she mean snowflakes? Nope, she really meant french fries.
Because I have to monitor my kids' diets for more than just fast food fat content, I am quite confident we don't eat too much fast food. In fact, hardly ever, but it took me for a second, like, "Am I a highly-processed-food-serving sleep-in mom?" But even if I was, my daughter is so sweet to be thankful for me, whatever I am. She is so gracious and so forgiving. The redeeming part of her prayer? "I'm thankful for Mom who does everything for me and makes everything easy." That's the stuff I need to remember, for those moments when everything isn't easy and ALL I want to be is a highly-processed-food-serving sleep-in mom.

Fergilicious Bday!

...one year older and wiser too,
Happy Birthday to You!
Have a good one Jen! We hope that you have a great day and that when you blow out your candles you'll wish that we visit you and get a fergilicious tour of Chicago.
I can dream can't I?

High as a Kite

This weekend we went up to the kids' school to finally fly Bri's new practice kite. It was crazy windy and the kite just took off. It drew so much power it lifted Bri off the ground a few times which I thought was insane for a little trainer kite. The kids thought it was awesome. Marin and Santi both got a turn. It's not for the faint of heart. I tried it and was totally humbled by the kite's energy, which is to say that I told Bri not to let go fearing the kite would drag me across the field or worse. I'm a scaredy cat. So what.
We had tons of fun. As we're packing up everyone's gear: bikes, scooters, walkers, kite, etc... Bri coyly said that this trainer kite is big enough to land board. Um, what? So that's his hint that now he wants a landboard. Maybe. It is good recreation for the whole fam. I'm happy that he's getting a chance to practice before he takes a real kite out to the gulf. And when he can't get down to the island to kiteboard, he could use a landboard over at the Telemundo Soccer Fields. Yes, Telemundo.

Marin on her tippy toes and Bri making sure she doesn't take off.

Santi made it clear she prefers activities where her feet stay on the ground. Sort of.
Below is a clip of Bri with his new kite. I'm so supportive.

And speaking of High as a Kite....
The backstory is: We had a yard sale Saturday, of which I have no pictures and I wish I did because we were crazy mobbed by yard sale junkies. Actually, people have businesses out here called Ropa Usadas (Used Clothes), and if you served a South American mission, you might also be familiar with Ropa Americana where they sell or auction clothes by bales or drums. So people serge upon yard sales here and then sell them to or from a Ropa Usada. It's a huge enterprise. And all of this isn't very relevant except that we had a yard sale early on Saturday.
The real story is: Bri and I were in the garage late friday night sorting through our junk, getting ready for the yard sale when Bri said, "Do you smell that? Can you smell that?" As I'm walking outside, he says, "It kinda reminds me of my high school, or..." and before he said "rock concert" I said, "It's WEED!" I was like, "do you think one of our neighbors is having a party?" which is a stupid question because of course one of them is at any given time, at any time of the day (but that again is another story) But it was really breezy and the smell was so potent that we both looked at each other and knew that someone's field somewhere was on fire. And we were dying that we better hurry up or else we would both get contact highs or that all of the yard sale clothes would smell like culican. I guess that's just part of border life, or atleast, South Tejas border life. The borders truly are so porous and I can't even tell you how corrupt law enforcement is. So it says a lot about the people who really are trying to do their jobs. There's a sign at the border check that lists all different kinds of drugs seized presently for the year. The m.j. confiscated last year was several tons. Bri was like, "Several tons? Weed is so light, do you know how much they would've had to confiscate to weigh even just a ton?" So if any of you come to visit us and it smells like Dana Hills High School or Lollapalooza, you'll know why. And come to think of it, Brian did play a little Jane's Addiction the next morning... hilarious.

Sick Day

Poor Marin woke this morning with a mild case of hives. So sad, but it's been so much worse before. She stayed home with Abram and me while Santi went to school alone. Over a late pancake breakfast (I guess I didn't make it too miserable an experience to discourage skipping school), Marin recited two of her favorite jokes at the moment:

"What's the difference between a piano and a fish?
You can tune a piano, but you can't tuna fish. Get it? Get it?"

