Happy 8th Birthday, Luke!

I can remember the events of Luke's entrance into the world like it happened yesterday.  So many miracles brought this wonderful human into our family and I love him like crazy.  Eight is truly going to be great for Luke.  He has grown leaps and bounds this year as I have watched him emerge out of his shell around others and taken more of a proactive role at home.  He shares more, he is learning to stand up for himself, and to talk when something is bothering him.  Luke walks down the halls at school and everyone says hi to him.  He is happy. He loves to play the piano.  He loves to laugh and could run and play any sport all day long.  He loves to help me in the kitchen and comes up with all sorts of creations--and I love having his company...that's usually when we chat about life. 

In fact, he woke up today, November 26, 2018, and had a fever.  So he got to hang out with me all day.  A bummer to be sick on your birthday, BUT, that meant that he could help me make his cake JUST the way he wanted. 

So, after opening up all of his presents before everyone went to school...nice and early...

And having some yummy Swedish pancakes, per Luke's request...

(We had a few others who were happy with the choice as well)

 We got to make his cake together.  

A brownie cake with vanilla and chocolate frosting.  

He new exactly what he wanted.  

Homemade mac 'n cheese for dinner

 And finally getting to blow out the candles on the cake that he worked so hard on.

WE LOVE YOU SO MUCH, LUKE!  

Birthday Party and Baptism in the next few weeks.  We are so excited for you!

Happy Thanksgiving!!!

I know I say this every year that we have lived outside of the US, but I feel I have to say it again.  It's a normal week for the rest of the world and that makes me sad!!! The kids have school and Joe has work all week long.  So it's a little hard to get the buildup of the holiday spirit, but we do the best we can.  I have such vivid memories of the week of Thanksgiving as Mom prepped and cooked and the house looked beautiful and smelled even better.  She would always have the Macy's parade on and Christmas music going in the background...that feeling of family together just makes my whole insides light up...  

So, I blast the Christmas music, even though none of our decor is up yet and it's just Mack and me dancing to the music, and I try to put out of my mind the huge TO DO list for the next few weekends in a row.  It's time to just be grateful.  

Oh and celebrating on Thursday is always out BTW, because no one has time that night, so we celebrate on Friday.  

Let's talk turkey for a second.  These birds are hard to find in Switzerland!  I had to special order mine from a farm in France.  It was a 16 lb turkey and ended up costing well over $100.  Yep!  BUT, I have to say, I don't think I have EVER had a fresher turkey in my life.  The man who delivered it to my door looked like he had just prepped and plucked the bird hours before.  It came covered with pink paper and in an open cardboard box that smelled just like the farm.  The box wreaked!!!  Chicken, turkey, whatever kind of feather farm it is... they just smell so bad.  I struggle.  We always used to have to drive by a chicken farm on the way to the beautiful Berryhill Ranch.  I'd hold my breath and drive as fast as I could down that country road before I would attempt to suck in some fresh oxygen!

 Anyway, thankfully it was cold enough outside to keep the bird and the smelly box fresh until I could do something with it.  Here's me as I was getting ready to do something with it:

 

 Haha!  I opened the paper up and there were still feathers that needed plucking.  Now, to preface this, I have been known to use my dental gloves on occasion in my past, when dealing with raw meat.  I know.  Call me a wimp.  Mom always laughed at me.  But sometimes it just grosses me out.  I've come A LONG WAY since then, but this still was a little rough for me.  I had to take a deep breath and just go for it ;)  

 Along with the rest of the food I was cooking, I couldn't leave out my grandma, Tutu's, Crown Rolls!  Those are a family tradition and favorite.  YUM!!!

 Joe is always a trooper.  He jumps right in and helps me out with the not-so-desirable tasks that could potentially require my gloves. Oh, and he always carves the meat.  And over the years, has done a fabulous job with the presentation!  Momo would be so proud!  I should have taken a picture of it.  Darn!  Well,  the bird was ready, the rest of the food was on the table, now we just needed our guests!  

Oh!  And Super Mack.  His debut was fabulous...I had never seen Super Mack and those stellar moves before, but I loved every second of it!

We invited the Nordstrom and Lucas families for Thanksgiving.  And everyone was in the same boat.  Rushing home from work and school stuff in order to celebrate.  

So our party began around 7:30pm.

 (Just because it never really looks this clean)

We were so happy to celebrate with our friends...who appreciate good food as much as we do!!! The fact that we all wanted to make all of our own favorite Thanksgiving foods so we could all have our own leftovers for the weekend, sounded just perfect to me ;)  Not having our own families around to celebrate, equated to trying to make it feel as much like "at home" as possible, and that meant all of those perfect recipes.  

