Christmas Eve Tradition--Phoenix Zoo

Even though Christmas Eve 2016 was rainy and cold, we still took our annual trip to the zoo.

It's not so much seeing the zoo that we love--it's that no one is there and we basically have the run of the place.

With so many littles, the best way to see the animals is on the train. Usually we get a huge bag of kettle corn and share it, but Gran forgot this time.

Nobody really seemed to mind.

One of my favorite things about the zoo is that it's a different experience each time.

This morning the tiger was agitated and paced right in front of the glass. The kids loved/feared him  and squealed every time he turned the corner.

Lily decided after this trip that she wants to raise a baby tiger.

I think this will be the closest any of them ever get to one, though.

Micah is now one of the big kids, patiently indulging the younger ones. That's so weird to me.

Jonah and Annie are only three months apart, but Jonah thinks he's big enough to pull her and Tommy in the wagon.

I think he was successful for a few feet before he got sick of it and ran off.

Heidi's little boys love Micah and Hammer, as they call him. And my boys love them right back.

It's fun, because my two older boys had cousins (Spencer, Myke, Matt, and Tommy Olsen) who acted as their big brothers. Now it's my little boys' turn to be big brothers to their nephews.

It was cold that day, and the orangutans were in the enclosure, with Baby swinging from the ceiling and causing trouble while Mama tried to clean her off and calm her down.

Sounds a bit like my house most days.

Our traditional end to the zoo on Christmas Eve is the carousel.

Jonah was disappointed when the Kimodo dragon didn't have wings. This was more what he had in mind, I think.

Girls sticking together.

Ben. Need I say more?

Spending a few hours at the zoo on Christmas Eve always helps the day go faster and keeps our family together most of the day. While it makes wrapping, baking, and prepping a little stressed, it usually forces me to have most things done before we leave.

Saturday Stories in 2017--Timpanogos

I'm sitting in the cozy Salt Lake City airport, watching the snow flurries get stronger and stronger, praying that they don't get bad enough to delay my flight home. I've been here in Utah since Wednesday, helping Ben get set up for his first semester of college at BYU. More on that next week.

I recognized my importance in the link of life on Thursday. I knew three of my four grandparents, heard stories of their lives from their lips. Through me, these people will stay alive for my children, my grandchildren, and hopefully my great-grandchildren. It's an unsettling feeling--recognizing your life has an undetermined end.

As Ben and I scurried across the Wasatch Front, purchasing this and that to furnish his dorm room, I started waxing nostalgic. Stories spilled from my mouth at each passed landmark or memory. I was surprised how little Ben knew of these stories. I was once told that parents assume their children know all of their parents' stories, because they tell us we're repeating ourselves all the time, but in fact, children know very little of their parents' lives before they arrived on the scene. I decided that Saturdays of 2017 would become 52 stories from my life--or from my family's life. I don't anticipate them coming out in any order or linking together, so here goes.

This mountain has always been special to me. I grew up in Idaho, but we always traveled to Utah at least twice a year--for Thanksgiving and family reunions. From the time I was a little girl, I would excitedly wait to round Point of the Mountain in Draper so that I could be the first in the car to spy Mount Timpanogos. My dad would always comment on how it looked on that trip to Orem. "Timp looks really dry this year" or "Wow. Look at the snow!" or just simply "There's my mountain." Because Timp was his mountain, it became my mountain, too.

He used to tell us about his adventures at the foot of Mount Timpanogos with his brothers and his friends--how they would ride their bikes from 1720 South all through the apple and cherry orchards to the foothills. They would play Cowboys and Indians or recreate scenes from Western movies or just explore. Sometimes they would ride their horse, Trixie, and sometimes they would snitch fruit until their bellies hurt. When he retold these adventures to me, I always pictured them in black and white--like Andy Griffith's Mayberry or Ozzie and Harriet. How would it have been to be a kid in the 50s, the golden age of childhood where they ran free and played at the foot of such a beautiful mountain? In my mind, my dad always wore a white t-shirt, flannel shirt, cuffed jeans, and black Chuck Taylors, with his hair slicked and shaped just right. I've seen a few pictures of him at this age, and those pictures transformed into movies in my mind.

I don't remember how old I was when he told me the legend behind the mountain--the story of the Indian princess and the brave from another tribe who fell in love and lived their own Romeo and Juliet story. In this version of the story, when the beautiful princess died a tragic and untimely death for love, her sleeping profile was preserved as the ridge, and I always looked for her long hair and strong profile on the north end of the mountain. When I learned that Timp had a cave and in that cave was a special room where the "heart of Timpanogos" is protected (a stalactite deep in the cave), I knew the story must be real somehow.