"A person who is trilingual can speak 3 languages.
Someone who speaks 2 languages is bilingual.
And if you only speak one language, you're American."

I cracked up at the last one especially!
"What?" I said, "Where did you hear that?"
She said, "From you guys." For the life of me, I can't remember ever telling Brian that joke or vice versa. I would want credit for sure. I wondered if she knew what she was saying or just repeating something she had heard.

"What do you think that joke is saying about Americans?"
"Oh, you know, kinda how Americans don't really care about the rest of the world around them."

Has this kid been growing up under the dark shadow of the current administration or what? I guess Bri and I have to watch what we say. EVERYTHING we say.

And this is what happens when you do stay home from school. Your little brother pulls your hair and there is seemingly nothing you can do about it but grab your scalp and squeal. She'll probably go back tomorrow.

Dr. Jekyll, Mr. Hyde (Hulse)

Look at this adorable little boy! Sitting at the table, having a good time packing his food in his hair, ears, and nose, and a little in his mouth... and then bam! the metamorphosis.

I know the picture below is blurry, but it's the only evidence I have that this is a most unnatural phenomenon. But he's still a little cute, even as Mr. Hyde. And that's all from his Dad's side, by the way.

I Love this Picture

I should've saved the title of my last post for this one. This was no ordinary love (still is). Well, I'm sure that millions of people far more brilliant can offer a more eloquent farewell. So, I'm not doing that. I just hope Brian and I have a snapshot like this one taken of us where it's evident that through all the challenges of life our love shines out the clearer. That I'll always have the chance to sit beside my best friend and that the wait from this life to the next won't be too long apart. What a sweet reunion that must be. And that's the way I have to think of it because I already miss our dear Gordon B. Hinckley.

No Ordinary Love

I know this may seem weird that I'm putting up a picture of my closet. But there in the center of the picture are Sunday outfits for Brian and me. Marin put them aside and ready for us to jump into before church (note that today is friday. be prepared, i guess.). So you've probably deduced that: #1 our daughter is very sweet and tries to help the family in very creative ways. (I'm guessing the brown sweatshirt paired with my Sunday dress is a result of the cold front we've had); #2 it appears to an eight-year-old that Brian and I need help getting it together on Sundays. We're still working on it. I HAVE to boast that I haven't been late to church once since Brian has been the bishop. It's a big deal for me. (Now, I have changed Abram from his jammies into his church clothes during the opening hymn and announcements, but hey, we're there.); #3 you should notice that I have no wardrobe and if you are my friend you should call Tim Gunn's Guide to Style, What not to Wear, or any extreme makeover show on my behalf (except Carson Kressley's How to Look Good Naked. I won't do it. You'll thank me.); #4 this is proof that Brian Hulse does in fact own a cowboy hat. That's something he'll have to explain.

The point is, I love my little girl. As she's growing older, I'm falling in love with her as my daughter and also as my friend. She isn't perfect, no one is, but just knowing her makes me want to become a little more perfect. And those are the people you want around you, the ones that help refine you, change your life, and make you a better person. "What else but Love?"

Birthday Girl!

Happy Birthday Miss Jessie! A day late, but happy anyway. We so totally miss you and it's just not fair that we don't get to see you.

Look at this adorable little girl! Back then, could you have ever imagined that you would marry into such a crazy family? Poor thing.

I hope you have a great birthday and that my brother does something sweet.

GO Bananas!

One of our New Year's resolutions is to redo our backyard. Even though we liked having banana trees (Santi liked them the most), they went rogue and were overgrown. They also attracted wasps and hornets during the summer. I just couldn't relax with all those stingers around and didn't feel comfortable letting the girls out to swim without me. So, they had to go.