As we filled our plates with our favorite tastes, I could hear, "Now which gravy is ours?" and "Are these your sweet potatoes, Mom?"  Yes, each of us even made our own special and equally delicious gravy.  So, the fact that we all got to eat our favorite foods AND enjoy one another's company was all the sweeter.  

Someone might have eaten just a little too much.  Heehee.  I don't blame her.  It was the best turkey I have ever tasted.  I guess plucking a few feathers was definitely worth it.  

Happy Thanksgiving from Basel, Switzerland!  

I am sure grateful for this wonderful family of mine!  Love them with all of my heart.

And...more humility

To say I'm looking forward to 2 hour church come January is an understatement.  Don't get me wrong, I love going to church and worshipping my Savior, and partaking of the Sacrament each week so I can start fresh yet again.  I have for 40 years... except when I was around 5 years old and requested that going fishing was a much better activity than being all cooped up in the chapel ;)

This past Sunday was another winner in my book.  There is always so much to do and so much to remember as we are trying to get out of the door on Sunday mornings.  Pack my Sunday lesson stuff for Young Women's and the snacks to go along with it;  grab the church bag and makes sure there are FRESH snacks (not months old ones) and a sippy cup for Mack; diapers and wipes; this past Sunday, I had to remember to bring items for the missionaries serving around the world from our ward, because we would be sending off packages to them for Christmas; make sure the boys are prepared for what they have going on in Primary; make sure the boys have their church shoes on and not their tennis shoes;  find belts; help gel hair; check if teeth are brushed;  ooh!  and run back in to get the Christmas cards for the Young Women to sign for those missionary packages....etc....etc... 

you get the picture.  

We also have to leave early because Joe has to sit up on the stand.  AND, our chapel doesn't have any parking, so we have to find parking on the street, or park in the hospital garage and walk a good ways to get to church.  Not that big of a deal, but when you have 40 bags and you've decided to wear high heels that day, it's a bit of a drag.  Especially when it's raining.  

Anyway, I was feeling pretty good about Sunday.  I had most everything put together the night before and just had to grab a few things the morning of.  We piled into the car and drove close to the chapel, to find zero parking spaces.  "Go ahead and go in, Joe," I said, as everyone poured out of the car.  I knew he had to be there early, so I said I would drive around and find a space.  I casually did so.  Found a spot, walked in and started saying hello to people.  I put all of our things in the pew that we would sit in and then went back to put some of the items I had brought in the missionary boxes.  I went and got translation headsets for us so we could understand what was being said, and finally, sat down.  Making sure that all of the kids were settled and ready to be quiet.  

Just as I saw the bishop get up to welcome everyone to church, I realized with terror that there hadn't been any prelude music.  It was quiet.  My eyes got big and my mouth fell open.  The bishop began to welcome everyone and I looked at him and mouthed, "Am I supposed to be playing the organ today?!!!!"  He gave me a quick nod and I dropped Mack's toys (so thankful Kate took over Mack duty without even a hiccup) and I bolted up to the organ bench.  

It's a new organ.  Remember, I don't really play the organ?  So I had all of these instructions in my own hymnal on how to turn the organ on and what buttons to push to make sure it sounds right for prelude music and for the Sacrament hymns.  At this point, I was panicked and couldn't even remember how to turn the instrument on, because all I could think of was, "I don't have my book!  I didn't practice!  I have no idea what songs we are singing!"  Oh ya.  I can sight read pretty well, but not when I open up to the first hymn and look at the title and it's in German.  My friend, Blanche, was up near the organ, and thank goodness she came over and turned in on and pushed the right buttons for me.  What a lifesaver.  

The opening hymn was... I hadn't a clue.  Couldn't read the title.  So, I blindly began to sight read.  Butchered the timing of the first stanza all 3 times we sang it.  Then for the Sacrament hymn, I had calmed down and began to play, only to hear the conductor turn to me and say, "Wrong song!  It's on the next page."  Yep.  Thankfully there was a musical number in between the talks and then I nailed the final hymn.  "Families Can Be Together Forever."  Phew!  An easy one.

It was awesome.  The Berryhill Circus continues.  Joe had just returned from Tokyo the day before and didn't look at the schedule-- all he knew was that he didn't need to conduct the meeting.  I got my days mixed up and didn't even check. 

