Making a list, checking it twice...

As the New Year fast approaches, I often catch myself undergoing brief moments of self-evaluation. What is it about me that makes me me? And should I be ok with those things, or really reach deep down and make an effort to change them? Here are some of the questions that have been running through my mind:

Is it bad that my daughter came home from school with a wrapped handmade gift which I automatically assumed was the inevitable "mom" present, and when I went to sentimentally place it under the tree with eyes brimming, she said, "Hey, that's a picture frame I made with a picture of me in it, and I'm giving it to my friend Jenna!"?

Is it bad that I have never sent out a Christmas card/letter, and I might never send one out?

Is it bad that I made a renewed effort to start exercising again, went running around my neighborhood twice, then swore it off? (In my defense, it was pretty bad timing to pick up outdoor running in mid-November.)

Is it bad that sometimes when someone in my family is talking to me, I am just thinking about the plot of Alias, and where could they possibly be hiding Vaughn, and how is Irina connected?

Is it bad that I want "Soft A Blossom Falls" played and/or sung at my funeral? I just love the song--I'm not trying to make a statement about my physical appearance.

Is it bad that I think about funerals and people dying, hoping to avoid such tragedy by doing so?

Is it bad that Mila's teacher had to lecture me on how Mila probably shouldn't be eating the school snow because there are two different kinds of chemicals on the ground?

Is it bad that everyone in my ward's favorite hobbies are scrapbooking, cooking, and exercise, and mine are Tivoing, acting, and eating?

Is it bad that my family is well aware and publicly documents that my favorite hobby is eating? (http://www.cannonbaheclan.blogspot.com/)

Is it bad that I want people to go visit the above blog because it's all about me, and I'm starved for attention? (At least I'm honest.)

Is it bad that as I'm writing this blog, I'm arguing with Mila about how writing this is much more important than playing Polly Pockets with her?

And last of all...

Is it bad that it's December 16 and I'm on Mosiah 7?

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!

It has been snowing all morning. And not like lame, wimpy snow. We're talking heavy-duty, white-out, I can't see my neighbor's car, blizzard. It is awesomely gorgeous. So can you tell I love snow? What I'm looking at outside my window right now has to be the prettiest sight I've seen since about two months ago, when I looked out and saw nothing but red trees all over the mountains. Seasons, you gotta love them! I want to cry for my family and friends in California, Arizona and Texas, who have two seasons year round: really hot and sorta hot, and who have to throw on their coats when it's 65 degrees out. I just feel for them, for what they're missing out on. My Burbank-native sister Jacqui has never even seen snow! I just shed a special tear for her. I mean, in four months, I'll probably be changing my mind again when all of the trees and flowers are in full bloom, but for today, the snow has my vote all the way. Here are some of the reasons why snow holds such a special place in my heart:

**Mila fills our backyard with "snow angels," or as I like to call them, "butt angels," because when I look out the window all I can really see are little bum indentations everywhere.

**In what other kind of weather, tell me, do you hear the following squeals from your children as you're driving to school: "AAAH, we're going to be buried alive---eeeek!" and "WHOAAAAA! There are ghosts everywhere, Mommy!" and my favorite--"Oh my gosh, Mom, I don't even want to think about what a crazy time recess is going to be today!!" Do you get to hear those gems when it's sunny? I don't think so.

**Three words: Hot chocolate, Baby!

**I get to call my friend (who shall remain nameless so as to protect her "cool person" status) on the phone first thing in the morning and give her a giddy, giggly update of our snowfall, and then continue those updates throughout the day.

**Do not even tell me there is anything more beautiful to look at this time of year than the snow-covered mountains of Utah county. Just stop trying to think of something--why waste your time?

**My children, who have come to earth with some sort of magical tastebuds in their little mouths, eat snow as if it's some kind of delicacy that is not to be missed. They eat so much with so much rapture, that sometimes I begin to think that the stuff is full of mysterious healthy nutrients that they live off for the rest of the year. That just has to be the case, because they certainly don't eat anything I put in front of them. So I guess we should just start calling it manna from heaven around here.

**I can't go anywhere. There are lots of days I don't go anywhere all day but it's ten times more fun when you can't physically GO anywhere. I'm just dying for someone to call me on the phone and invite me to something so I can say, "Oh, I'd love to, that sounds fun, but I'm all snowed in!"

**Aah, the memories. The peaceful, muffled quiet after a snowfall. The hours we spent in our backyard in Denver tunneling and making snowball fight forts and snowmen. Going tubing and wondering on the way down the hill if this was the end. Then going right back up the hill to do it again. The frozen fingers and toes that didn't seem so bad back then. Ignoring those appendages so you could stay out just five more minutes. The feeling of a warm mug between those thawing fingers. Bliss.

Well, it's been snowing for four hours straight now. Give me a call if you want--I'll be home all day!!!

Shout out to the fam

Yeah, so have I ever mentioned that I come from an incredibly talented family? There's this seventeen-year old rocker chick named Maryn Jones who happens to have this cool band and who happens to be my baby sister. Go here to see/hear what I'm talking about.

And I should mention that my sister Brinna sang as an opening act for the one and only Bob Newhart.

Both Brinna and my ever youthful mom, Shawn, sing in smokin' cover and tribute bands, performing gigs all over the east coast.

My brother Clayton's musical highlights have spanned everything from flying across a stage as Michael in Peter Pan at age eight to working as a professional studio vocalist to kicking some major behind in All-State choir in high school. Last time I checked, he dreamed of being a high school choir director. He'd make a darn good one.

When my dad plays guitar and sings "The Birthday of a King" or that one shepherd boy song, it might just be the prettiest thing I've ever heard.

So my family rocks the music world. That's all I'm sayin'.