To be honest, I’m having a hard time putting words on paper about our Christmas in Utah.
There was the two day drive with a one-year-old, which thankfully went very well. Jack was a champ in the car and as long as there was a steady flow of goldfish crackers and juice cups, he was a happy boy. I think his favorite ‘toy’ was the red spatula I grabbed as we ran out the door. As you can see, he even took a snooze with it.
There was the beautiful sunshine, and a five mile hike through a gorgeous hidden valley where Aaron saw five moose, there was the awesome skiing and getting to spend some really good time with my youngest brother. We are dorks.
There was the day when we FINALLY converted Aaron to the dark side and he grudgingly strapped himself into skiis and instantly fell in love. My father couldn’t be more proud. He has now converted both of his sons and his son-in-law back to the ways of skiing. There were beers at the top of the mountain to celebrate.
And it just wouldn’t have been Christmas without my mother’s incredible cooking, my dad’s homeade cinnamon rolls (which he made with whole wheat flour this year and let’s be honest, DAD, we won’t be doing that again!). We laughed a lot, we played wih Jack, we yelled at the dogs. We opened a ridiculous number of presents, watched a little football, went to see Avatar (unimpressive) and drank a lot of coffee.
We can’t forget the drive home which included wrangling a pedestal sink from one of my parent’s bathroom’s into our already loaded down 4runner or the fact that Jackson was awake at 4am and instead of trying to get him back to sleep, we simply loaded him into the car and set out for home in the pitch black early morning.
So, in many many ways, it was a perfect holiday. Our family together; celebrating, relaxing and enjoying each other’s company. We don’t get to see each other often, so when we do, our time together is priceless. And for that, I am thankful.