This year, we had a quiet--and delightful--New Year's Eve.  

Upstairs, Jess had some friends over and they all Hung Out, watching movies and eating junk food.

Downstairs, Brad and the boys played a raging game of Monopoly and ate junk food while I read my book on the couch.

 These guys played a very hot game, with Adam finally winning, minutes before midnight.

Brad invited me to play, so I wouldn't feel left out.  The conversation went something like this:

Brad:  Do you want to play Monopoly with us?

Jill:  No thanks.  I'll just read my book.

Brad:  But, we don't want you to be bored.

Jill:  So, we're in agreement, then.

This is what I did instead:

 In my opinion, waaaaaaaaaaaay better than Monopoly.

Happy New Year!

 Brad's Happy Place.

I am a failure as a Mormon Woman.

I honestly, honestly cannot make Jell-O.

I made this today because the missionaries were coming for dinner, and I thought Jell-O would be a nice side dish for the succulent pot roast I envisioned.  I remember as a kid, we'd all come home from church and be greeted by the smell of my mom's pot roast that had been cooking while we were gone.  It was The Best Smell In The World.  Mom's roasts were always juicy and fall-aparty, and so, so good.  And, there was usually a yummy Jell-O something that we'd have to keep the gravy from touching on our plate.  It was Sunday Dinner Perfection.

Well, the Jell-O travesty pictured above was what I had to compliment the dry, grey, flavorless roast that I pulled out of my crock pot tonight at 6:00 PM.  I couldn't even take this orange mess out of the fridge. I don't know what all that white stuff is, but it has the consistency of chewing gum.  The outside edges are hard, and the center is soupy.  The poor missionaries already had to choke down the rubbery roast beef--there was no way I could subject them to the Jell-O-like substance that I created.

The thing is, I have NEVER been able to make Jell-O.  It's not like this is a one-time fluke.  I promise I always follow the directions TO A T on the box, but it never works for me.  

NEVER.

I think is why I have been called to Primary.  Word has spread of my Jell-O Deficiency, and I've finally--rightly--been kicked out of Relief Society.  I'm simply not worthy to sit next to all the Jell-O Gurus of the World.

 I just had to get a photo of our Little Snapper.

Lukie has taught himself how to snap, and he does it constantly.  We can always hear him coming--the pitter patter of snaps accompanies his every move.  This is him watching cartoons.  He doesn't even stop the snaps for Tom and Jerry.

I have something to confess.

My name is Jill, and I am a Story Junkie.

I simply HAVE TO have a story in my head all the time.  I'm not kidding.  I really need it.  I ALWAYS have a book I am reading or a TV series I am obsessed with.  I will even read dumb books or watch mediocre TV just to feed my addiction.  I'm not proud of it, but there it is.

So, when I come across something Good, something Really Good, my joy knows no bounds.  I am like a drug addict on a raging high.  Such has been my status for the last two days.

The reason:

 I luh-uh-uh-uh-uuuuvved this book!

I have read Kate Morton before, so I knew it was going to be good, but this is my favorite of her books by far.  I will not tell you why, because I want you to read it and have the same pleasure of discovery that I had.

When I Google-searched images for the book, I also found this book cover, which I rather prefer to the one on my copy:

 Just looking at this makes me all a-tingle!

Whichever cover you find, please read this book.  I promise you won't regret it.

 Although, like all good highs, it is murder when it ends.  Having just finished this book, I am experiencing a serious low.  That's the only problem with reading something Really Good--when I'm done, I want to keep reading, but I don't want to read anything else.

For Christmas this year, my parents gave me a Bissell sweeper, which is something I've wanted for years.  My sister Jodi had one when we both lived in Michigan, and I've had Sweeper Envy ever since.

It is just a little rechargeable sweeper that takes the place of sweeping with a broom.  It is super light and quiet and with a zzzzt zzzzt, your floor is clean (no, I am not being paid to endorse it--I just really think it's cool).