Our neighbor's dad came over to help. So I was talking to him and thanking him for coming over to help me and as he was nodding his head, not really listening to me, he whipped out this yard-long machete and started wacking down the bananas. My eyes must have nearly popped out of my head and I must have taken like 3 steps back because my neighbor Paco started laughing. I just thought a tool/weapon of that size would merit some sort of warning to innocent bystanders nearby. Guess not. His dad had the bananas down in like 10 minutes but the roots took like another 4 hours. Crazy.

We also got rid of the palapa. I was actually sad to see it go. It was pretty fun, but every summer we've been here, it's been infested with spiders and stinging insects. So sad. There goes all of our shade. So now we have to haul cheeks to get some palm trees up and growing before summer when we're out there everyday. Here I have these white little kids and no shade from the sun. Hopefully we can get it together soon. At the very least, we can say we started one of our New Year's resolutions.

Best Christmas Gift EVER!

You're probably looking at this picture like, "huh?" Allow me to explain. Brian and I have been married almost ten years and remember very well our early years when we were so poor we couldn't afford to buy each other anything for pretty much any occasion (That actually wasn't too many years ago). So instead we played a game with each other called "If I had money, I would buy you..." I LOVE this game and we still play it. I am really touched by the things he comes up with to buy me. It really is the thought that counts. And it's so fun to show your spouse how creative you can be with all the things you know they like. But this is the first year that either of us actually gave a tangible version of "If I had money..." I reached into my stocking and was surprised to find something I hadn't put in there myself (Moms often do this so no one feels weird that no one put anything in Mom's stocking. Although this year I found lots of little treasures from the kids as well. Loved it!). So I unwraped this small box full of little folded papers. I began to open each paper and it became immediately apparent what Brian gave me for Christmas! I'm so happy! I love it!

So, in order from left to right, the things my husband would buy me "if he had money:"

#1 The Office on DVD - self explanatory.

#2 A Chipwich - when Bri couldn't find a job just after graduation, he would interview and job hunt all day (and work part time at Franklin Covey) and then at night we would use our Disney passes (Grandma Nay's Christmas present that year). Like 3 nights a week, we were at Disney. Hilarious that the only place we could afford to go was Disney because we had free passes (including parking). We packed lunches and could never buy a $2 churro or a $4 chipwich. Bri and I were sitting on the curb waiting for a parade to start and I told him, "One day I want to come here and finally be able to buy a chipwich." I still haven't gotten one. Sad.

#3 Diamond Anniversary Band - the big ten is this year and I'm pleased with the ring Brian would buy for me. I even told him throughout the day, "I really love my ring." And the funny thing is, you can make it as big as you want with no price increase.

#4 A massage - again, self explanatory. I need one. Everday!

#5 Bombay House in Provo - believe it or not, but it's the best Indian food I've had. Specifically their Chicken Tikka Masala and Coconut Chicken Korma. No, there is no good Indian food here at our one Indian restaurant.

#6 Air Supply concert tickets - I HAVE to explain. Bri and I play another game we think is fun. We're in pur bed and one of us starts singing some cheesey 80s song to see if the other one knows it and then we both start singing it with all the furvor and drama of the original rendition. It is usually some glam rock ballad. Sadly, we knew WAY too much Air Supply. I think it's because my parents had the cassette tape. A little embarrassing.

#7 A new Expedition - thoughtful, yes, but I'm not willing to give up ours yet. I never thought I would love an SUV, it's just a car. But it fits everyone and their friends and all the gear and groceries, etc... in our lives. LOVE it.

#8 Room Service - a luxury not usually available in the hotels we stay in. But when we do, ahhh, it's a mom's dream.

#9 An Easy-Bake Oven - I had one as a kid. Good times. Ouch!

#10 Adobe Photoshop - a fun hobby.

#11 Mountain Bike - I really do need one. Or at least I need more exercise.

#12 A big bag of money - why not? Who couldn't use a big bag of money? Who would say, "A big bag of money? No thanks, I'm stuffed. I'd rather not."

