With our special-order Sun Prairie Grass-Fed Beef, we prepared two delicious pot roasts, using two different recipes, and homemade pumpkin pie with the last of our garden pumpkin for our Christmas Eve meal. Everyone ate it up, even picky little Riona! We then opened our presents and watched as the girls squealed over every little item. The best was when Mythili and Isabella opened their iPod with an amazed expression and Isabella said, “I’ve wanted an iPod my whole life!” which is probably, sadly, true.

The next morning, Santa brought Isabella a Barbie scooter, Mythili yet another Barbie set with formal wear for Ken and Barbie, and Riona a new train set to add on to the one we already have that she cherishes so much. The girls just LOVED their Santa presents–he somehow knew exactly what to get them! Truly magical!

We went to Grandma and Grandpa’s house for dinner, the best Christmas dinner ever–prime rib that Dad gets for free every year from his job. As usual, it was mouthwatering, and just writing about it now makes me already look forward to next year.

By the weekend, everyone was gone, and I felt like I was running a bed and breakfast, washing a million sheets–again–and cleaning up holiday remnants. After a couple of days of recovery, we celebrated Dad’s birthday with snowshoeing and cross country skiing in the mountains, then came back into town to celebrate New Year’s Eve with the Mentzers. We partied hard to bring in the new year, and the kids, as usual, had a total blast.

And here we are, MLK day, year two of us participating in the Denver Marade. I’ll say it again–I loved it last year and I loved it again. It makes this day so much more meaningful. But if you’d like to read more about what the Marade is like, check out my new writing blog: Step Write Up.

So, that is what I’ve been busy doing, in addition to working full time, running the Girl Scout troop, selling cookies, and spending quality time with three little girls every day… life is good.

Victory

I have made it to the top
I know you didn’t think I could
but I always knew
with open arms I waited for this moment
and now with a tickle
of cloud-licked wind
I have arrived

to put it all behind me would
be to forget why I came
to abandon the snow that
stung my toes as I kicked in steps
to let loose the hazardous
boulders that I had to scramble over

no, that would be betrayal
to my soul
who has waited for this moment
longer than the rest of me

so I will remember the cramped stomach,
the aching calves,
the harsh, alpine wind
that not for one moment would allow me sleep
and the longing that
carried my heels up this mountain
because without the pain

of memory,
I would never truly be able to live,
to breathe,
and from within to thrive
in this glorious moment of victory.

Bikes and Apples
or, First Loves

It is a cold ride
but an exhilarating one
while the book plays in my ear
I stop momentarily
to listen to my three-year-old
who calls to me from
the trailer
where she is tightly wrapped,
double-hooded,
and playing with her new Barbie

She never complains
and is the only one who still
basks in the glory of the ride

We pedal across town
over wooden bridges
down curvy hills
splashing in puddles
and zipping past the slow pokes

because, as Bruce says,
I ride my bike just like I drive

I try to argue that
it’s the only way to burn enough calories
that I have to beat my last time
but really, it’s the thrill
of speeding past Mr. Spandex
and hearing Riona
squeal, “Wheeeee”
all the way down the hill

And then we are surrounded by
my old neighborhood
filled with brick ranches
and tiny yards
and trees as gigantic as back east

I stop the bike and
the others meet us there
carrying fresh-baked scones
that the girls crumble and munch
as we meander amongst the white-tented stalls

and even though I am still shivering,
the sun is coming out,
I can no longer feel the wind,
and they have the
pungently sweet Swiss gourmet apples
that traveled from the western slope
and whose crisp taste
has lingered in my mouth all morning.

I buy a bag from the vender
who tells me she rode her bike here too,
knowing that soon
there will be warm pie in my oven
and three girls fighting
over who gets the last piece,
and I think, my legs
aching and hot now,
it doesn’t get any better than this.

Instead, they become thrilled with each unwrapped present. Mythili squeals with delight when she sees that Nanny sent her her favorite toy, a new set of Polly Pockets. Isabella proudly hands out presents to everyone because she “can read now, Mama!” Riona is amazed each time she discovers that more than one present is under the tree. And while the adults are busy enjoying their after-dinner wine and cleaning the kitchen, the kids relish the freedom of indirect supervision. I allow them to watch the movies they got this year–Tinker Bell, Wall-E, Garfield–and they basque in my TV-leniency. They are all thrilled to receive new games that of course they want me to play with them–a household scavenger hunt from Aunt Willow, a LeapPad card game from Nanny. They proudly adorn themselves with the new outfits and hair things from Grandma and Aunt Elizabeth. They get to stay up late, sleep in, and have a real vacation.