But the good news is, that with each "winner," my embarrassment becomes less and less. I didn't even sweat this time or get itchy armpits! "That was rough," was all I could say, and I genuinely felt it, but didn't beat myself up. Yay for me being nice to me.   At least Mack wasn't running up the aisle to the stand (to Joe) this time with 2 forks in his hands that he had found in the kitchen, after escaping our grasp.  That was one that I wish to never repeat.  Here's to being more organized sometime in my future...

Mack's Learning How to Hang with the Big Kids

And it's the cutest thing ever.  

He wants to be involved in all aspects of Kate, Jake and Luke's lives. 

 From snuggling in THEIR beds (and sometimes falling asleep) or HIS...

 ...to appreciating a good frozen yogurt date on Kate's day off of school...

 ...to donning mom's old dental hygiene protective eyewear at times just to let us know he is totally capable...

 ...to FINALLY getting accepted as a tried and true teammate, as they figured out the best way to take down the other crew.

 Laser Tag is serious stuff... Despite the hysterical screams and elephant feet running all throughout the house!  

Humility. It's good for us.

Today began like most other days.  Kate ran to catch the tram and the boys and I loaded in the car so we could drop Joe off at the bottom of the hill, and we could head on to school.  Mack and I returned home to clean up, do some dishes, read a few books, watch a little Paw Patrol (his favorite) while I showered, and then we were off to do some recycling, drop off some shirts at the dry cleaners, and then head to the doctor to get my bum knee checked out.  

As we left my appointment, I thought I'd run to the store to grab a few things before Jake and Luke's friends came over to play this afternoon... I filled our bags and Mack ate his way through the store...a soft pretzel, some yogurt, a spinach pastry...all the while, waving at people and saying, "heyyo one people!!!" 

As I made my way back to the meat section, I thought of my conversation last night with Jen, and decided I needed to make some of Nana's homemade meatballs again.  This always brings me just a touch of anxiety, because this means that I have to actually go to the butcher at the store and TALK to him.  Nana's recipe calls for a little veal mixed in with the rest of the meat.  Now, I can find all of the other meat I need, on my own.  But the veal--I have to ask for.  So, I took a deep breath and grabbed my google translate so I could remember how to say veal in German.  

I have been taking German lessons 2x a week for 90 minutes each for the last few months.  And I'd say I'm at about a level that equates to Mack's 2 year old level of English.  I rarely have a clue what people say to me when they respond back to my questions...but if I'm face to face, then I can sometimes figure out what they are trying to tell me.  Hence, my anxiety.  Why are everyday tasks so complicated by language barriers?!!!!!!!  

I took a deep breath, remembered that veal was "Kalbfleisch" and I also remembered that google translate doesn't do a great job of how to ask for GROUND veal.  So, I went and got a package of ground beef, knowing that I could point and be ok.  I went to the counter and asked in my best German if they had veal.  The man said "Ja," and I did a little celebration dance inside that he understood me.  Then I pointed to the package of ground beef that I had in my hand and explained with plenty of hand motions that I wanted the veal like that.  Ground.  Another "Ja."  And another squeal of excitement within.  Then I could only guess that he would ask how much I needed.  Which was indeed, his question.  I'm still not good in kg's.  I know this about myself.  And I don't know how to speak in numbers that are less than zero!  But alas, I had thought about this all before heading to the counter, so, I grabbed the ground beef and looked at the weight and said to the butcher, 

"Punkt drei kilograms, Bitte."  Point 3 kg.  (Because, by the way, every butcher I have talked to does not speak English.  And so I sat back and smiled.  I didn't really need that much.  In fact, maybe a quarter of that for 1 batch of meatballs.  But maybe I would make a double batch and freeze the rest, I thought as I waited.  Mack and I watched as he grabbed a huge piece and started to clean it and cut it to prepare to be ground.  It was taking him a while, so I turned to help Mack with some of his snacks and when I turned back around, in horror, I realized he had ground 3 KILOS of veal for me.  Not 0.3 kilos.  Oh ya.  120 Swiss Francs and 3 KILOS of ground veal later, I left the counter.  I didn't have the vocabulary to explain our misunderstanding, and I wasn't about to hand back all of that meat after all of the time he took to prepare it for me.  

I was thrown back to the time in Santiago when I was feeling comfortable enough in Spanish to brave things like the phone and drive-throughs.  The kids had wanted a McDonald's McFlurry.  I drove up to the speaker and ordered 3 of them... when I got to the window to pay and pick up, they handed me 8 Sprites.  Oh ya.  

And so, my daily tasks still take bravery, humility, extra brain power and a lot of humiliation.  It's no wonder I am not as efficient in life as I'd like to be!!! At least I don't have to go back to the butcher  for a REALLY LONG TIME...