#13 Bon Jovi album - Refer back to #6. Also, when we were first married we took one of many road trips to cali. We stopped to get gas at some obscure gas station at an even more obscure small southern Utah town. While Bri pumped gas, I picked up the Bon Jovi "Slippery When Wet" cassette for like 2 bucks. We got back in the car and I told him I bought him a present. We cracked up when it started playing. Where is that tape?

#14 American Airlines - because I harass my poor husband that I hate flying ghetto jet (aka Southwest) and vow to never fly it again. I hate lining up like cattle in boarding pass lines. yuck!

#15 Rubio's - because I miss splitting grilled chicken nachos with Brian or Marin, whoever is willing to go with me. When we lived in La Jolla, there was one right down the street (for better or worse). We're used to Baja Fresh Mexican cuisine, not...whatever this is they have here. But that's another story for another post.

#16 Froze Toes - another one of Brian's retro favorites. He orders it anytime we see an ice cream man. Not because it's good, probably for the gumball in the big pink toe.

And that's my Best Christmas Gift. It probably seems geeky. We are geeks. What can I say? I love you Brian Hulse! Thanks for making it fun.

Christmas Pictures...finally!

Sorry (especially to the grandparents) for taking sooooo long to post pictures. We had a great Christmas and loved every minute we were able to spend as a family. It seemed all too quickly Brian was back at the grind stone between work and church. Most church activities were on hiatus for a couple weeks while people were traveling and such so that was a nice break. This year was smooth, probably because the girls didn't ask for anything (even after we asked many times). So they seemed very pleased with what they did get and we couldn't have asked for a more stress-free shopping experience. Actually, Marin did ask for office supplies to open a free school/daycare for children of single moms. She has the sweetest intentions in the world. I'm not really sure where she got this latest idea. But of course we bought her some supplies. We might have to make a compromise and just have a craft class for preschoolers we know. I don't think her poor dad can finance some of these lofty goals she has. Maybe we should have bought her a book on how to fundraise instead.

Anyway, back to Christmas. The kids of course loved all of the thoughtful things they received from their grandparents. I can't even list all the wonderful gifts but I think some of their favorites were the lovely tea sets from Lito and Lita and the trampoline from Big Finn. Just as long as they don't put those two together. Purple presents from Nana were, of course, on the top of the list. Grandpa Anson sent all sorts of little things the girls enjoyed. And Abram loved all the boy things that are new to our house. Cars, trucks, balls...and everything at some point or other becomes a tool which he uses to pound other things. So, this is how boys play. OK. But the highlight for him was wrapping paper and what he could do with it. His favorite was of course a corner of some long piece of paper clenched in his jaw while scurrying away on all fours, the wrapping paper trailing behind him. When he first started unwrapping he gave us a look like, "Are you OK with this? 'Cause all month you've been grabbing this stuff out of my hands." I love my kids' first Christmases.

And can I just take a moment to say that I love South Texas winters. LOVE. I know this place is quirky to say the least, in fact, down right scary sometimes, but the winter weather is hard to beat. It even rivals San Diego. (gasp! Did I actually admit that?) But the fact that we could hang outside all day with the kids was excellent. I will miss these winters.

Tejano Christmas

Wikipedia says: "The huapango is the name of a Mexican musical style and the accompanying lively dance of Spanish origin that is especially popular in the lands along the Gulf of Mexico." Well, that's us! Click on the video to see a clip we took at Brian's work party. You'll notice that the dance is really only authentic with either a Corona or Jose Cuervo in your hand. It's actually pretty cool to see some of these vaquero's dance with their boots, tight jeans, and cowboy hats. You guys really missed out. Sorry. But seriously, I'm experiencing first hand a part of border culture I only read about in literature courses at BYU (shout out to Gloria Cronin, PhD).

