The crafts I do have to be quick, simple and cheap. Otherwise, I lack the desire and patience needed to finish the craft well.
I made snowman kits as gifts to a few of our friends and neighbors.
The kit had a scarf cut from some spare knit fabric, buttons, a carrot and coal eyes. I was quite proud of my eyes, although they are pretty redneck. I made them out of black duct tape.
This is my family’s nativity video we made this year.
This one is a little bit better quality.
It’s snowed. A lot. Most people love it or hate it. I could get annoyed at the slippery ice, dangerous roads, and the need to bundle up if I go somewhere.
But there is quiet and white and beauty and I choose to love it. I love going out, often in the dark, when the snow is lightly coming down and covering everything with a blanket. Everything is still, movement is slow, soft. It is peaceful, clean. I love to shovel snow, for the opportunity to work outside even when there is no gardening to do.
The kids love it too. They bundle on snow gear, or ignore the fact that it is freezing and go outside without coats on. They’ve shoveled paths through the yard, come in crying because they have snow down their coat only to shortly go back outside. We’ve sled down hills together, and even Henry was crying when it was time to go home. Even though he was cold, he wanted to sled down the hill one more time, and faster was better. 
PB loves Santa this year. He didn’t ask for much, but he is so excited that he can get candy and presents for Christmas. C doesn’t care much, and H is oblivious.
I remember being told outright that Santa wasn’t real when I was about eight, and I don’t enjoy the memory. So with my kids, I don’t ever say Santa is real or even fake. I let them decide. For instance, if PB asks a question about Santa I’ll turn the question back to him, just say it’s magic, use terms like, “I like to think so,” or even “pretend” when they ask hard questions. I think kids want to pretend it’s real. As a parent, I want to allow them that opportunity. But I also think kids never really completely believe. I don’t want to ever outright lie to my children and I’m not going out of way to convince them that something that is not real actually is.
On Thanksgiving I thought of my home, filled with things I love. My greatest blessing is my family. I never get bored, I’m never lonely and I almost always feel very loved.
Besides my family, I have a beautiful (or working to be beautiful) spacious home, a garden, chickens, healthy food. My husband has great employment close to our home, I get to be home with my children, and we are all healthy.
Henry is getting all grown up! He’s up and down stairs, and walking around, saying little words and giving raspberry kisses. He’s the earliest walker out of all the brothers, he won’t be a year old for a few more weeks.
He still adores nursing and won’t sleep through the night, so I still have my baby too.
We went on a small hike in the hills above our house.
I love this picture. I look good. No one else does.
PB doesn’t hate school anymore. C is almost potty trained. And H actually slept through the night last night. There is nothing to complain about in life really. Hey, I even lost 20 pounds without trying. (I actually didn’t think I needed to lose weight. It just kinda happened, I think mostly because I like to exercise and eat healthy.)
I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints I cannot say with absolute certainly that I know the church is true. I doubt I ever will. My faith is based on intangible proof. All faith is, that is why it is faith. I do have had experiences, feelings, and life that has led me to believe it is true and the right church for me.
My faith is not infallible. A while ago, I stumbled across some information that really made me question my faith. In just moments a lifetime of belief can be brought into question and even discarded. It was a little scary for me. And it led me to a lot of soul searching.
I remembered watching Life of Pi. At the end, what I took out of it, is that we are free to choose our beliefs. And life is better with God. Do we want stories of animals, tigers, and surprising adventure or stories of death and hardship?
I can choose what I believe. There is always evidence for both sides in matters of faith. I looked at the evidence before me, and realized I didn’t care about it. I wanted to believe in the faith I grew up with. I felt like all my faith had been taken away, and all I had left was a little kernel, just a simple desire that I wanted it to be true.
I wondered if that was enough. Do I need a strong, firm testimony, or is it enough to simply want to believe? The answer came in the following weeks as the faith I had developed in my life was restored, I had questions answered, and other questions that no longer mattered as much. My little seed of faith grew. It did not stay small for long. It was enough to simply want to believe, but God does not let faith stay that small for long.
There is still so much out that that could make me question again. I don’t care about it much anymore. I choose to believe, to have faith regardless of what is out there. Faith is not a matter of finding out what is 100% correct, but choosing that path that has God in it. When my life has God, it can be hard, but it is always beautiful.
Further Reading:
We went up to the American West Heritage Center to the corn maze. They had a map. It was more fun. I would rather follow a map than get lost. It is also a huge bonus when you child has a potty emergency and needs to get out ASAP. We picked this corn maze over others because it had more activities as well. Curtis was in heaven on the train ride.
Pumpkin carving was memorable. Just as we were about five minutes in, Joe sliced his thumb and had to go get stitches. I was trying to help Joe out, Henry decided he needed milk right then and was sobbing. The kids were blissfully undisturbed and continued to paint their pumpkins. Luckily, Joe could drive himself so he went, I stayed and finished up the pumpkins and everything was fine. Except for Joe’s thumb, but it is almost better.
We had so much candy for Halloween. Peter’s opportunities for candy were huge. We had trick or treat at the nursing home, he had a school party and a party at the library, then the school carnival, trunk-or-treat at the church and finally regular trick or treating Halloween night. How about we limit candy to just regular old trick-or-treat and hand out stickers everywhere else? Curtis is apparently sensitive to eating too many sweets and ended up sick a couple of days.
I wish I could have convinced Peter to be a minion as well (he even had a yellow shirt and overalls), but it was not to be. He was Robin, using the same superhero costumes that we have use for Halloween for four years. It was a bit small this year, gladly, so he’ll have to do something else next Halloween. He did take his stuffed batman he got from Grandma for his birthday, which made the costume cuter. Curtis and Henry were minions, which is the easiest costume ever. Yellow shirt, overalls, some type of goggles. Well, Henry skipped the goggles part.
He had fun. The Sunday before we had a party with Joe’s family. It was a just because party, but Peter thought it was for his birthday. On his birthday we went down to Grandma’s (my mom) and visited with cousins, went to a small amusement park there, and ate pizza and cake.
He didn’t get a lot of presents. Minecraft (which was inexpensive, but now takes up much of his and his dad’s time), a couple of toys. He didn’t care he was just excited it was his birthday.
Liz Braithwaite 