And while I'll think it is the coolest thing since refriderator-friendly Diet Coke 12-packs (whoa, right?), Joey feels very differently about my Bissell.

He is scared to death of it.

Which, of course, means we must chase him around the house with it.

We really can't help it--the need to tease is in our DNA.  I blame my mother.

Merry Christmas!

We have had a most delightful day, and I hope the same is true for y'all.

We started out with a new tradition, which will hereafter be called the Bitner Christmas Cry.  Instead of giving gifts to each other, we tried something new this year.  We all wrote something that we love and/or admire about each other, and before we opened gifts this morning, we read them out loud.  I don't need to tell you this got the tears flowing, although I would like to point out that Brad was the first to choke up.  

After gifts, we had a nice breakfast and set up the Bitner Weird Food Buffet.

  This just sits on the counter all day and we graze.  Best tradition ever.

We even had a Texas Christmas miracle:

  No, your eyes do not deceive you--that is actual snow.  This is the first--and hopefully the last--snow of the year.

This afternoon, Brad, Jess, and I went to see Les Miserables.  So very, very, very good.  Except for Russell Crowe, it was perfect.  We came home and promptly downloaded the music.  I used to listen to a cassette tape of the original Broadway cast on my sweet sound system in my sweet 1983 Toyota Corolla (The Rocket), but it has been years since I've heard the music. 

Today, I was still able to sing along to almost every song in my head though.  I'm pretty sure my fellow Texas drivers will get to watch me belt "I Dreamed a Dream" on my way to and from Walmart in the coming weeks.  I'll probably have to pull over, though, since just typing the title to that song makes me tear up after watching Anne Hathaway sing it today in the movie.  So yes, I'll be the 40-something soccer mom in the red Durango channeling a 19th century French prostitute on death's door while my Great Value ice cream melts in the back.  Because that's how I roll.

 Tonight, our home teacher invited us over to their house for pie and a live nativity.  The missionaries were there, too, and we had a great time together. (BTW - those rolls of batting on the left were the shepherd's sheep.  When I saw that, I knew my hometeacher's wife was Good People.)

Afterwards, we came home and opened the Christmas jams my mom made for the kids.  

 This picture puts Jessica squarely on the naughty list.

 4th Advent Sunday.  Christmas is officially upon us.

You can see that I have replaced my bird's nest wreath.  This one is better, other than that it threatens to catch fire every Sunday, adding an element of danger that keeps us all on our toes.  This Sunday's virtue is peace. When we went around the table sharing what brings us peace in our lives, I thought about saying something about the fire extinguisher in the pantry.

 This Christmas has been brought to you by Amazon.com.

 Christmas vacation slugs...er, reindeer.

 After months of waiting, today we finally welcomed our new couch into our home.  We ordered this back in September, but there were delays due to fabric shortages, etc, so it took longer than we expected for this baby to appear in our living room.  

It reclines.  It was worth the wait.

Normally, I am not a fan of those Elf-On-A-Shelf dolls--you know, the ones that parents buy and move around every night, telling their kids it is Santa's elf spying on them.  That's just one more thing I'd forget about, and frankly, I don't need any more Mommy Guilt.

But, my cousin Kelly (who is one of the cleverest people I know) posted this picture of their Elf, Noll, on Facebook and it cracked me up.

Apparently Noll was getting his flirt on in the pantry.  I especially love the blond Barbie's feet in his lap (what a tramp).  Kelly's sister Jill commented that the Ritz box seems strangely appropriate for this setting, too.  All in all, the smugly wicked gleam in Noll's eyes says it all.

Here's hoping your Christmas is as Merry as Noll's!

There will be no photo today, because today is all about what I'm NOT doing.

Tonight I have a meeting with the out-going Primary president in our ward.  I was sustained as the new Primary president on Sunday, so after tonight, when she will officially pass the reins to me, I expect to be thinking Primary in all my waking hours.

But, today, right now, that hasn't happened yet.  I am still blissfully unaware of any upcoming baptisms, teacher issues, events that need planning, and troublesome kids that can't be reverent. 