Moving on... Our tiny chapel is located in a tiny town called Hidalgo (I need to post more about our ward/building later). Apparently there is some huge Tejano singer from Hidalgo (it's their claim to Latino fame). Every year this singer and Hidalgo put on a huge Christmas lights display and our chapel is right next to City Hall. So our ward set up a live Nativity scene and Creche exhibit. The missionaries got like a hundred referrals from the three nights we participated. One of nights the Wheelers played Joseph and Mary. Apparently people were so overwhelmed by the scene that one woman took the fake baby out of Shanna's hands and placed her child on Shanna's lap and took a picture. Others present saw this and misunderstood that the live Nativity would be posing for pictures. Kinda like Santa. So they gathered around and posed with a bewildered Shanna and Brandon, et. al, until Sister Hamilton intervened and explained to visitors the reverence of the moment. Unfortunately I do not have pictures of our Nativity (apologies), but the following pictures pretty much wrap up our Tejano Christmas experience. Feliz Navidad!

There are like a million spanish radio and television stations down here. Of course.


Mike Fincke is an Astronaut who is from this area. So I guess that's another claim to fame. So we totally support the "Viva Mike" campaign.

So that about sums it up. And yes, that is the Pope on the left (on the shrine) and no, it is not the current Pope, and no, I do not know why it isn't the current Pope. Bri would like me to clarify that the picture above is not part of our live Nativity. In case you were wondering. And neither is the one above that. For the record. Or any of these. Including the huapango. Si, pero Viva Mike!

White Elephants!

For Christmas Eve we attended the Wheeler's White Elephant Party. Actually, we went for Shanna's Eggplant Parmesean (it's called something really fancy in Italian but I don't remember it). Both Shanna and Brandon served their missions in Roma (Italy, not Texas). So needless to say, Shanna's Italian Dinner totally rocked. Brandon says she only makes it once a year so we felt very honored to be invited. Also in attendance: The Wheelers (of course), Wolfleys, Chandlers, Brandon's Dad, and the Wheeler's friend Tammi. The Sister Missionaries bailed early, so we won't count them. All very fun people to be with. So our spoils for the evening included: a yo-yo, a princess diary, an electric whoopie cushion, toy handcuffs, and a home pregnancy test. All very practical gifts. Michelle was lucky enough to earn a toilet seat and Cameron took home a jock strap. I can't remember some of the others. I think Emily Chandler took home the coolest prize: a sweet kitty cat computer mouse pad I purchased for $2...very, very classy. She better use it.

Trading White Elephant gifts reminded me of those Hotel California parties we had and how one year Jamie and Carl wrapped up Madsen's clothes and when people opened the gifts, Madsen was like... "Hey, that's my shirt!" Or when Carlos' date picked the plain-looking gift wrapped in an inconspicuous white shopping bag and when she opened it she was horrified to find a fresh crab from the sea food counter. And for a moment we all thought she said it was a "crap" and I thought to myself, now that is a white elephant gift that will go down in infamy. I also thought (I'm embarrassed to say), "Why didn't I think of that?" For future reference... please still invite me to your parties, I will bring no such gift.

So, thanks Wheelers for having faith in us to behave like civilized people for your party. We had such a great time!

White Christmas...sort of

Every year our community trucks in tons of "snow" so the kids can have a white Christmas. In theory, it's a really cool idea. They have hot cocoa, caroling, a train ride, and Santa. In execution, the night goes very differently than you'd think. The snow is really just like shaved ice and all the kids get so wild about the idea of snow that they go CRAZY. It seriously turns into a mosh pit and little kids can get trampled. And it all turns into a sloppy glop of mud. So we let the kids play in it before it gets too out of hand. You can see in this photo that the novelty of snow has well worn off for Santi.

Our pals Darci and Chloe who live up the street. Aren't they sooo cute. Look at Marin's shirt... she looks like she romped around in a pig sty.

And then there's the train. So the thing about border life is that there is rarely order to things and rarely does anyone adhere even remotely to the idea of a line. Everyone just rushes to whatever it is you're waiting for or just casually steps in front of you. I'm not sure why this is but last year we gave up after waiting for THIS train for like an hour (seriously, THIS train?). Look how stoked the girls are to be able to finally squeeze on. And check out the driver. He's my favorite. Doesn't he just glow with Christmas spirit to be driving Santa's train. It's just too much. I wonder if we'll have a White Christmas next year. One thing's for sure, this whole experience has me thinking an entirely different scene when I hear old Bing croon that Christmas classic.

