Cerebrate Good Times

Sam is really quite the negotiator, always trying to make deals with us to get what he wants. Sometimes it works, and he does something we want and gets something in return. And then there are those times that the conversations go in an unsettling direction: Me: "You need to eat your yogurt, and then you can have fruit snacks." Sam: "I won't eat the yogurt until I have my fruit snacks." Me: "How about I just put you in time out until you have the yogurt?" Sam: "Well, I'll put you in a house that's on fire!"

Sweaters are strange things. If you go to a department store in the winter, they are everywhere. But if you look at everyone on the street, the proportion of people wearing one is much smaller. I imagine we all have several sweaters that maybe get worn once a year, but we keep giving and receiving them. Where do they all go? Are they just stuffing the dresser drawers of the world? Those were my thoughts as I stood in line to exchange a sweater vest I got for Christmas. And I had a lot of time to consider the subject, as the woman in front of me exchanged several sweaters for different sweaters, which all had to be their own transaction for some reason. I guess the bottom line is, if you were an alien and wanted to take over the earth, you could do worse than somehow finding a way to involve the sweaters of the world.

We were actually going to print and mail a Christmas letter this year, but laziness won out once again. So here it is for your enjoyment. Season’s greetings to friends, family, and court-appointed investigators! To celebrate the holiday season, rather than as part of any rumored plea bargain, we decided it’s high time we inflict an annual Christmas letter on our loved ones. After all, we enjoy hearing from so many of you every year, and we rejoice in your not-at-all-suspicious good fortune, attractiveness, and ever-increasing accumulation of worldly wealth. This year has been an eventful one for the Hillers. As the year opened, Joel decided it was time to move on to another job, to better support the family and keep the lawyer on retainer. So after some months of careful planning, a few rolls of duct tape, and some surprised bank employees, we have seen our efforts bear fruit. And through some off-the-record rental agreements, we’ve been able to remain in our lovely home th...

Last week I noticed a car with a headlight out and thought to myself that of all the car woes I've had, I've never had a headlight burned out. Then the next morning I got to experience it. Life is strange.

The other day, Sam and I were in the car on the way to the store. I had music on, but it was fairly quiet and only on the front speakers, but he wanted me to turn it off. I explained to him that sometimes we just have to deal with things we don't like. A few minutes later we pulled into the parking lot, and it was packed. I was muttering about having to park really far away from the store, and Sam took the opportunity to remind me that we sometimes have to just deal with things we don't like. Yeah, I wonder if this kid will grow up to be a lawyer.

Why is it that we are willing to devote so much attention to utterly useless tasks? Last night I spent the better part of an hour trying to untangle a string of beads for the Christmas tree, when I really have no plan to put them on the tree. I could probably have found a dozen more productive things to do with my time. What pointless task have you completed lately?

I've previously chronicled my affinity for jackets. But I think it's getting more serious. I've gotten two more in just the last month. Last night I opened the coat closet and counted 14 jackets and coats just for me. Is that wrong? I mean, it's not like I'm collecting little knickknacks that serve no purpose, or anything to do with Twilight or whatever.  Don't judge me!

I think we should all get a chance to draft a law. Mine would demand the death penalty for anyone throwing cigarette butts on the ground. And if you throw it out of a moving car, you are tortured first. What would your law be?

It's odd the patterns we notice in our lives. One pattern I notice in my family is that our sleep tends to be cyclical. Sunday nights are the worst, for some reason, setting us up for an exhausted week. Then we do a little better through Thursday, and then we end up getting to bed late Friday, because we're too beat from getting the kids to bed during the week to care too much when we don't have to get up early. Anyway, as I mentioned, Sundays are the worst nights for us, which I decided again at some point last night. Here's how it went down: 8:30—Allison is asleep. Hooray! She never goes to bed that early. 9:30—Sam is asleep. Finally, a chance to get 8 hours on a work night... 10:30—Allison gets up. Katie gets up with her. 1:30—I finally realize Katie hasn't come to bed yet, and that Allison is still up. We trade off. 2:00—I get Allison to sleep and go back to bed. I toss and turn for 30 minutes or so. 2:45—Sam gets up. I go down to his room with him. 3:30—I'm...

Last night I had the good fortune to be able to attend a Jazz game with my friend Rob, who was given the tickets by someone in his ward. And I feel spoiled, because our seats were on the 7th row. It was a really fun experience, although in a way it was bad because now I'll never be satisfied with the nosebleed seats again. Thanks for ruining every game I ever go to in the future, Rob. Here's a photo to show that the players looked like people rather than ants from this distance.