{ the great tree hunt of 2010 }

So a few weeks ago, I blogged about MacGyver getting it in his head that he had to go out and cut down his own Christmas tree.

I may not have mentioned my overwhelmingly enthusiastic reaction to this plan. Believe me. I was less than thrilled.

You know. Because of the whole nature thing.

But then our friend, Monkey Tales Mama, sent us information for a "local" tree farm (meaning it was within an hour's drive, but that cell service was probably questionable).

So we planned to meet.

At 10:30am on Black Friday.

Giddy-up.

After about sixty minutes on the road, we pulled into a narrow drive, punctuated by this welcoming sign.

Neat.

Really.

The owner/proprieter/resident tree dude (we'll call him Bob) waved us on in and passed a crumpled map and a hacksaw through the window. 

No questions. No background check. Just, here's your saw, have at it, watch the ditches and the sand spurs (?!).

We pulled to the side (in front of a wood chipper suspiciously similar to what that weird guy used to mulch Steve Buscemi in Fargo) to wait for our friends, who showed up a few minutes later. Toting their own personal saw. 

We were so ill-prepared.

Then we all hopped into the bed of their pickup truck to go check out the trees.

I'm going to be honest. It's the only way to truly appreciate the whole farm atmosphere.

The thing is. I'm a Frasier Fir kind of girl. Where we live, it would seem that firs are not exactly indigenous. I agreed to have an open mind, but, as we bounced through the ditches and the dreaded sand spurs (I never did find out what those were), we realized that the spruces and cypresses weren't going to work for our copious collection of ornaments.

I am rather sure that MacGyver was disappointed.

But we enjoyed the experience nonetheless.

MonkeyTalesMama wanted to get a tree for their little one's room, so we did get to join in on the whole sawing a tree down thing.

The boys were excited. Really.

They're all "We could have had a tree by now! Let's go back to civilization!"

Or maybe they're thinking "Wheee! Dirt!" I'm really not sure.

Turtle marches with purpose. Excuse his bed head.

The money shot. Please note the awesome T-shirt (props to my friend K for finding it for me!). I like everyone to be dressed for the occasion. 

And yes. He is wearing a t-shirt and shorts. It was 80 something degrees. 

So very festive.

There was one injury sustained during the event. 

I was walking on my way to get this fantastic family shot, 

when I was stabbed in the foot by a cactus needle. I will not go off on the wrongness of having freaking cactii growing alongside the trees at a Christmas tree farm. 

Needless to say, seeing 1/2-3/4" of cactus needle under the skin of one's foot, and then having to remove said 1/2-3/4" of needle was not the highlight of my day. PS. It hurt. A lot. 

Fortunately, no tetanus shot was necessary.

Timber!

Trying his hand at sawing.

Ah. Nature.

Probably one of my favorite pictures ever. Little J hauling off his tree.

We'll continue the quest. Hopefully cactus free.

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{ thanksgiving redux }

This past Thanksgiving, we were thankful.


For sharing with friends.

For delicious food.

For beautiful music.

For partners in crime (Yes. One of them climbed up on top of the piano and got that tall glass cylinder of candy corn down).

For frogs.

In a word...

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{ pumpkin cream pie * martha stewart }

We decided we really like having the classics on Thanksgiving, but sometimes, it's ok to give a little twist.

I found this recipe for Pumpkin Cream Pie in the November 2010 issue of Martha Stewart Living (it appears on www.marthastewart.com, but without the gingersnap crust) and thought it would be a great way to change things up.

Crust:

1 1/4 cups crushed gingersnaps (about 25 cookies)

2 tbsp sugar

1 pinch salt

4 tbsp unsalted butter, melted 

1. Preheat oven to 350. Combine gingersnap crumbs, sugar and salt in a bowl. Add melted butter and and press mixture into bottom and sides of a 9" metal pie plate. 

2. Chill in fridge until set, about 15 minutes.

3. Bake for about 15 minutes, until crust is golden brown. Cool.

Filling:

2 cups whole milk

1/2 tsp vanilla extract

1/4 tsp cinnamon

1/4 tsp nutmeg

pinch of ground cloves

1/2 cup sugar

salt

4 large egg yolks

1/4 cup cornstarch

1 1/4 cups canned pumpkin

1 tbsp unsalted butter, softened

1 1/4 cups heavy cream, whipped to medium peaks

1. Bring milk, vanilla, cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, 1/4 cup sugar and a pinch of salt to a simmer in a saucepan over medium heat.