Our Christmas this year has been a bit crazy. While Elizabeth and Zak planned on coming around the 20th, Zak ironically had the same hernia surgery as Bruce, on the same day! So they had to delay their trip by a week. Meanwhile, Great Grandma was in town, and since Grandma and Grandpa were working, Bruce and I went up to Lafayette for a few days to take care of her during the day. Well, let me rephrase that. Bruce was still in a lot of pain and can’t lift anything over 10 pounds for 6 weeks, so it was more like me taking care of 4.5 kids (Great-Grandma counts as a full child, Bruce, in his complacent way, just as half ). I definitely have learned to appreciate everything that Bruce does for me, our kids, and our house!! After driving back and forth and carrying multiple gifts and luggage in and out, vacuuming two houses, and taking care of a gaggle of kids on my own, I’m missing my old Bruce. Only 4.5 weeks to go!

On Christmas Eve, we picked up Grandma from work, where she treated us all to lunch at LePeep. We walked around downtown for a while and then headed to our house, where Grandpa joined us, and we fixed homemade pizza. Then we opened our gifts from Mama and Daddy and Tennessee. The girls were exhausted by then and went to bed quietly, so when Santa came a short while later, they were sound asleep! Santa left a large easel for Isabella, a tabletop easel with dry erase and chalkboard for Mythili, and a rolling cart full of wood blocks for Riona. He also left some ornaments, cars, and hair things in the girls’ stockings. Then Grandpa, Grandma, and Great Grandma went home. Bruce and I barely woke up in time on Christmas morning to get the video camera ready to capture the girls’ reactions to their presents!

So Elizabeth and Zak finally arrived on Saturday, and we had a second Christmas/Dad’s birthday celebration in Lafayette on Sunday. No one was complaining! We all received some wonderful gifts, and just like the years we go to Tennessee, the girls got to have 2 Christmases! We spent the afternoon enjoying another round of the 20-pound prime rib that Grandpa got for a Christmas bonus, and then drove to see his office in Berthoud. Ironically, since this will likely be his last job, Berthoud is the town where he had one of his first jobs, and where my parents had their first house. Of course we drove by it as well, and the tree I cimbed when I was 3 was still in the front yard, as well as the wood stove my parents installed!

Yes, Christmas isn’t the same as it was when we were kids. We have to work, work, work in order to make it work for our kids and our family. But seeing the joy, the purely innocent joy, that fills my daughters’ faces as they anticipate and participate in this holiday, makes it all worthwhile. I gather their happiness bit by bit, happy that, now that it’s over, I have discovered my holiday mood. It lies within each of their smiles, giggles, and cheerful squeals. And it’s worth every bit of work.

One thing I really wanted to do this year was make Thanksgiving more authentic. When we sit down at the table tomorrow, won’t it be wonderful to know that most of the food we eat came from places only miles from here? So we’re changing it up: for the first time in my life, we won’t be eating candied yams (one of my favorites), we’re giving up the green bean casserole, and we’re not going to eat pumpkin pie from a can. I’ve been saving a couple of pie pumpkins I bought just for this occasion, and this morning I had to search the web for a recipe, because even my mom’s 50-year-old cookbook tells you to open up a can of pumpkin.

For anyone out there who thinks making a pumpkin pie from a PUMPKIN is difficult, it’s not! There were 3 extra, simple steps: cut the pumpkin in half, scoop out all the seeds (and now we have enough seeds from one pumpkin for our entire garden next year!), and place the halves in a giant pan to steam for 15 minutes. Then, scoop out the mushy pulp and puree it for about 30 seconds and you have enough pumpkin for a pie.

If I had known it would be that simple, I would have been doing this for years. Pumpkins are so easy to grow! The pumpkin that I pureed had the same consistency as the canned pumpkin, and the pie cooked as easily. I can’t wait until tomorrow. Alongside my homemade apple pie (with Colorado apples, of course), our butternut squash and apple soup, and the candied acorn squashes, I think the turkey will take second chair.

We are surrounded, all of us, by farms. Why not buy fresh, cook fresh, and feel better about what we are doing to our bodies and our world? Now THAT is something to be thankful for!