Happy Birthday KMQ Ellis!

I am sooooo glad I found these pictures in time to wish you a proper Happy Birthday. Phew! So many memories and so little time and blogging space but here goes:

Thanks for enrolling in Laura Hamblin's creative writing class so we could meet and begin this beautiful thing we call friendship. And thanks for pressuring me to go to Camp Blodgett so it is always "my home away from home." And that Pizza Bob milkshake...yummy. M2 was such a magical time but looking through these pictures seriously had me on the floor. Thank goodness for Holly Robb and her dress-up box! And for Paqui always buying Candi toys the we could play with on the 9ft couch like the "Big Ole Ball." And what would we have done without Alyson? She tried her best to slipcover that ugly couch. Of course I'll never forget our weekly lunch dates in the Cougareat with Pleasantly Brandi so we could furiously scrawl out a poem right before class just to be met with Susan Howe's disappointed and yet quizzical look. Could we seriously be devoting entire poems to a donut and your booty? And I'm glad you didn't go out with that guy from that class even though he was sensitive to the humanities because Abram is for sure the man for you. And on that note, a little bonus for your birthday...

People in the newsroom who are next to get their butts kicked by Abram because they had a crush on Kristin (in order of the severity of the crush):

1. Swanny
2. Dusty
3. Alan
4. Jodi Dreher
5. My cousin David
6. Anyone who read the Zoom article, "Kristin Quinn on the Ball"
7. Probaby Grant, but I'm not sure

You really are the best! Everyone who knows you, loves you. Because afterall (in your own words), "I'm Kristin Quinn!" Have a great birthday!!!

Happy Anniversary!

Happy Anniversary Granny and Grandpa! And just think that it all started 57 years ago and after they were married, Grandpa treated Granny to McDonald's where they split a cheeseburger.
Two of my favorite stories from Granny and Grandpa's early years of marriage are the breadmaking story and the bean story.
So when Grandpa was based at Camp San Luis Obispo, CA he brought home a huge bulk ration of baker's yeast. He thought Granny would like to try and make homemade bread for the first time. She prepared a recipe for rolls and when the recipe called for a package of yeast, instead of adding a tablespoon, she added the entire package of yeast. She set it to rise in the oven, which is exactly what it did. By the time Grandpa came home, the dough had risen so much that the oven door was plopped open. They decided they couldn't salvage the dough and took it to the trash outside. While they were sleeping that night, they awoke to the sound of the metal trash can lid crashing to the ground. They laughed knowing the dough had risen so much that it toppled the lid.
The other story is when Granny had bought a beautiful pair of high heels. Now Granny loves shoes and she was known to wear quite the sexy heel. She loved this pair so much but they pinched her toes a little. Grandpa said he would take care of it and stretch them for her. His method of choice was to pack the toe of the high heel with pinto beans and then add water knowing the beans would absorb water and expand. They did expand but unfortunately the shoe took on the shape of each bean and Granny's high heels took on a bumpy texture at the toe.
I'm so grateful for you Granny and Grandpa and for the love you've shown me and my family. I hope you have a wonderful anniversary and I hope you celebrate in style. (Maybe you won't have to split a cheeseburger!)
We Love You!

Fa la la la la...!

Monday was our 5th annual Christmas Caroling FHE. Our little caroling tradition has been lifted out of obscurity since moving to Tejas. There is no shortage of talent in this group of child stars. The kids have such a blast. The first year we went caroling, our neighbors had no idea what in the heck we were doing or what we wanted. Apparently there aren't too many a caroling throng strolling about South Texas. A lot of them thought we were out for donations. So that was awkward. They were probably like, "los mormones, 'tan locos!" So this year, I think they've gotten the idea. More people are willing to open their doors. Except one, well they opened it and then they closed it as the kids were singing. They're new to the states and probably just a little freaked out at this goup of little kids yelling, I mean singing "Jingle Bells." They can't hide, we'll get 'em next year. We tried our best, there's no shame in that.

