Merry Christmas, the Ash Connection way

I didn't want to seem like such a scrooge after that last post, so I want to now sincerely wish you all a very merry Christmas by giving you the best e-gift I could think of — another double dose of Annacdotes. Thanks for humoring me (if, in fact, you humored me . . . instead of vowing to never read these again). 

Happy Holidays, everyone.

1. On the way home from church, Anna showed us a CTR sticker she got in Primary. When my sister asked if she knew what CTR means, Anna said, "Yeah! Choose the right." She paused and then said, "But I've been wondering . . . does that mean the right side of the body or the right things?" We laughed and then my sister asked, "What do you think?" Anna said, "The right side of my body."

(Later, when Anna wasn't around, we joked about how it would be if kids were taught that at church. "Don't ever use your left hand! Choose the right!")

2. I had to do a little maneuvering to get the car out of the driveway the other day, as someone was parked behind me, and Anna narrated our every move. "Okay, we're turning . . . now we're backin' up . . . and now we're frontin' up." Loved it.

3. 'Tis the season for night terrors, apparently. I guess they're pretty common around this age, but knowing that doesn't make the spontaneous screams much more bearable. I honestly have never heard Anna scream that way before, when she's conscious, with that much . . . terror, for lack of a better word. It's unnerving. On occasion, Anna will have a night terror and scream bloody murder, and there's pretty much no way I can actually wake her up and get her out of it. Talking to her, touching her, turning the lights on—nothing works. She's just so out of it. I usually just try to hug and comfort and sing a few songs and then she'll eventually quiet down after a couple minutes and keep on sleeping.

But with that said, I did have to smile the other night when I went into her room after hearing her yell. It seemed to be a more mild nightmare, because she was mostly just restless and grunting here and there with a grimace on her face. I noticed she had completely deblanketed herself, so when she started to calm down a little, I tried to put the blankets back on. With unconscious exasperation, she flung them off again. More grunts and grimaces. We went through this a couple of times until I finally won the blanket battle. But even as she settled in with her blankets on, she directed an especially mean grimace my way and stuck her tongue out at me. In her sleep. With her eyes still closed. It's so nice to know her attitude runs deep.

4. Another prayer excerpt: "We're thankful for our food and for whoever makes it. No matter what. Even if it's 'sparagus.'"


5. My mom was telling me and Anna the other morning about a funny dream she had that involved her two parents, who are now deceased. Anna got quite thoughtful and said, "Aw, it must have been good to see them." As we sat down to breakfast, Anna said the prayer and prayed for blessings on Grandma and Grandpa's parents. She said, "We hope they're doing well . . . up there . . . with you guys."

This is how Anna wanted to set up a shot. I happen to love it.

6. Anna was singing a song she was making up as she went along. She started to sing about being obedient and how "when Mom uses her strong voice, it doesn't mean she's being mean..." (Can you imagine this in a sing-song voice?) At this point, I said, "Hey! What are you doing singing about my strong voice?" And she said, "Mom, I'm just trying to improve my singing."

Oh. I see.

7. We had our primary program in church a while ago. On our way home, I was asking Anna about it and she vehemently said, "I'm NEVER going to THAT again!" I laughed and asked her why and she said that all the singing made her throat hurt. I tried to tell her that it was for a good cause and that they only do it once a year, but she still insisted. Never again.

Holiday side note: I also took her to see The Nutcracker, which she LOVED, but she said something similar about it. She said she was glad she wasn't one of the dancers because she would have been so tired after all of that dancing. Geez, lazy bones.

8. The other day, while sitting calmly at the table, Anna turned to my sister Stephanie and said, "Maybe today is the day Jen will turn into a goblin." (Jen is my other sister.) We got a good laugh out of that bit of randomness. And, as it turns out, that wasn't the day.

9. Things Anna's been saying lately:

In a fit of frustration: "Aw, drats!"
As a halfhearted whine: "Aw, Ma!"

When I find her after she's been hiding: "How did you recognize me?" or "How did you reveal my secret?"

10. I was showing Anna some old black and white pictures of my dad and his family when he was young. She said, "Where do they live? Kansas?" I said, "No, they lived in Idaho." I wondered why the heck she was thinking about Kansas and it took me a minute before I realized that she recently watched The Wizard of Oz, where everything in Kansas is black and white. I love her brain.