2. Whisk egg yolks with cornstarch and 1/4 cup sugar in a medium bowl.

3. Whisk about 1/2 cup milk mixtrue into yolk mixture. Gradually whisk in remaining milk mixture. Return entire mixture to saucepan. 

4. Cook over medium hit, whisking constantly until bubbling in the center, about 2 minutes.

5. Remove from heat and whisk in pumpkin. Then whisk in butter.

6. Pour into gingersnap crust, smoothing with a spatula.

7. Chill in fridge for four hours or more.

8. Top with whipped cream before serving, and garnish with cinnamon.

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{ good (turkey) gravy! }

When you have finished roasting your turkey, you're going to have a pan full of drippings.

They are going to make a fantastic gravy.

Pour the drippings into a small saucepan over low heat and blend in about 3-4 tbsp of flour, to create a roux. Also add salt and fresh ground pepper.

When the roux is nice and smooth, add about 1/2 cup chicken broth and 1/2 cup white wine or bourbon, whisking over medium heat until it combines and thickens. Bring to a simmer, while adding about 1/2 cup more of chicken broth, whisking slowly.

Reduce the heat, and melt in about 1 tbsp of unsalted butter to create a smooth finish. 

Check your seasoning, add more salt and pepper if desired and serve alongside your turkey.

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{ roasted turkey. my way. }

Turkey is my nemesis. 

I hate touching it, cleaning it... Quite frankly, I hate looking at it.

But after much research (aka, watching Food Network for hours on end), I finally perfected my turkey-roasting skills, and I'm going to share it with you.

Warning. There is some raw-poultry handling ahead. Prepare yourselves. Also, scrub your hands well periodically throughout the process, and keep your work area as clean as possible. Scrub everything down when through.

Preheat the oven to 325.

Get your roasting pan ready. You can line the bottom with foil to make cleanup easier, but I don't, because it makes collecting the drippings for gravy a little more difficult.

I stuff the cavity of the bird with the following (all rough chopped): one lemon, one lime, 1/2 orange, 1/2 granny smith apple, 1 stalk celery, red onion, garlic, fresh rosemary, fresh sage and fresh thyme.

Soften a stick of unsalted butter. Put half in a measuring cup with about 2 cups of white wine, and any rosemary, thyme or sage you may have left over.

Keep the second half to the side.

Unwrap your thawed turkey. Reach into the cavity and remove the neck and gizzards. Which should be in a bag. You can save them for stock or soup or gravy. But I don't. I am anti-innard.

Clean your turkey, inside and out, under cool water, and pat dry with paper towels. Place on roasting rack.

Stuff the cavity with fruits, veggies and herbs. You can truss the legs or some turkeys come with metal clamps that hold the legs together. That's pretty convenient, too.

Take a sharp knife and gently separate the skin from the meat along the top of the cavity. Use your hands to reach between the two and create a space. I know. It's nasty. But it's worth it.

Use that reserved 1/2 stick of butter to rub between the skin and the meat. Get as deep as you can over the breast of the turkey and over to the joints of the legs. When you've used most of the butter, slide a stem of rosemary under the skin on each side of the breast, and then massage the skin thoroughly with the rest of the butter.

Sprinkle with pepper, salt and paprika.

Your bird should look like this.

For a 15lb turkey, such as this, you want to roast for about 4 hours at 325 (there's probably a handy chart on the wrapping that came on your turkey - use that and a meat thermometer - you'll want the temperature to be about 180*F when inserted at the joint of the leg). 

I baste. Every 40 minutes. I use that leftover butter and wine and herb combo, and use a pastry brush to spread it all over the exposed skin. 

You can tent the turkey with foil with about an hour left to cook, if you choose. I didn't.

She turned out beautifully. 

And ridiculously moist. 

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{ thankful }

Happy Thanksgiving!

I'll make this brief - I know you are putting up to your elbows in turkey, as I'm about to be.

From our family to yours. Have a wonderful, joyous and safe Thanksgiving. 

Enjoy your holiday and we'll see you back here, next week!

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{ say it with chalk }

When we bought our house, it was a new build so we got to customize a lot of things: faucets, appliances, flooring, placement of electrical outlets (which is about when MacGyver checked out of the conversation and curled up in fetal position).

