This post is mostly going to be an apology for the lack of pictures.
Last night, my mom, a handful of siblings, Keith, the boys, and I went to Temple Square to see the Christmas lights.
Living along the Wasatch Front in Utah, this is a holiday staple. Every year, we bundle up against the cold, brave the ice, and wander among the grounds surrounded by trees draped in millions of colored lights. The effect is quite magical. There is also a place to listen to the re-telling of the Christmas story.
Nothing puts me more in the Christmas spirit. And as the boys get older, they enjoy it more (instead of just being cold.) This year, their eyes were huge as they took in the lights.
Afterwards, when the 18 degree weather had taken it's full effect, my family came back to my apartment so share some cocoa and cookies.
(And here is where the apology is: I was all set to take some truly magical pictures, only to realized that the memory card for my camera was not in my camera, but at home. So no beautiful twinkling pictures of millions of Christmas lights).
Today, as I frantically wrapped Christmas presents and attempted to finish things up before we go out of town early tomorrow, it was obvious the boys needed some diversion.
So we set to work assembling a "gingerbread" house (actually, graham crackers, because no boys here like gingerbread.) We actually go quite ambitious, constructing a gingerbread church. The boys were quite proud of it.
These are the before pictures.
I would love to show you some after pictures, but those would look like a series of tears and then some full mouths of graham crackers and Mike-and-Ikes, since the house fell down after Blaise rather enthusiastically decorated the roof.
I think we'll stick with a kit next year. Might not taste as good, but is much sturdier. Which, in this case, is what counts in this house.