Happy, Like, New Year. Totally.

Back from our beautiful hometown in San Diego with a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to one and all! So after the Christmas story has been read and the gifts have been shared, what do we do? Well, our little family tends to go freeze ourselves--usually in the Pacific Ocean. But since it was supposedly snowing just up the hill in the one-stop-sign-having, totally gorgeous country town of Julian, we headed east instead.


Jae had never been in snow before, and it might have been alright, if it hadn't been raining; although I'm thinking the jacket that left his arms sticking out 180 degrees and wearing gloves for the first time in his life didn't add to his sense of enjoyment. Suffice to say, we drove an hour up the hill to slosh in the wet snow for 5 minutes, throw 10 snowballs, and then turn around again. So in Jae's book, I'm thinking snow is currently ranked at: not so much.

The BEACH, on the other hand...I think our whole family is in agreement:If we could somehow get away with living in a hut/tent/sleeping bag/whatever on the beach, we would so be there.

Now, for those of you unfamiliar with San Diego ocean temperatures, it's cold. Here's some perspective: you know that swimming pool in your local gym? I'm guessing it's about 82-84 degrees. Cuz those water aerobics ladies like it that way. It gets any colder, most aren't getting in. Now if you hop in a pool with that initial chill factor that makes you gasp a second, but then you warm up as soon as you start going? That's about 78 degrees. Note the difference here: almost bathwater at 84, gasp to get in at 78. San Diego water temps? Low 60's typically. When we went, it was 56 degrees. Did that stop Jae? NO! He heads in at a run, pulling us along after him and is soaking head to toe within seconds. My feet are actually aching with the cold and he's pulling me in deeper. Can't touch? That doesn't matter to him. Can't swim? Who cares? Seriously, no fear. Well, eventually we all joined in the fun, diving underwater, soaking head to toe. The only people out there without wetsuits. Exhilerating. Freezing. Absolutely crazy. I love it. Me and my beach boys.

Bedtime Blues

I'm the first to admit when it comes to bedtime, we are uncannily lucky. We have the most bizarre child. First night home, he sleeps 5 hours, eats, then sleeps another 3 hours. That's the pattern for 3 weeks. Then he sleeps 8 hours a night. After a few months we're up to 10 or 11 hours.


Now he's 2. Bedtime routine? Read a story, scriptures, sing a song (while rocking in a blanket), say a prayer (I'll tell you about those another time), say "Goodnight Jae. I love you." That's followed by Jae: "Goodnight, Mom. Goodnight, Dad. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you...." (all with different inflections). We leave the room. He stays in bed. He may not SLEEP right at that moment. He may talk and sing to himself for 2 hours. But he'll stay there.

I know. Weird, right?

So imagine my confusion tonight: We ask what song he wants to sing. He says "Jesus!" We sing "I'm Trying to Be Like Jesus." But all through the song, he keeps asking, "Jesus? Jesus?" So we sing one he knows the words to: "Jesus Once was a Little Child." We get ready to pray, but he keeps returning to the blanket, crying, and saying "Jesus?" I put him in bed and say goodnight, and he whimpers in a voice to break your heart, "Jesus?" So we sit in the rocking chair and sing "Away in a Manger" after which he happily climbs into bed.


So apparently "Away in a Manger" is the only acceptable song about Jesus.