Catching up: Christmas 2010

Better late than never, here's the record that we actually celebrated Christmas in 2010.

I can't go a year without trying to get a picture of all the children in front of the tree, a tradition I should cease since it inevitably leads to tears (not exclusively the children's either) and a desire for bloodshed. Nonetheless, I still can't give up on this effort, every year thinking that this will be the time it actually works.  And while I don't love them during the photo-taking process, my love always returns that evening once they're in bed, soundly asleep and looking as precious as ever.

This year we got to stay home and Auntie Kami and Sha-sha came to us.  Kami hadn't even had a full day in NY after flying in from Oakland when she was willing to brave the holiday traffic on Amtrak and come down.  She even brought me a personal selection of treasures from the Berkeley Bowl. It was a very Merry Christmas to me already.

On Christmas Eve we went out on a hike to the arc-corner monument at the border of Delaware and Pennsylvania on the Mason Dixon trail.

That night we actually built a fire and had some hot cocoa and story time followed by a reading of the Nativity story.  

As for Christmas Day.........

I made this stuffed pumpkin for the Christmas dinner, and it turned out as fabulously as the recipe promised.  Everything else was pretty darn good too.  It may have been my least stressed-out Christmas dinner ever.

For the Christmas-movie-of-the-year, Adam got Fantastic Mr. Fox and we even managed to convince Kami to watch it--even though it is (gasp!) animated, and therefore certain to be unbearably insipid--and she admitted to liking it.

Kami and Sharon spent a lot of time with the Kindle looking like this.

 We let Max stay up late that night and play games with the grown-ups. It might have been the best night of his life, he was so high with happiness. And he holds his own pretty well in Quiddler and is a superstar in Rummicub.

The day after Christmas was the first big snow of the season.  We've had snow on the ground ever since.  The kids spent a good part of the rest of the winter break outside playing and sledding.

 Thanks to the snow it took Sharon and Kami something like 9 hours to get back to NYC on the train. Too bad we couldn't have just kept them for one more day to avoid all of that.  Otherwise, it was a fab time for all.

Going Out With A Bang

2010 is going out with a bang for Saul.  There's a little shiner on his right eye is thanks to a noble attempt to get down from a bench.  Really, though, this might be the first time he tried getting down from a bench so I see it as a landmark event--as it means he is now able to do (as they say in therapy-speak) motor planning.  At 21 months he's finally a walker and climber!  And resultingly, he's also now a run-away-from-mom-in-the-store-er, and a get-out-of-the-stroller-er, and a draw-on-the-cupboards-and-walls-with-pencils-and crayons-er, and a no-longer-satisfied-to-sit-on-any-lap-for-long-periods-of-time-er.  So, it's been a big month for him.

And it's been a big month for me.  It's the last day of December and it's moments before we're out the door to some grand festivities.  It's already obvious that I didn't make my original goal of posting once a day for the whole month, but I'm ok with it.  In some ways I feel badly about it, but mostly I think that I still came out ahead since I'm sure posted more than I am sure that I would have otherwise.  I still have stuff to say about December and about 2010, and maybe I still will in January, or maybe even in June, or maybe never, but what I'm trying really hard not to do is to be apologetic about the state or content of the blog.  I'm just trying to do what I can do. 
 
While I look back and feel like even despite the occasional shiners, 2010 was a great year and I learned a lot.

But I have a feeling that 2011 will be even better.
 
Happy New Year

Max's Band Concert

Here's the deal:  Last year Max tells me that in 4th grade he'll get to be in the school band and that he'd really like to play the tuba.  However, if I've learned anything over my last nearly ten years of parenting, it is the art of re-direction/distraction.  So, I responded with my best-laid plan of something basically like how that was so awesome that he'd like to play the tuba, but that it is so big and too heavy to carry and play so why doesn't he play the French Horn instead, and in fact, I can get Uncle Joel's old French horn so we won't even have to rent one (!) and then by the time you're in high school you can try the tuba (but by then you'll have forgotten all about it....perfect!).  And, he bought it.  Until the school year started and now as a 4th grader he met with the school band director and, lo and behold, she tells him that if he's interested in the tuba he doesn't have to start with the French Horn but can play the euphonium.  Isn't that so great!!  Just great.  If I had to pick an instrument based on the players physical qualities, the euphonium for Max--a boy who's voice is so squeeky that he's had teachers ask me if he can bring the pitch down at all--would be dead last on the list.  And so much for my best-laid plans, because I actually brought home the French horn from Utah, so now I have two large brass instruments at our house, both of which he thinks he can play. Practicing time is awesome.

Here's his first band concert.  I'm not sure if the overwhelming joy he feels for playing this instrument comes through, but he couldn't be more thrilled.  Don't miss the ending where he's sure to not be left unseen when it's time to take a bow. 

post edit:  Apparently I needed to give a warning to prospective viewers of this video to have a nearby box of tissues as you may be induced to tears from laughter.  And here I thought that my saying that this is a 4th grade band was sufficient. Enjoy.

