Pikkujoulu

I flat out refused to say the prayer.  Desi looked at me a little shocked and I said to Adam, "No.  Because I'll cry."

Why can't that guy give me a break?

He had Mark, who has ice water in his veins, say the prayer.

It was a lovely and festive time.

In the afternoon, the kids and I finally decorated the big tree.  Did I get a picture of everyone in front of the tree like I wanted to?  No.  I didn't.

I did take a picture of the table though, because setting the table is my favorite part.

rosemary sprigs in the napkin rings--they delighted me

We had our traditional feast of clam chowder in bread bowls and fruit and cheese.

Emma was ready and willing to pose for pictures:

I wanted to take one of Emma and Mark together.

I said, "OK, now I want a nice one."

Emma was slightly offended. "I was looking nice."

Mark said, "I wasn't."

(By the way, I deemed no pjs for pj--pikkujoulu.  So Mark wore his uniform, a white t shirt and sweatpants.  So basically pajamas.)

Then he smiled for the camera.

Braeden took a picture of Adam and me and we look sort of goofy but we also were laughing.

Adam is my favorite and no one makes me laugh like he does, although our kids are pretty expert at it.  He got that apron before any of our kids were born when he worked for the Animal Science department at BYU.  It's an institution around here.

We read Christmas stories (and I pulled out my new reading glasses because that's the world I live in now).  I had Mark read the story that would make me cry.

We exchanged gifts with Braeden and Anna, who will be in Virginia for Christmas, and we gave the kids their ornaments.

Adam did his Christmas reading from the Bible and Book of Mormon which is as much an institution as that apron.  He usually reads it on Christmas Eve but I requested it last night too.  Maybe he can do both.

Here's what I love:  Christmas and traditions and my people.