Today is also the last day my kids are in school before Christmas break starts tomorrow.  So, I have the house all to myself until 3:00 when the kids start coming home and I have to fix dinner before heading off to the Primary meeting.

 I intend to spend every minute up until then enjoying my last day of Guilt-free Jill Time.  The beds will not get made, the laundry will not get done, the floors will not get vacuumed, and the breakfast dishes will probably sit on the counter until tonight.  Instead, I will sit here at my computer working on a personal project that I love doing. 

So, don't call me today.  I won't answer.

There are plenty of things I've done in my life that I wish I hadn't, so occasionally it is nice to find something I've done that I'm really glad I did.

One such thing is the name we gave Adam when he was born.

When I was pregnant with Adam and we found out he was going to be a boy, I talked about naming him Luke, a name I've always liked.  But, I found that every time I thought about this little guy who was coming, I wanted to call him Adam.  I told this to Brad one night in bed, and he jumped all over it, saying we could name him Adam James after his Grandpa Herndon (his first name was James).  As soon as he said it, we both knew it was the right name for our boy.

About a week before Adam was born, we were visiting Grandpa Herndon on a Sunday night, which we did almost every week.  We were sitting in his little living room when I asked Grandpa if it would be okay with him for us to give our baby his name.  He choked up a little, smiled his shy Grandpa Herndon smile, and said something along the lines of "that's the most okay thing I've ever heard" in his quiet, raspy voice.

A couple of months later, when we blessed Adam, Grandpa Herndon was there, and he stood to bear his testimony in our sacrament meeting.  He introduced himself to our ward as the James that Adam James had been named for, and then bore his testimony, which he read from notes he had prepared before.  Later, I asked him if I could have a copy of his testimony to give to Adam some day.

Grandpa Herndon with Adam James on his blessing day.

Today, I was thinking back on that, and I remembered that I still have that copy of Grandpa's testimony.  I haven't looked at it since he gave it to me almost twelve years ago, so I dug it out just for fun.

I had remembered that it was written in Grandpa's handwriting, but you can see that he actually typed it up.  Although, it is probably accurate to say that typewriting WAS Grandpa Herndon's handwriting.  You can see that he also typed the note to me on the pink post-it.

Grandpa Herndon died in his sleep about a year after he gave me this testimony.  But, I think of him every time I hear or write Adam's full name.  I am so glad my son bears his name.

We miss and love you, GP H.

Yesterday I spent the day at Six Flags, so I didn't make it to the grocery store to buy anything for Sunday dinner.  I figured it wouldn't kill us to eat cereal for one Sunday.

But then, at church, we ran into the missionaries and learned that their dinner appointment for today had cancelled.  We have a standing agreement with the missionaries that if they ever have a blank spot in their dinner calendar, they are to let us know and we will have them over--no matter what.

So, after church, we came home and searched the kitchen for something--anything--we could throw together for dinner.  We came up with a bag of frozen fajita meat, rice, and canned corn.

Luckily, Elder Ford and Elder Young are very good sports.  We love these guys, so it was totally worth the scrambling to spend the evening with them.

Before they came over, I told Brad and the kids not to take too much meat so we'd have enough for everyone.  After dinner--and seconds--there was still meat in the pan.  I consider this our very own Loaves and Fishes moment.  Apparently, the Savior can work miracles with Tyson frozen fajita meat, too.

Today, we spent our day at Six Flags, where Adam's school choir did a little show.

I have decided that the Six Flags people are brilliant.  Today, the park was packed and nearly every group we saw as we fought the crowds included some kid in his or her choir t-shirt.  Clearly, Six Flags invites local schools to come sing here in December, which the kids think is the coolest thing ever, and their parents end up having to buy tickets for the whole family to come watch Junior sing Jingle Bells.  Essentially, Six Flags ends up with bumper crowds in December, with free entertainment that the patrons all had to pay for to make it happen.  See--Brilliant.  I lump this into the same category as school pictures.  And sports team pictures, which I just paid $16.95 for this morning.  

