Snow WAR is a good War!

Armed with Aunt Noelle (aka Wala) and Uncle Marvin's Christmas present of snowball and snowblock makers, those that weren't settled in for our warm winter's naps (in other words, everyone over two) hiked in waist-deep snow to the backyard and had a battle more of fluff than of substance.  (I snapped less snowballs than I did photos, but still felt good about the effort it took just to make it to the war-zone because I knew it was working off some of the amazingly yummy home-made Spicy Orange Chicken I had scarfed down the night before.)

As we've had a major Wii-athon (Hee, Hee. . . if you have little boys, you know what I'm thinking and why I'm laughing!  Just admit it!!! Everyone running cross-legged to the bathroom, taking their turn and then gluggling down more water and rushing to the back of the line.  My sophistication is ruined!  Ruined, I tell you!), Eric and I can't help agreeing that having six kids nine and under has its perks when all of the stuff your kids get just adds to your own holiday fun.  Thanks,Grandpa Rex, for the stellar gift!

The Weather Outside is Frightful

Before
After

Peter thought that it would bring a thrill to toddle through the snow for a few minutes. His walking though a winter wonderland lasted about thirty seconds before he was begging to come back inside.  Poor guy had his first taste of snow-induced prinkly hands and the howling lasted fifty times longer than the actual fun in the snow.  (I love how in the "After" close-up you can not only see the slow roll of a tear down his cheek, but also the remnants of lunch and a smattering of scribble from his encounter with a pen.)

Christmas Eve Wishes

You can bet your stocking that the little elf got everything she asked for on Christmas!

On the actual Christmas Eve (which is much less adorable than the personified version that lives at our house), we regaled on our traditional Euro-fare of leek and potato potage, grilled sausage, cheese (those both stinky and non-stinky), and bubbly cider.  Peter got toddler-drunk on the sugary stuff and wouldn't stop asking for more until we had gone through THREE bottles!  We put Marie up on the  buffet and couldn't tell where the sausage ended and she began!

O Christmas Treat. . I mean, Tree. . .

We went on our annual Christmas Tree Hunt for FHE, fighting off the bitter Rexburg wind and snow as we trudged up mountainous terrain, lugging our freshly sharpened axe and our trusty rope to find our one true and living Idaho d'Evegnee Family Christmas Tree!  Okay. . . that's a slight hint at hyperbole.  Just take away the fighting and the trudging and the lugging and add a warm greenhouse, gallons of hot chocolate and piles of candy canes and you'll have it just about right.  We drank enough cocoa to help justify the outrageous cost of our fresh pine, and letting the kids run around in circles around the choice of trees, fueled by their sugar high is cute enough to motivate us to come back each year to the same little Idahoan nursery.  We also have a tradition of donning festive hats, which only makes the ruckus even more charmingly Dickensesque--in a Gymboree sort of way.