We all know developers charge top dollar for their materials, so we tried to look at the big picture. 

For example. We really wanted hardwood floors, something that I cannot do myself. Those we ordered through our builder. However, paneled interior doors? Yeah, we could get those at about a fourth of the price through our local Home Depot, so bring on the cheap, unpaneled ones. Bam.

Of course, we haven't gotten around to replacing all fifteen doors quite yet, which is ok and certainly not on any priority list (See, MacGyver? I don't embark on my home improvement projects all willy nilly! I have a list!)

But the double kitchen pantry doors had been grating on my last nerve. 

For one, despite the fact that I love our pantry, there was just way too much whiteness.

For two, the pantry doors are probably among the most touched doors in the house. By me, while cooking. By MacGyver and Turtle while foraging for snacks. By the pugs, while nosing for treats. Which means that the doors was forever covered in finger and nose prints.

Effectively, driving me batty.

Lucky for us, though, I scour a lot of blogs. I had seen this idea for a magnetized chalkboard wall on Lil Blue Boo, and had been looking for a way to implement it.

The pantry doors? Perfect. 

MacGyver was hesitant. He had questions like:

• Why would you want to do that?
• Why would anyone want to do that?
• Why are you going to Home Depot?
• I thought we decided people didn't do that?
• Honey?
• You're doing this now?

So, under the banner of his optimism, I trotted off to the Depot and picked up a can of tintable, Rustoleum chalkboard paint. In latte (they have 12 great colors!)

There was a lot of babble about painting with a certain nap of roller and curing and whatnot, so it took me a few days to get going. I wanted to be in the right frame of mind to do the project correctly.

My window came when I left the can of paint on the washing machine, which needs to be balanced, which caused the can to go flying off during a particularly violent spin cycle, colliding with the tile floor and bursting open. Options were few: toss the can and pick up new, or start painting at warp speed.

I went with painting.

Two coats and three days of curing later, we had beautiful latte doors.

On which I can write our weekly menu. And this week, our Thanksgiving menu. And notes to MacGyver, including when we have to leave the house for certain events. And Turtle can draw on it - the kid just loves artwork. 

It was super easy and I love the way it looks. It's also soooo convenient. And no more finger (or nose) prints!

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{ it's that time of year again. holiday cards. }

Now that Thanksgiving is almost here, it's probably about that time to start thinking about (drumroll, please). 

Holiday cards.

I think it's safe to say we all know the agony of getting that perfect picture, where everyone is looking at the camera with sweet expressions, so that we can plug it into just the right template to send out to our friends and loved ones.

You know. Pictures that look nothing like this.

But we we do get that perfect photo, my first stop for cards is Shutterfly.

I have been a loyal Shutterfly customer for years. Whether prints or cards or calendars, I have turned to them first. And I've always been pleased. With the prices, the shipping and turnaround, the quality and the customer service.

I also love the fact that they run plenty of promotions and offer great discounts, so ordering is always easy and economical. It's what keeps me coming back, time and time again.

I'm a little torn on what to order from this year's holiday card collection.

I adore the color combination on Season Chic 2010.

The simple elegance of the Snowflake Damask.

But who can resist the fun vibe of this Brightly Merrily Holiday Card?

It's a pickle.

I'm also checking out some of Shutterfly's great new calendar designs, for our personal use and to give as gifts.

Keeping track of your important dates has never been so beautiful, and I am loving the new graphics Shutterfly is offering.

I'm pretty excited to get our "perfect pictures" together to start placing my order.

What Shutterfly design is right for your "perfect pics?"  

* Disclaimer *

This is a compensated review. 

I will receive a credit for 50 Shutterfly holiday cards in exchange for this post.

However, I am a regular Shutterfly customer and do purchase prints, calendars and cards from Shutterfly.com

For more information and promotion details, click here.

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{ respect the turkey }

I am holding on by a thread.

There are four days to go. 

Four more days to focus on menus, and the perfect turkey, and what kind of wine to serve with my brie.

Four more days of the smells of pumpkin and harvest. For scarecrows and gourds and sheaves of wheat.

Or whatever you call those things of wheat.

Four more days of fall holidays.

And then? 

Then it is Game On.