I am so on to these companies who know how to get money out of me so I don't feel like a bad parent--yet, I still dish out the dough.

Oh well.  We had fun.

 When we unpacked the stockings this year, we found this old stocking that said "JOY" across the top.  Jess had the brilliant idea to add an 'E' and make it a stocking for Joey.

So now, we are not only the family that hangs a stocking for their dog, but we are also the family that personalizes said stocking with a Sharpie.

You know, classy.

 This is my view every weekday morning from 6:00 until 6:45 AM.  It is the back entrance to our church, where Jessica has early morning seminary.  I drive her there, then sit in my car while she has class.

And, this is what I do as I wait.  I read my book, drink an ice cold Diet Coke (yes, at 6 AM - don't judge me), and listen to the radio.  It is actually quite delightful.  Knowing I can do this for 45 minutes makes it easy for me to drag my hiney out of bed at 5:45.

There are a couple of other seminary parents who also spend the time in their cars in the parking lot, but they appear to sleep.  I usually can't see them until they spring their seats up at 6:45 when their child opens the car door and the overhead light comes on.  There seems to be an unspoken rule that none of the pajama-clad parents look at or acknowledge each other at this ungodly hour.  It's really better that way.

This morning, I flipped on the Today Show while I was folding some laundry, and I lucked into seeing this interview with some of the cast of Downton Abbey, which, of course, I love.

I have no idea what anyone talked about, because I got so distracted by the guy in the blue sweater, whom I did not recognize.  At first, I thought he must be a new character they are introducing in season 3, but then I remembered I have already seen season 3, and I still didn't know who he is.

Finally the chick doing the interview mentioned that he is the guy who plays Thomas, who is pure evil on the show.  I was seriously amazed. 

This is what he looks like on Downton Abbey:

 

 See--pure evil.

Maybe it was absence of the tuxedo and severe part in his hair, or maybe it was just that he actually had a pleasant look on his face, but I honestly did not know it was the same guy.  I am ashamed to call myself a fan.

I've been wanting to snap a family picture for our Christmas cards this year, but somehow I forget to do it when we are all together.  Tonight, I was doing the dishes and Adam was changing to go to basketball, when I remembered and frantically gathered everyone into the living room to take a picture before some of us had to leave.

I put the camera on the shelf (crooked, apparently) and set the timer.  Then, we all stood staring at the blinking green light while I yelled "smile" and "look at the camera" over and over.

Joey did not understand the directions.  Neither did Adam or Luke.

Another attempt.  Luke, you are so hilarious.

I am posting these here, because they will NOT be on our Christmas cards this year.  Nobody wants to see this.

These pictures will heretofore be known as the As-Is Christmas Photos.

Merry As-Is Christmas.

 Tonight was Adam's choir Christmas concert, which was a huge deal to him.  He auditioned for a solo, and won one of the elf parts in their Polar Express medley, so that's why he gets to wear the cool hat.  

Adam seriously blows me away.  I wish I had half of his self-confidence.

(Again, this picture was not actually taken on the day of its post.  I was too sad by Brad's parents leaving to remember to snap a photo.  And, I took a killer nap.)

Here we are decorating the Christmas tree on Friday night.  Our ward missionaries came to dinner that night, then they helped us assemble the tree.  Our ward elders are serious cutie-patooties, so after they left, there was much holiday cheer at our house (*wink* Jessica), which resulted in the kids getting everything decorated and ready for Christmas.

Tonight, Brad and I were invited to his boss's house for an executive Christmas party.  I'm not going to lie--I was pretty grumpy that I had to go.  We'd planned on going to a rodeo with Brad's parents, and I was seriously disappointed that I had to miss out on that.

So, while Brad and I hobnobbed with the yuckity-yucks, Mark and Lois were at the rodeo with our kids whoopin' it up.

I would much rather sit in a stadium seat, surrounded by loudspeaker country music and the smell of manure, than make polite conversation over a catered dinner any day.

