Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Thursday, December 18, 2008
We took Boston out to our drive way today and let him tube with a friend. He had a lot of fun! He loves the snow. 
Cousins !
We were lucky to be able to spend a after noon with some cousins. Katie and Hunter were able to come over for a much needed play date! We were able to chit-chat, ohh and ahh over are kids and shared some of (Hunter and Baileys) new talents! Thanks Katie for picking us to hang out with on your Christmas Vacation.
Hunter and Bailey teaching each other to roll over!
Katie and Hunter holding on for the ride!
Hunter and Bailey teaching each other to roll over!
Katie and Hunter holding on for the ride!
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Ward Christmas party
So Boston was doing fine on Santas lap as long as he had treats. But as soon as we took them away to get a good picture (hoping for a good Christmas card this year) He soon realized where he was, and he was not happy. Major alligator tears and screams that seemed to be uncontrollable.Bailey seemed fined, she could care less what was going on around her. Boston is currently is not a fan Santa. We went to the mall the other day. We asked Boston if he wanted to sit on Santas lap. He shook his head no and quickly attached himself to his dad's leg not allowing us to go shopping in the direction we needed to go. Oh well maybe next year!.
A Christmas Orange
However impossible and elusive the Christmas message may seem some years, I aways take great comfort in this story of a little orphan boy.
Jake was a resident of an orphan's home. One of ten children supported by what contributions the home could secure on a continuous struggle. There was very little to eat. It was seldom very warm in the winter time, for fuel was expensive. But at Christmas time there always seemed to be a little more to eat and the home seemed a little bit warmer, and it was a time for more than the usual enjoyment. But,more than this, there was an orange. At Christmas each child received an orange. The only time of the year that such a rare thing was provided-and it was coveted by each child like no other thing they had ever possessed. They would save it for several days. Admiring it, feeling it, loving it, and contemplating the moment when they would eat it. Truly it was the "piece de resistance" to the Christmas time, and the year, for many would wait until the New Year's Day or later to eat it. Often times it would start to dry out and shrivel before they would eat it in order to salvage what they could.
This Christmas Day Jake had offended the rules or authority of the home in some manner and his punishment was the loss of the orange privilege. After a year of waiting for this rare occasion, for the most desired of all rewards, it was to be denied. Although the offense was rather minor, still it was an infraction of the rules that must govern in regulated society. Jake spent Christmas Day empty and alone-it even seemed that the other children did not want to associate with the person who did not have an orange.
Nighttime arrived and this was worst of all. Jake could not sleep. There was no love in the world. There was no forgiving. And certainly there could be no God that would permit a contrite little soul to suffer so much by himself. Silently he sobbed for the future of mankind; and the world perhaps, but mostly because he did not have an orange like the other kids did.
A soft hand placed on Jake's shoulder startled him momentarily and an object was quickly shoved into his hand. The donor into the dark of the room leaving Jake with what he did not immediately identify as an orange. Not a regular run-of-the-orchard orange, but one fabricated from segments of nine oranges. Nine other highly prized oranges that would of out of necessity be eaten this day instead of several days hence.
Jake was a resident of an orphan's home. One of ten children supported by what contributions the home could secure on a continuous struggle. There was very little to eat. It was seldom very warm in the winter time, for fuel was expensive. But at Christmas time there always seemed to be a little more to eat and the home seemed a little bit warmer, and it was a time for more than the usual enjoyment. But,more than this, there was an orange. At Christmas each child received an orange. The only time of the year that such a rare thing was provided-and it was coveted by each child like no other thing they had ever possessed. They would save it for several days. Admiring it, feeling it, loving it, and contemplating the moment when they would eat it. Truly it was the "piece de resistance" to the Christmas time, and the year, for many would wait until the New Year's Day or later to eat it. Often times it would start to dry out and shrivel before they would eat it in order to salvage what they could.
This Christmas Day Jake had offended the rules or authority of the home in some manner and his punishment was the loss of the orange privilege. After a year of waiting for this rare occasion, for the most desired of all rewards, it was to be denied. Although the offense was rather minor, still it was an infraction of the rules that must govern in regulated society. Jake spent Christmas Day empty and alone-it even seemed that the other children did not want to associate with the person who did not have an orange.
Nighttime arrived and this was worst of all. Jake could not sleep. There was no love in the world. There was no forgiving. And certainly there could be no God that would permit a contrite little soul to suffer so much by himself. Silently he sobbed for the future of mankind; and the world perhaps, but mostly because he did not have an orange like the other kids did.
A soft hand placed on Jake's shoulder startled him momentarily and an object was quickly shoved into his hand. The donor into the dark of the room leaving Jake with what he did not immediately identify as an orange. Not a regular run-of-the-orchard orange, but one fabricated from segments of nine oranges. Nine other highly prized oranges that would of out of necessity be eaten this day instead of several days hence.
Thursday, December 4, 2008
Moms handy tool men !
Boston helped Dad put together his very first art desk. (With a little help from Bailey)
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