Normally, I have no problem waiting. For me, Christmas season doesn't really open until I see Santa Claus riding on his float at the Macy's Day Parade.

Because the 34th Street Macy's Santa is the real Santa. When he shows up, the season is here.

For some reason, this year? I'm having a tough time restraining myself.

Not that I'm not looking forward to spending three days agonizing over my pie crusts and appetizer selection. Not that I don't live for shoving my hand in the cavity of a turkey to clean it and stuff it with aromatics (cue the famous Raw Poultry Face). 

But I just want to start the countdown to December 25 and all the joy that comes with it.

I've already read How the Grinch Stole Christmas to Turtle as a bedtime story.

I'm setting out little pieces of decor that I think I can get away with prior to Thanksgiving.

I purchased four rolls of perfectly coordinating wrapping paper, because I have this weird glitch where I believe we should each have our own specific paper. I blame Martha Stewart for that, too.

I actually (and this one is bad), indulged an internal debate about getting an artificial Christmas tree so that we could put it up earlier. I had solid reasons, including A) the longer the tree is up, the more time I have to practice photographing the lights at night and B) the branches will be super sturdy for some of our larger ornaments.

I barely know myself.

And it's stupid. I know better than to rush my days. I'm pretty against doing it. 

Carpe diem and all.

So just four more days.

I can hold out for that.

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{ showers of sugar & spice }

On Sunday, I was honored to attend a baby shower for our dear friends T & K, in honor of their new little girl, due to join us sometime in January. 

L threw the most beautiful Sugar & Spice themed party. Every detail was perfect.

I have to share some of these shots with you. There was so much love here.

Congratulations! Wishing you and your little one all the love and happiness in the world!

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{ joy is... }

Swinging on a tire for the very first time with a friend.

Or running like the wind. With a marshmallow clutched tightly in your hand for later.

I love how some of the littlest things can bring the greatest joy. 

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{ a boy's best friend }

Turtle has a special place in his heart for Miss Molly.

Don't get me wrong. He loves the boys.

But Oscar is older and has a hard time getting around. And Bentley... how shall I say this... Bentley's a lunatic. So there's that.

Turtle requests that Molly come upstairs at night while he gets his shower. And recently, he has been asking for her to sit in bed with him while we read his stories before he goes to sleep.

The other night, he went one step farther. 

He laid down on his pillow (which he never does). He pulled his blanket up over him (which he also never does). And then he said "Molly, come lay down with Turtle." 

Ok. He doesn't call himself Turtle. That's just what I'm saying for purposes of the blog. But he does refer to himself in third person. 

What happened next will go down in the Official Annals of Cuteness.

Molly, who is part-cat and barely tolerates anything, deigned to respond to his little hand patting on the mattress and cuddled up close. She even suffered to have her picture taken in the pose. 

She'll never admit it, but I think she has a soft spot for the kid.

So do I.

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{ another friend-ly weekend }

We had a celebrity sighting at our house this weekend!

No, really!

Dana, of Morning Star Loft fame, and her equally awesome husband stayed with us! All. Weekend. Long!

November is a month of being thankful. And right now, I would like to say how thankful we are for such amazing and incredible friends.

We took advantage of the crisp fall weather to light up the fire pit out back and make s'mores

I like lots of marshmallows. :)

We watched lots of NCAA football, during which our beloved Miami Hurricanes ROCKED Georgia Tech (without Jacory Harris) and some other teams in Florida did some stuff (or didn't, as the case may be). I have to mention that because our guests represented both the Gators and the Noles. 

We love them anyway.

Then it was downtown to admire the historical sights. 

We had no idea there was some kind of pirate convention going on. We always miss the fun stuff.

But we went to the local haunted tavern.

And looked at the moon.

Seriously. These two could be models. Can't you see them in like a JCrew catalog?

Things get a little blurry when MacGyver takes the camera, but that's ok.

Outside one of the prettiest cafes.

I have no idea why we're all wearing long sleeves and jackets and MacGyver is in shorts and a t-shirt. These are not the questions I ask anymore. Incidentally, if the house temperature drops below 76, he is putting on socks and hooded sweatshirts. Now you know.

It was a wonderful visit, full of conversation and laughter and cocktails. We already miss them dreadfully, but we'll see them soon!

Thanks for visiting!