Before my shopping trip yesterday, I was Toms-less, which Lois found astounding.  Thanks to her loving guidance, however, I now own my first pair of Toms. 

*wipes tear of joy and appreciation*

Both Lois and I wore our saucy red Toms today.  When she appeared in hers, she told me that she gets a compliment on them every time she wears them.  Today was no exception.  At Target, where Lois was helping me buy a Christmas tree, a saleslady commented on our matching red Toms. 

 The Toms Magic is real, people.

Brad's parents arrived last night for a visit, so today I got to hang out with my awesome mother-in-law while Brad and his dad went golfing.

Hanging out with Lois means shopping, so I googled a nearby mall (left to my own devices, I'm not a big shopper) and we gave it a go.

Susanne and Denise, this one's for you.

Tonight for dinner, we returned to Babe's.

 Yep, fried chicken and chicken-fried-steak--still good!

Okay, so this photo was taken on the morning of December 6--please don't fire me from my blog.  Technically, St. Nicholas did his thing on December 5, so I think it counts.

Happy St. Nicholas Day!!

(um...tomorrow...)

When we moved to Germany three and a half years ago, I left all of our Christmas decorations in Michigan in storage.  My plan was that if we didn't have our tired, old Christmas stuff, I would be forced to buy cool, new German stuff (it was actually quite brilliant, if I do say so myself).

Well, I got a lot of flack from my family on our first German Christmas, because there were a couple of key things they really missed from our old Christmas bins.  One was their stockings--I really should have known better--but the other thing was this stupid chalkboard I bought at a dollar store that counts down until Christmas.

This was the first thing the kids looked for when we pulled out our old Christmas bins, and they promptly hung it up with much enthusiasm.

Now, it has returned to its rightful place, and all is right in our Christmas world.

Yesterday was Brad's and my 18th wedding anniversary, so tonight the two of us ditched the kids and went out to dinner to celebrate.

We went to Babe's, a legendary restaurant around here.  It is just as fancy as it looks in the picture.  It is also awesome.

There aren't any menus, because they only serve two things: fried chicken or chicken fried steak.  With that, they bring all-you-can-eat mashed potatoes, gravy, biscuits, salad, and corn.  You can see that Brad and I both got the chicken fried steak.  It was huge.  And awesome.

This picture was hanging on the wall above our table.  I loved it for two reasons: 1) because someone thought they were so cute to slam Genyne for being old, and 2) because there was actually a waitress named Genyne--spelled G-E-N-Y-N-E.  It just doesn't get any better than that.

Basically, I loved everything about tonight because I was out alone with my favorite person in the whole world, celebrating the fact that we've been together for 18 years.

I was wrong before.  It doesn't get any better than that.

 First Advent Sunday.

One thing we will always take away from Germany is their Christmas traditions.  We really loved Christmas in Germany.  One of the traditions we liked the most was the Advent Wreath, with candles that you light on each of the four Sundays before Christmas.

It's not easy to find Advent Wreaths around here, so I had to make my own.  I'm not gonna lie - it's lame.  I used a grapevine wreath and white candles, which makes it look like a bird's nest in the middle of the table.  My mission this week to look online and see if I can find something a little less wild-lifey.

Remember last Spring when I posted post after post about my boys playing baseball?

(Oooh, and remember when I saw Jon Bon Jovi at the ballpark?  A moment of silence please. . . )

(. . . sorry, still thinking about it . . .)

(Okay *mops brow*)

Well, now it is basketball season, so prepare yourselves for post after post about Adam playing basketball.

I like this shot because it looks like Adam is doing a swell, sasshaying dance move.

Sadly, Adam's team lost--the score was A Lot to Not Very Much--but Adam did score a basket, which means he gets a donut, as per the policy Brad's mom established when Brad played basketball as a kid.

(and now, let's go back to thinking about Jon Bon Jovi . . .)

You know all those annoying people from Texas who are always going on and on about how great their state is?

Well, this is why:

 It's the last day of November, and nearly 80 degrees.

You can't argue with that.