This Moment Brought to You by IKEA

Thanksgiving took us to my sister's house this year, which is a seven-hour drive without a child and a two-day trip with a hotel in there somewhere with a child. We had a lovely time, with my little family, my parents, my grandmother, and my sister's family all under one roof. We had turkey and delicious sweet potato casserole and ready-made mashed potatoes, because, according to my mom, if you know how to make something you're allowed to buy it already prepared. (I do not understand this logic, but I wholeheartedly agree with it.)

The trip home took us past IKEA, and as it so happens Kevin has never been there. We went in with two "needs": toy kitchen for Harry's Christmas present and a back-up bathmat, for those rare instances when I have washed our bathmat and it's drying in the basement. We left, of course, with significantly more. First of all, Harry absolutely, positively fell completely head over heels in love with a stuffed kangaroo that it as big as he is. He refused to release it, so it traveled the store with us. And eventually Harry fell asleep on it, and the decision to buy it became final.

We also bought a shelf for our dining room. I knew the day was coming when Harry would replace me as Kevin's handy helper, but I thought it was still off in the future.


Harry helped Kevin put in gigantic bolts, and aside from the crying while the drill was running, he did a great job.


The final product:


A small selection of my Fiestaware, including some pieces I love but rarely have occasion to use: for instance, the gravy boat. I guess that means I should host Thanksgiving again.

Dear Me Last Week

If I could write myself a letter, from the future, about our trip to Salt Lake City, it would go something like this. . .

Dear Kate,

Don't worry. You will make it to the airport on time. In fact, you will be three hours early, so pack another book for Harry. He will not sleep for more than 30 minutes on the airplane, but one wonderful flight attendant will shower him with attention and he will happily eat little cereal puffs and learn to drink out of a sport-top water bottle. The flight home will be fine, too.

Kevin will ski at three mountains over four days but will take a day off in the middle of it all to spend an afternoon with you and Harry in Temple Square, and Harry will be enchanted with the sound of his own voice in the Tabernacle.



Frances will find a delicious recipe and you will watch her bake Frances Cake while you feed and play with Harry. Everyone else on the ski trip, even those who may not be too excited about sharing a house with an 8-month-old, will comment on its deliciousness.




Another skier, who my dad still refers to as his Fairy God-Neighbor though he has not lived down the street from her in five years, will buy Harry new books on her day off of skiing. All three books are very popular, of course, because you are raising Harry to be a voracious reader. Good job, by the way!



You will order a children's meal at Joe's Crab Shack, but the humiliation of doing so is far outweighed by your relief at finding something - anything - on the menu that is not seafood. And you'll be eating there with Frances, who is one of your favorite people in the whole world, and Kevin, who is another one of those people, and when you get home there is a strawberry daiquiri waiting for you.

So, good trip. Relax and enjoy.

Love,
Kate