PS - Also thank for Cesar Milan-ing Bentley. No, I don't know if it's a word. He's been on his best behavior ever since. If he starts to get out of line, I'm just going to pretend to call you, much like one pretends to call Santa when one's child starts to cut up during the holidays. It's a great plan. Lots of love!!!

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{ here we go again }

Shockingly, yet ANOTHER controversial article has been written by yet ANOTHER writer regarding the subject of mothering.

And the internet is in an uproar.

I'm stunned. Really.

I tend not to get involved. Mostly because I really can't get myself riled up over someone's opinion which I take with a huge grain of salt. Just like I take every other opinion that has ever been published on this and any other subject.

Because you know what they say about opinions. They're like belly buttons. Everyone has one.

I'm not saying Erica Jong is a belly button. I certainly don't know her personally, and I'm really not familiar with her other published work, so I can't make a fair assessment either way.

What I am saying is that it seems like, in her world, she has come across women who are struggling. Who do feel like prisoners. Who do hold celebrities up as standards for ideal motherhood. And she doesn't seem to like what she sees.

Which tends to be a reasonable reaction. I don't like to see the people in my life flounder. I tend to love the people in my life. I want them as happy as possible. And when those people suffer, I do try to help, if I can.

It also makes me sad. Parenthood is a beautiful, precious thing. It should be cherished and treasured and enjoyed. It's heartbreaking to think that there are mothers and fathers out there who feel trapped and stuck.

Mothers and fathers and children are all individual beings. To suggest that there is a one-size-fits-all manual that will definitively work (or not work) for everyone is absurd. To believe that every parent is going to tick in one particular way is silly. To think that every family dynamic is identical, or even close, is naive.

But it's ok to be different. It's good to embrace our individuality and be ourselves. Isn't that what we've been told from Day 1? Isn't that what we tell our kids? Why should this time of parenting be any different?

So I'm saying it again. Follow the tenets of Dr. Sears. Or Dr. Spock (preferably the human one seeing as how Vulcans aren't known for their parental instincts). Heck, follow Dr. Seuss. Mix and match. Make your own path.

Just do your best.

We're all going to screw up. We're all going to make mistakes. I can tell you, as a self-professed perfectionist overachiever with 33 29 years experience, there are not enough hours in the day to be the perfect parent all the time. It's ok. I promise. 

We're all going to have good days and bad days. In light of that, it's important to remember just to keep your babies loved and fed and safe. That's what they need most and is what's most important.

If you're feeling like a prisoner, start digging because it's time to escape. If you're content with how things are going, then don't worry about making changes. 

Be supportive of the moms and dads you know. It's ok for us to disagree on philosophies. It's not ok for us to judge someone who does it differently from us. I know I don't like it when someone looks down her nose at me. I wouldn't want to be responsible for that in another person.

If you see a parent in trouble, give them a smile. A kind word of support. Such a small thing that can make all the difference in the world to someone having a no good, terrible day.

I'm putting my soapbox away until after the holidays. Unless something really major comes up, of course.

I want to focus on family and turkey and gratitude and Christmas trees.

Who's with me?

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{ so i made this cake }

Conveniently, it's Wordless Wednesday, so I don't have to come up with much to say. 

Since I was out late with the girls last night playing trivia and wishing a friend from one of my mom's groups goodbye before she moves.

By the way? We totally kicked arse with our team, and won first place (and a $40 giftcard for the bar/restaurant hosting trivia). 

And if I was a good blogger, I would have had my post for Wednesday written two weeks ago. But I'm not. So I didn't.

Instead, I will show you the cake I made for some cutie-pie's first birthday party.

Wordlessly.

The end.

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{ the great sleep project and falling back }

Turtle's claim to fame at the tender age of two and a half is that he is a champion sleeper. He is in bed by 6:30, up at 7, and still takes a nap that lasts anywhere from two to four hours.

However. Things have changed. Just a little.

I'm not sure if it's potty training (which has been progressing marvelously), or if the stars are aligned against us.

But Turtle has been waking up at night. He will tell us he has to go potty. Which is good.

And then he tells us he wants to come to bed with us. 

Which is okay.

And then, while MacGyver collapses into his state of deep sleep, I am left sharing my third of the bed with a toddler and two pugs, none of whom want to actually just sleep.

Which is very, very bad.

It's been making me a little cranky. You know. Because I'm not getting much sleep.