Years later, when I lived in first Provo then in Orem, I would find Timp during all seasons, checking on her for my dad. How was the snow level for July? Were the leaves changing yet--first high then gradually creeping down to the valley floor? I felt so lucky to live there at the foot, just as he had as a boy.

When Ben and I were in Provo, Timpanogos was shrouded behind snow clouds, and I hoped I would get to show him this mountain that means so much to me and to my dad. The next day all the clouds had cleared, and the most spectacular winter day spread across Utah Valley. I left my hotel, picked Ben up from his new dorm room, and as we turned the corner into the parking lot, I said, "There she is. There's Timp."

Watch over my boy, Princess. And I'll make sure he checks in with you periodically this semester. 

Quick Snaps

The holidays with the Brubakers have gone much too quickly.

There have been a few bumps in the road--kids arguing, things breaking, running out of milk at the most inopportune moments (when fresh cookies come out of the oven, am I right?). But the worst was the vomit.

First Nathan on Christmas Day. We really thought it was too much junk until . . .

. . . Jonah threw up last night. But he always shoves huge bites in his mouth, and it didn't smell like he was sick, so we didn't think he was sick until . . .

 . . . Heidi dashed from the couch to the wood floor holding baby Thomas's head in Sam's shirt to catch the throw up.

Hmmm. Probably sick, but they're acting ok. Until . . .

. . . Ellie threw up twice in the night, and Jonah added to the count a few times himself.

And Tucker woke up feeling kinda crappy, too.

All the barf foiled our plans for the day, to be sure. And I think they're headed home Saturday instead of Monday now. Sometimes, you just need to get home. I get that.

So, despite the barfing kids, we all got dressed to take a quick family picture today. I hadn't planned clothes or a location or anything, but we got cleaned up and stood together in front of the camera for a few shots. I'm thrilled with them.

The Brubakers

 All four holding still--not all looking at the camera, but we'll take what we can get.

The Dentons with new baby Eli

Annie loves that brother of hers. Can you tell?

And each of my kiddos still at home.

Ben

 He's leaving for BYU next week, and I don't know if I can stand that thought.

Lily

 My girl is getting so beautiful. Before I know it, she'll be gone, too.

Hey! Who said Micah could grow up?

Rum. This kid's chocolate eyes melt my heart.

And my baby girl

You can't see in this photo, but she lost her front tooth two days ago. I hate when that happens, because they suddenly aren't little any more.

Here's the whole clan--all seventeen of us.

When I started my blog eight years ago, this is what the kids looked like on Christmas Eve:

Where has the time gone?

At least we haven't lost our crazy.

Goodbye, 2016. It's been an adventure.

Love,

Denton Sanatorium

Channeling Grandpa Tucker

Heidi and Sam brought their family to AZ for Christmas, and their only request in return for sharing their holiday with us was for me to watch their little ones while they spent a day together. 

Done and done.

Ben, Lily and Micah helped me shepherd their four littles and both of my littles on an adventure yesterday morning. First stop was the bookstore.

 

 They wandered for almost an hour, bringing me books or exclaiming at superheroes or princesses they found.

 Books are one of my favorite things, and I love sharing them with these little people.

After our book purchase, Lily convinced us that Chick-Fil-A would be infinitely better than McDonald's because 1) Chick-Fil-A, and 2) they have a play place.

Wow. Chicken nuggets disappear quick in that crowd! I was grateful Ben and Lily were there with me, especially when it was time to round up the monkeys to go home. Many of the littles didn't think their time was up yet, but we got them all buckled in the suburban and heading home pretty quickly. I've forgotten how much time it takes to do all the carseats and convince toddlers to change tasks.

I haven't put Heidi's kids down for naps in a long time, and I know Heidi does it easily and quickly. I was hoping I would have the same luck. Ellie went to Eve's room with her new princess book, Thomas quickly fell asleep in the pack-n-play, so all that was left were the two middle boys. I tucked them in with their books (after Jonah tearfully told me that I'd bought the WRONG book and he wouldn't look at that one! He changed his mind after his nap, so all is good.) and went upstairs. They were laughing and playing, so I headed back downstairs with my laptop to lie down next to them on the couch. They quickly settled down and fell asleep.