Max's Piano recital

Here's the footage from Max's piano recital last week. I think that he did a really great job and all of the hard work that he's been putting in is starting to pay off. Never mind that we realized too late that the only black pants he currently has are floods, and his only black shoes are a bit tight. I guess he did some serious growing from last winter, which would explain why he has been asking for two sandwiches in his lunch lately, or why as soon as the recital was finished he sprinted to the refreshment table (and made it as the first one there).

To the Tabernacle

It's old news now, but two days ago the Provo Tabernacle was destroyed by a massive fire. I've been thinking about it a lot more than I would have expected.  I don't know how to describe the feelings that have overwhelmed me since Friday, except to say that it feels like a piece of my childhood--and my heritage in Provo--has been destroyed.

All the reports about the meaning of the building and its loss have been true: that it was the heart of the community, that it was Provo's most significant historical building, the most truly aesthetic building in Utah County, an important place for gatherings whether religious, performance, ceremonial, civic, or cultural.  Actually, Provo is not a huge town, so I think that its existence alone made Provo feel like it was an important and meaningful place.  At least it did to me. 

Tonight I went to a Christmas musical program at the Grace United Methodist Church in downtown Wilmington.  I couldn't help but sit there during that program and think about the Tabernacle.   Grace Church is the kind of church building where the Gothic revival architecture, with its massive exterior stone work, vaulted ceilings, pointed arches, and intricate interior carvings, is itself a type of divine worship. While the Tabernacle had elements of Gothic revival and a huge pipe organ, of course I can't compare the two buildings entirely. Each was built as a product of its community and environment.  The Tabernacle's Victorian-era stylings and the yellowish-orange brick (which I truly love) found on so many 19th century buildings in Utah might seem so homely in comparison.  And we Mormons are far too pragmatic even in our architecture to waste valuable space on ribbed vaulting when it could be turned into a wrap-around balcony with seats for another 1000+ people.  But in that huge space of Grace Church with the incredibly moving music--a full choir with strings, harp, oboe and huge pipe organ--and truly phenomenal talent, it became my own private memorial service for the building where I gained probably most of my education in musical appreciation. 

For years and years of my childhood my parents purchased "Family Season Tickets" to the Utah Valley Symphony.  Say what you will, but it was fantastic opportunity.  I want to know how many other cities the size of Provo had their own symphony? And for pennies really. Maybe the tickets were only $50 for the whole season for the whole family, but if more, probably not much.  I was too young to really assess the quality of the orchestra, but I did learn about music and its characteristics and structure (symphonic movements, orchestral dynamics, the concerto, etc.) about the formalities of an orchestra like the conductor or concert mistress, about concert manners (proper dress, behavior during performance, etc.), about instruments and their different sounds and roles in an orchestra.  However, I'm sure that more than anything, my parents were just taking us to gain some exposure to music and (hopefully) an appreciation for it.  At least, if I were to do the same thing as a parent today with my own children, that would be my goal.  I want to let my parents know right now that they succeeded in that with me.  Thank you.

Certainly the Provo of my childhood (and nostalgia) is more homey and small town than it is today, but how great is that. I admit, there were some performances where we got restless and my parents would allow us to go wandering around the building a little. After all, the balcony was never full and there were always other families up there with restless little kids doing the same things that we were.  So, we would climb into the big window ledges or walk up and down the spiral staircases in the corner turrets. And I realize now that largely that's because the Tabernacle wasn't a symphony hall or another expensive concert hall--it was a place to be shared and enjoyed by the whole community. And the community did use it.  I attended more than one holiday concert and Messiah sing-a-long, I attended musical recitals and performances both for church, school and private events. It was the place for stake conferences (where once I even spoke), Seminary graduation, convocation, etc.  I'd argue that there are not too many buildings in any city that can rival it in this capacity.  Something truly great has just died.
 
Rest in peace, Tabernacle.  The next time I visit Provo, it will be hard to drive by your block without you there and wonder what it is that now makes Provo special (because it's certainly not the NuSkin building).

No Post

This is a post to say that I can't do a post tonight.  Because I'm too tired. And my kitchen counter is still covered in the day's detritus, and if I were going to do anything extra tonight, it should be taking care of that.  We had Max's piano recital tonight. (In addition to a complete meltdown from both daughters--separately, of course. One before the recital; one after.)  Then after the recital and kids to bed, Adam and I spent the rest of the evening on Amazon.com (aka "Santa's Little Helper").   Now my electric blanket has been turned on to high and the heat in our house and gone down to low.  So I'm off to bed.  Everything else: tomorrow.

Going Out

Isabel dressed herself in this stylish outfit today. 

Her best pal 'dd' was over to play, and once he found something suitable to wear, they announced they were were "going out." 

Looks like they're getting ready to retire to Florida.