After singing Jingle Bells several times in a row, and a try at "Rudolph" (now this is a really long song if you hadn't noticed), the kids tried their hand at "We wish you a Merry Christmas" which I think was on a loop because they sang just the chorus like 3 or 4 times before I caught on and cut them off with, "OK, Merry Christmas! Bye-bye!" It was sooo cute.

And here's Jacob Sullivan. The Sullivans came with us last year and graced us with their presence again the other night. Phew! They totally boost our numbers with their four kids. We also had the Garmendia's four girls (ADORABLE!), the 3 Moss boys (LOVE 'EM), and the veteran Lindsey girls (Kaitlyn came prepared with a red nose and antlers). We wrapped the night all up with cookies and cocoa at our house.

Allow me to wax cheesy for a second... The sun set and the night was just chilly enough for hot cocoa (this is a big deal and rare for Tejas). I thought, hey this might work. Everyone seemed to show up at the same time. Bri opened the door to some of the greatest people I know, and they were bringing plates of treats and had such joy and excitement on their faces. And for a second I stopped at the end of the hall and just watched them come in greeting each other with familiar smiles and laughter. I thought, this is Christmas. I am so grateful for people who help fill my life with meaning. There is just so much happiness to be found in this world. I'm glad I have friends and family who continually remind me of that.

Life's a Beach

Do you remember those ridiculous T-shirts with the lame sayings like this post? Anyway, we went to South Padre Island for the day last week. It was a much needed break from Rio Grande Valley life (I'll explain later. Really, I will). We're grateful to have a beach in close proximity, even if it isn't the Pacific. The Gulf doesn't hold a candle but the water is quite warm and South Padre is one of the best places in the country for kite boarding. I had hoped to buy Bri a practice kite as a Christmas present, but no luck. The shop was closed when we got there. Even though it was crazy windy, the kids were so happy to be on the sand again after such a long time. Abram was a first timer and insisted that sand was created for the distinct purpose of going into his mouth as well as all sorts of nooks and crannies. Especially the crannies. With tithing settlement season upon us, it was great to have Bri all to ourselves for a while. So it's nice to know that when life's a beach, you can just go to the beach.

As a side note to our pleasant trip to the beach... Let me first preface this addition with the fact that I feel an unfounded need to call people by weird names. For example, I still call my husband of almost ten years by his first and last name (Brett Stott never approved of this formality). I also like to make up nicknames for people (Santi Belafonti, Shanna Montana, Rinner the Winner, Santi Sue Missy Moo Goo Gai Pan...whatever). I also like to tease Brian with whatever he's into at the time by calling him (what I think) is a clever name. As an avid reader of Hugh Nibley, I call him a Niblet. It's funny in my mind. Let me also preface that neither Brian nor I appreciate or condone the use of racial or cultural epithets. To summarize, dumb funny rhyming names that lovingly tease people = funny. Racial or cultural slurs = not funny. (That's a lot to preface.)

So the plot unfolds like this... After our visit to the beach, we stopped at Walmart for something on the way home. We were in a little bit of a hurry so we decided to split up. So I'm done with my stuff and looking for the rest of my family. They're all standing in front of a big screen TV watching episodes of Mr. Bean. Nothing tickles the girls' funny bone more than an episode of Mr. Bean's hilarious antics, which I fully support, but this is not the time. After asking everyone to part from Mr. Bean about three times, I notice my husband has not heard me or isn't listening. So from down the aisle I figure I'll get his attention by teasing him and saying in a loud voice, "COME ON BEANERS, LET'S GOOO!" You are aware that we live in a border town in South Texas? I just about died as the words left my mouth. Fortunately we were on South Padre or I may not have lived to retell the gruesome tale. Beaners in my mind at the moment were people who were currently watching Mr. Bean on a big screen in Walmart. I mean, some of my best friends are Mexican, like my mom, you know, my whole family. So it just goes to show that you can't be too careful. Viva La Raza!