I try to justify it. By telling myself he's not going to be itty bitty tolerant of snuggles forever. That I should treasure the late night cuddles. And I do. I swear.

I just also treasure more than three hours of uninterrupted slumber.

I did not have particularly high hopes when we embarked on our little road trip this weekend. Our friend offered us a pack-n-play (ha. ha. ha.) and a twin aerobed for Turtle's sleeping pleasure.

We chose the aerobed.

And he seemed to like it. Really.

Our first night there, Friday, he only woke up once and MacGyver cajoled him into staying on the mattress.

Saturday night, we were really fighting the odds. 

After all, he had been up all day, tailgating, rocking out at a football game, without naps and overwhelmed by hours of crisp, fresh air. Oh. And it was Daylight Savings Time.

We like to toe the line on the edge of sanity.

He woke up at 8pm, two hours after going down. Inconsolable. So I brought him downstairs to where the adults were watching more NCAA action and he fell asleep on my lap. (Melt).

We got him back in the aerobed a few hours later, and then he woke up again, begging to come to bed with us.

Fine.

And then he had to potty.

Great.

As we were tiptoeing back into the guest room from the bathroom, Turtle pointed to the aerobed and said "How bout THAT bed, Mommy?" And hopped right in.

Yes, Turtle. How BOUT that bed? Genius, really, that you should think of it. Because, honestly, sweet boy? Mommy was truly enjoying balancing on 3" of mattress with one hand on the floor to keep from falling, with your leg slung over her back. It was a highlight. Thank goodness you discovered another way.

I really don't know where he gets the energy to keep going.

In other news, he adjusted quite fine to the time change, even if I'm not reaping the benefits of the extra hour of sleep.

Incidentally, the pugs are NOT doing so well with the whole falling back thing. Apparently, I will have to work on time-telling with them, because they are laboring under the delusion that dinner time should be at 12:30pm as opposed to 3pm.

Never a dull moment.

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{ so proud }

Remember how it was our anniversary?

And how we're so totally romantic and lovey-dovey?

So you know we had an absurdly sweet weekend planned, all rose petals and heart-shaped boxes of truffles and flutes of champagne.

If by rose petals you mean rally towels and by truffles you mean $5 arepas and by champagne you mean bottles of beer. 

At 10:30 am.

Because tailgate rules applied.

That's right, kids.

We took Turtle on a whirlwind road trip to the south. We stayed with one of my college roommates and her husband and sweet little boy. 

And then, to celebrate four years of wedded bliss, we took our pride and joy to his very first Miami Hurricanes football game.

Hopefully, the first of many.

As a devoted UM alum (by which I mean I graduated, paid off the entirety of my student loan, and no longer laugh out loud when I get requests for donations), it was a proud, proud day.

We got to the Sun Life Stadium at around 10am, scoring the most amazing parking spot. Which is key to the enjoyment of any sporting event.

You will notice we are sporting jeans and short sleeves. Well. Except for MacGyver, who refuses to wear long pants in any temperature exceeding zero Farhenheit. I assure you. It was chilly. Jackets came out not soon after. 

But it was real football weather and there was much rejoicing.

I am honored to count these two women among my closest and dearest friends.

And Turtle fell in love with tailgating. 

Chips. Dip. Cheese. Crackers. These are a few of his favorite things.

I left my big lens in the car, so this is not the greatest shot of the tunnel. Whatever. I still had chills when the team came charging out.

Dear Miami Fans. Represent more. Please and thank you.

Turtle lasted the entire game. I was prepared to leave at any time, but he settled down with a tub of popcorn and a few bites of my arepa (Note to self: Orange Bowl arepas are a superior product to Sun Life arepas. Sadly, the upstanding quality of Sun Life restrooms more than compensates for the disappointment.) and hung in there.

He threw up his arms and yelled touchdown!

We taught him De-FENSE! And the appropriate usage of SACK!

He learned some more colorful phrases from the educationally-minded people sitting behind us. They were oh, so helpful. Thanks, guys. Yeah. I'm talking to you, Older Dude with Scraggly Soul Patch and Mustache and Drinking Horn Who Probably Doesn't Read My Blog. 

And, despite the shoddy special teams actions and heart-stopping last seconds, WE WON!!!!

I hope we will be able to continue this tradition at least once a year. It was such an awesome thing to be able to share with our little man.

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