At that moment, I thought of my dad. He always used to volunteer to settle the toddlers down for their naps, reading or telling them stories, rubbing their backs, and quietly talking to them until . . . they both fell asleep. 

Just like my dad, I've never met a nap I didn't like, so I turned off my computer, grabbed a stray blanket from the floor, cozied myself up next to my two toddler boys . . . 

 . . . and fell asleep.

It was a good day.

Christmas 2016 Recap

What an incredible Christmas this was. I love it when Christmas falls on Sunday because it seems so much easier to focus on what the holiday truly means.

That's good, because I took so few pictures.

I didn't get a picture of my entire family together for Christmas Eve with all the little ones in the new jammies listening to Brad read the Christmas story out of my parents' family Bible. That was a full circle moment for me--surrounded by all my grandkids reading from the same pages I remember as a child.

I didn't get a picture of stockings in my bedroom Christmas morning--all 17 of us eating chocolate for breakfast and waiting to go downstairs.

I didn't get a picture of Christmas morning commotion--the nerf guns and the new clothes.

I didn't get a picture of all 17 of us ready for Church in Christmas dresses and bow ties.

For a long time I've been the official picture taker, and I . . . just forgot. This is so foreign to me.

I did get a few shots with my phone as the day died down.

What is it about this pieface game that is irresistible? I think I'm the only one who hasn't braved it, and that's only because we ran out of whipped cream!

My sister-in-law is one of the kindest, most charitable people I know. When they arrived for dessert Christmas night, they had a Congolese immigrant family in tow--husband and wife, their daughter, and his nephew. Since they only speak French, Amy translated their story for us. Four years in a Namibian refuge camp after his father was assassinated in Congo. Waiting for paperwork to the U.S. Not knowing if any of their family is still alive. It was sobering as we sat amidst the wrapping paper scraps and empty boxes--listening and imagining.

Lily immediately scooped up their little Esther, tickled her and danced with her and laughed with her.

The more I see of the world, the smaller it gets. I wish . . . well . . . I just wish.

After a few rounds of scum, the cousins left and the rest of us settled down for the night. The adult game of Catan was interrupted suddenly by the unmistakeable sound of a small child throwing up on the stairs.

It wouldn't be Christmas without someone getting sick, right? Or, in this case, eating more candy than your body can tolerate.

After a quick bath, we spread towels out on the family room floor underneath Nathan and his bowl. Heidi and Sam returned to their game, and I ran my fingers through his curly blond hair until he fell asleep. It was my favorite moment of the day, spread out on the couch with my little grandson under the lights of the Christmas tree.

With 17 people in our family, the quiet moments are rare but so precious.

And Christmas may be over with few photos to prove it, but 2016 will be in my memory always. Nothing is better than having all of my family together for the holidays.

For any day.

And He Was There

Again, no time to properly edit photos, but I've got to get this posted.

We heard he was coming down the walkway, and then we saw him.

He dropped his bags . . .

. . .  and he was home.

There are no words to describe this moment until it happens for you.

My excitement to hug Ben only beat one other person--and that was Lily.

Tucker was next, and I loved seeing my two adult sons together. Two men.

And Dad patiently waited for his turn.

Micah

And Hyrum

Heidi was on FaceTime with her little ones in Idaho.

Then Ben got reacquainted with Annie, who was just a few months old when he left.

Aunt and Uncle

Mom Shauna

Eve was overwhelmed by the moment and her excitement morphed into fear. She would hardly look at Ben at the airport, but once we were in the car, her excitement returned.

This was a hug I'd been waiting 28 months to see. Remember when Ben's best friend, McKay left for Korea last June?

That's how long it's been since these two saw each other.

Still a little bit silly, but both grown men.

How I love them both. I'm so grateful they had each other to support commiserate with these last two years--and for most of their lives.

And McKay's sister Abby got to hug her other older brother.

There is always so much joy at the airport when a missionary returns.

My four oldest kids. Soon Heidi will be here and we can get this photo for real.

And Karli's amazing artwork.

Mama Cole. This dearest friend of mine changed this boy's diapers and has loved him every day of his life.

All of us together. I can't wait till Saturday when Heidi is here, too.

I couldn't hug him enough that day.

Same old Ben--teasing and laughing and making those around him happy.

Eve took her responsibility for this suitcase very seriously and got very upset when someone else lifted it into the car.

With our stake president just before he was released from full-time missionary service.

Such a happy moment to have him finally home with all of us.

We love you, Ben, and we're so glad you're back home with us for a few months.

Hurrah.

Hurrah for Israel.