



My parents with two-thirds of their grandkids
To my knowledge, there's only one decent sledding area in all of our elavationally challenged town. Olivia and I, and what seemed like most of the denizens of our community, made our way to the snowcapped mini-peaks, where we spent an afternoon racing down the hills and avoiding those doing the same thing.
In the morning hours so early that the tree still glowed warmly, both of our children awoke to find an assortment of presents awaiting them. Olivia got the one thing she desired most – Kit Kittredge, an American Girl doll – and Reed got his first choice, a wooden-blocks set that comes on a cart with which he can practice standing up.Santa Worship from chris k on Vimeo.

We were joined again this year by G and Liz in the unhanging of stockings and unwrapping of presents, a tradition we’ve enhanced by our quick transition to the preparing and consuming of Christmas nachos.
Take a close look at the snack above. Baby Mum-Mums? Made by a company named Hot Kid? Rice rusks? HACCP certified? Upon further inspection, you’ll discover that these snacks are made in China. Nothing suspicious so far. Seems like the perfect choice for a baby starting on solids – right?Snack Stand from chris k on Vimeo.
My eco-minded dad, hugging the tree he planted and dedicated to my mom while working as a United Nations Volunteer
My dad just returned from another international assignment with the United Nations Volunteers (UNV) program, which he got involved with four years ago after being excised unceremoniously from corporate life. He turned lemons into four work stints away – to Vietnam, Kazakhstan, Indonesia, and most recently, Thailand – and a gig teaching Japanese at a local university. When I talked to my dad, he told me that he’s retiring from his overseas work assignments (although he did leave open a door by mentioning Michael Jordan and his “retirements”), which got me thinking about how nice it must be for him to leave on his own terms, especially since he was disallowed such a choice before.
Crafty means to be deceitful, but craft-y…replete-ful: Mommy has been busier than Santa’s elves in getting the house ready for the holidays. She’s filled our home with decorations galore, including ones she’s crafted by hand. Olivia’s been captivated by this year’s creation, a lovely Advent calendar, born a simple clipboard, that’s perched high above a baby’s standing reach.
The presents-worthy members of our families – Eric and I apparently are hard to shop for, not that I’d use this blog as a forum to publicly complain about this bit of injustice – got together for a picture to commemorate our annual holiday gift exchange and dinner. In all seriousness, we’re thankful for the gift of friendship that Penny and Eric have bestowed upon us, not just last night but over the years.
For service today, the youthful congregants of the UU put on a play about Befana, the Christmas witch of Italian lore. Reed watched from his perch in the Baby Bjorn (a baby carrier of Swedish lore) while his sister and her friends played their role of non-speaking cats. The production was bellissimo.
The little guy donned his jersey to get in line for Invictus, where he was joined by my wife, who seems overly enthused about a rugby movie. (Oh, what’s that? It features a buffed-up Matt Damon? Seriously now, I don’t know what that guy has going for him besides his movie-star looks, keen intellect, wry sense of humor, political highmindedness, and adorable family.)
‘Tis also the season for eating in excess. We’re part of what seems to be a dozen or so cookie exchanges, where you trade in all of your self-respect and self-control for several dozen or so holiday cookies. (Not that I’m complaining.) Olivia, A.J., and Madison got the ovens warmed up during a bake date last weekend.


With the standing comes some falling over, usually back on his derrière or off to the side, but when the opportunity arises, he’ll topple headlong into our loving arms or a bin full of toys.
Today is my mom’s birthday. I raise a glass of cabernet sauvignon to her on this day, for she gave me life and guidance as to how to best live it.
We celebrated her special day a week early when we made the trip to my parents’ home in Michigan the day after Thanksgiving. Happy birthday, Grandma Randi (aka G.R., her nom de gâteau when we run out of space on the cookie cake)!
OK are the initials of our daughter's first and last names. Reed is the name of Olivia's younger brother.