It's Christmastime in the City

City sidewalks, busy sidewalks
Dressed in holiday style.
In the air there's a feeling of Christmas.

Children laughing, people passing
Meeting smile after smile
And on ev'ry street corner you'll hear,

Silver bells, silver bells
It's Christmas time in the city.
Ring-a-ling, hear them sing.
Soon it will be Christmas day.

I am a true holiday queen. I love to do all the little things that make holidays special, and although I am not a gourmet chef, treat maker, and craft connoisseur like my sister Angie, I really look forward to my Charlie Brown attempts at honoring Christmas. I am fortunate to be married to a guy who likes Christmas and humors me in my attempts; however, we all know that Thaus Amonett is no fan of outdoor treks, especially if they involve him putting on socks and shoes. So, for a week or two prior to Thanksgiving, I gently prepped and reminded him that we were due for our annual sojourn to visit Salt Lake City's version of Bethlehem meets the 21st century.

Coordinating holiday events is a joint effort in our house since the squares on our December calendar seem to fill up like a hit-and-run. Even though I bought an oversized calendar this year, the squares still aren't large enough to hold all our holiday engagements! With Thaus working two jobs and me juggling work, kids, and charity events, I anticipate a nervous breakdown hitting me mid-December so we better pack the good stuff in quick! We decided to hit the lights on opening weekend, and I am so glad we did because I would now be forced to sing Little Jack Frost Get Lost instead of the nostalgic Silver Bells, which is so much more fitting for an evening stroll through the city.



The lights of Vegas have nothing on the splendor and grandeur of Salt Lake City. With the snow-covered mountains as a backdrop, the lights of the city truly do glisten in the moonlit night. The air is crisp and a chill nips at our nose, yet the spiritual glow from the temple provides an inner tingling and warmth.





As you can see, wrestling Xavier to the ground for "a happy, smiling, we-love-it-when-Mom-makes-us-stop-every-fifteen-feet-for-a-picture" was an exercise in stress management. I skillfully maneuvered my arms around him a time or two, but the slippery little guy wrangled his way out of every hold. He wanted to experience the lights in X-vision (running free to touch and see without any parental units cramping his style).


In the upper right photo, my profile looks a lot like my mother. It kind of freaks me out a bit when I see it.



Xavier was fascinated by one of the nativity displays. He was pointing and squealing with delight. As a mother, I live to hear that little boy's laugh. His excitement is tangible in my world.



When we returned home, I went to take a shower while Thaus was in charge of making hot chocolate for everyone. When I returned to the happy gathering, this is what I found:


We no longer question why boys have mothers. Daddy's leash just got a little shorter...