Back in the saddle

 We now have 8 am church.  It's dreamy to the 10th degree.  Saturday nights are different now; we spend them ironing shirts and packing church bags instead of watching movies, but the late night work is worth the peacefulness of an entire Sunday at home starting at 11 am.  Oh how blissful it is!

Last Sunday was my favorite so far this year.  We didn't have any evening meetings and the entire day was ours.

Church was fantastic mostly because I spent it in primary and taught Colby's class.

His class is full of 7 year old cuties all getting ready to be baptised.  Our lesson was on heaven and how we made the choice there to come to this earth and follow Heavenly Father's plan.

At the end of class, I had the kids draw a picture of what they thought Heaven would look like.  

This is Colby with Jesus.  Cute stuff.

(I secretly LOVE primary and wish I spent more time there.)

Another huge reason church was wonderful was because of Carter.

He taught me this week about testimonies.

We have gone over in FHE many times about what a real testimony of the gospel is and isn't.

Testimonies are about our knowledge and feelings about Jesus Christ, the restoration of the gospel through the prophet Joseph Smith, and the truthfulness of the Book of Mormon.  

They aren't the time for public thank-amonies, I love u-amonies, travel logs or story times.  

Carter has wanted to bear his testimony quite often in church lately, and as I think this is wonderful, whenever one of my children walk up to the pulpit- I must admit I get SO nervous.  I hesitate in letting my children go up too often.   It gives me stress.  (There needs to be time for other people…right?)  

Well, as Carter stood up on Sunday I almost asked him to sit down because he had bore his testimony the month prior.  My whole body got hot and I didn't want him to get up.  (I'm horrible and I fully admit it.)   Steve could see my hesitation and calmly put his arm on mine and stopped me.

Carter got up and bore his heartfelt testimony of the gospel...

word for word as he had written and practiced it before he got up.

Steve had seen what he had been doing and handed me this paper as Carter walked up to the pulpit.

Um…yes I was humbled.

Yes, I felt sheepish.

Yes, I felt love and gratitude for a son who taught me about testimonies.

After church around 12 pm our neighbors showed up with a HUGE plate of french toast made with cinnamon bread covered in buttermilk syrup and fresh strawberries.  My children and husband were like ravenous wolves.  The toast didn't have a chance for survival.   We love our neighbors and their generosity with their gluten products….we REALLY love them. 

Even though my family was stuffed with gluten already, I continued with my plan to make rolls.  I had asked Steve earlier in the week what he wanted to eat during the super bowl and he said cinnamon rolls.

It felt wonderful to get out the bread mixer and cloth and get my hands covered in dough again.  It has been a while since I made rolls our cinnamon rolls.

Even though I can't eat it, I want my children to still know how to make homemade bread.   Its a skill that needs to be passed on.

I'm happy to say that I still have it.  

I slathered these babies in frosting and my family was in a super gluten sugar coma.

Life is delicious.

We returned the french toast favor and dropped of a half dozen to the neighbors.  Calories LOVE company.

 The rest of the week hasn't been so delicious, but it has been fun.

I'm doing what I do best and that is stay home and keep things running.

This is the weekend laundry.  Just 3 days worth.

Saylor is more excited about it than me.

I tried to explain dirty underwear to her, but she didn't care.

Grady tried on his first pair of shoes this week…and hates them.

They lasted all but five minutes.

Just so you know Grady Paul, once you start walking, you're going to need those things.

Now for stories without pictures…

Steve took Carter Colby and Saylor to Pomerelle yesterday with my dad.  Pomerelle got 11 inches of snow the day before and had 6 inches drop while they were there.  They were in powder heaven (or hell if you are me).   Steve said he hasn't skied in that much snow since high school.  It was a once in a decade kind of snow conditions.  Steve put the kids in lessons so he could ski a few powder runs without kids and then spent the rest of the day mostly on Milk run with Saylor.  He came home beaming on how well his kids are taking to skiing.  They are all progressing well and I'm sure most of them have passed up me in their ability.  (not too hard to do)  Steve even called Colby a 'powder hound'.    Steve is excited to take Andrew back to Pomerelle on Saturday.   Those two are going to come home SO sore.  

Steve's favorite story of the day was when Saylor closed he eyes while skiing and exclaimed how she couldn't see Steve anymore all the while laughing down the hill.  Silly girl.

Andrew is growing out of clothes (again) and this morning officially handed down one of his sweatshirts to me.  "Here Mom, you can have this, it doesn't fit anymore." 

I'm sure he won't hand down anything else after he sees me actually wearing his old clothes!

This morning Saylor talked non-stop about how she was going to make a beach in our house this summer.  I'm not sure how this is going to work, but she had the rules for the beach all planned out.  

They were and I quote…

No Crying.

No Whining.

No Kindles or Screens.

No Barfing.

No Farting.

No Fighting or Naughty Kids.

She then said, "It's my beach and I made the decision."

I will admit, I kind of like her rules, but I will have to add a rule of my own.  

No sand or water in the house. 

 It's going to be a boring, but very quiet beach.