A Hjelmstad-Griswold Christmas {Aka The Grand Tree Misadventure, In Pictures}

As you've probably seen, our tree took on a personality all its own this year. Here's the story.

We decided that we'd take advantage of Colorado's Regional Christmas Tree Program, which helps the Forest Service manage certain areas of the forest while you get to cut down a tree in their designated areas for - get this - a whopping $10. Win-win. 

Or so we thought.

We drove up after Thanksgiving on Black Friday, since that was the only time we had between work and alll the many weekend commitments packed into our calendar before Christmas. We stopped by the ranger station, got our map of designated areas, and picked a spot near Lake Dillon to go hunt for the perfect Christmas Tree. It went something like this:[Cue The Griswolds Finding their Christmas Tree].

Except it was a little warmer, the scenery was 100% better, and instead of someone's toes freezing a kid decided he needed to poop in the middle of the forest.

Also, instead of forgetting the saw, we forgot the tape measure. 

Small details. 

The sun indeed shone down on the Perfect Tree when Peter found it, just like it did for Father Griswold, and since we forgot the tape measure, we thought we could judge its relatively small size in relation to the other trees around it. 

For reference:  

Tall

Taller...

"Small."

The cool part: we counted the rings and found that
our tree was the same age as Peter and me.

Tiny, right? [Wrong].
It was at this point that we remembered that we had to carry it. Allllll the way back to the car.

The kids had fun playing while we attempted to drag the tree to the road.
(Which happened between our five attempts to help the one child who needed to
answer the call of nature).

Our backs [were just beginning to] hurt - but our eyes were happy. So happy. 

Most frequently-asked questions: 

1. How did you get it home? 

2. How did you manage to put it up?

3. How in the world did you get it decorated?

Well, this is how we got it home - cargo bungees, sore backs, careful driving, and lots of looks. 

Now, remember the little part about the measuring tape? Well, when we got home and measured it, our "little" looking tree cleared the ceiling by about 2 inches (which is 18' at its highest point and about 16' at the furthest point we could push the tree back to with its ginormous circumference). Two inches, people. I'd like to go on the record as saying that I tried to convince Peter to cut at least six inches off the bottom when we got home. [Tried and failed. Lessons learned]. I'd also like to go on the record to say that we've successfully put up 13-15' trees the past two years. But they were a different kind, bought locally - which were a few hundred dollars more expensive, but also a few hundred pounds lighter.

Which brings us to the "how the heck did we set it up" question. Let's just say if we had anyone around to document us trying to set it up, we would've put them to work instead of documenting it. It took three tries to get the brute standing upright, and we almost quit after the second try, in which the base that I was trying to hold in place with all my might pushed me straight into the wall and dented our air return vent. We took a break, texted a few people [who weren't home] to see if they could help, and then we decided to try one more time. Just one. And voila! A true Christmas miracle.

Later, when we had enough energy and perspective to laugh, we thought it was funny that our backs were so "sore" simply carrying it to the car--if only we'd known what was to come.

We did it!

...but for real. Insanity.

As for how we got it decorated....

Exhibit A

Exhibit B

Exhibit C
(Attempting to put the angel up for the 50th time with only two inches of clearance).

After it fell about 49 times, I had this great jerry-rigging idea - that didn't work.

Finally, during one of our jerry-rigging attempts,
the angel fell into an upright-ish sort of spot on a top branch. So there she stayed.

And it was magical.

We had a few more fun Griswold moments, like finding pinecones in the wash and a bit of
tree branch dangling from the car window a few days later.

But overall, it was magical.
Especially getting to share it with my family over Christmas.
(We also got to share a stomach bug, which was less magical,
but that's another story for another day. Or not).

Exhibit D: How to dwarf the present pile.

In the end, the adventure was worth the ten bucks I think.

Our good Ole Goliath made it till Christmas before it started dying, so sadly I think it will have to come down before the Epiphany. (If you're local and you want to help, you're more than welcome to come on over and join the felling party...ha...ha...) But it had a good run, and I think we learned our lesson for next year:

Never forget the tape measure.

[Or the saw].

Cheers!

A Major (Or)deal

This is the long story long of how a little something I never really planned on turned into a great big sigh of relief by the time all was said and done. [With maybe a tear or two in the process].

{The Background}
When I got off active duty as a Captain 2012, I never planned on wearing a uniform again. Ever. I was DONE. I did everything I could to ensure I would slide out of the service seamlessly and make it as easy as possible on our family: I avoided taking command of a company and made sure I didn't get scheduled for a mandatory school called the Captain's Career Course (which is about five months long and a requirement to move on to the next rank of Major). I certainly had no reason to think I'd ever wear the rank of Major, so I avoided the inconvenience of that course with all my might until I safely landed in happy civilian land.

It was all good until a little birdie convinced me two years later that I wasn't finished wearing a uniform after all. So I signed up for the Reserves.

But I went through quite the headache to do so, because [as I learned in the process], I hadn't been processed out of my last duty station correctly; I was "coded wrong" in the system.

After spending two weeks calling what seemed like everyone in the entire active and reserve Army, it was finally fixed (or so I thought), and I was in! FORESHADOWING.

I quickly found out that my promotion from Captain to Major was coming up - my two year "break" in the inactive Army still counted toward my total service time, and the promotion board for my year group in the Reserves was already scheduled--ahead of all of my peers on active duty. [It still seems like a pretty cheapskate way of skipping to the head of the line to me, but I'm not going to complain, especially knowing now what was to come]. So I hurried and scheduled my school course, that one I'd worked so hard to avoid, so I would be qualified for Major before my promotion board was held.

In the mean time, I took company command--another thing I said I'd never do, ha--and got myself nice and busy with other daily work in addition to school.

{Fast Forward to the Present}
Ultimately I completed the school, I got my qualifications updated, and the promotion board was held in February of 2016, and "the list" came out in June - which is pretty much just that, a list of all the names of those who were selected for promotion to the next rank. And there I was! Phew.

[As an aside: Peter also officially came out on the promotion list, but his board occurred a bit after mine because he's in a special branch called the Medical Corps. They like to do things their own way. So we're waiting on his orders as we speak.]

Now in the reserves, once you come out on the list you have to be placed into what's called a "slot," or a specific spot in your unit with your appropriate level rank in order to be promoted. Then you send a form up a few levels to the Reserve Promotions department to confirm that you've been moved to a proper slot. The promotions department then cuts your orders, the official document that allows you to wear your new rank.

Now, my unit immediately moved me from a Captain's spot (as the company commander) to a Major's spot (the brigade Human Resources officer) and sent the form to the promotions department so I could get my orders. Easy enough.

• July came and went - no orders.
• August came and went - no orders.
• (My unit started checking to see what the holdup was, but had to go through several levels to do so. More waiting).
• September came and went - no orders.
• My brigade commander began calling around the Army. (For those of you who have tried getting the proper person on the phone at the highest level, you know how maddening it usually is). 
• He told me sometime in October that he finally managed to get a number to the right person, and that some paperwork from my active duty days was amiss; I just had to call and get whatever it was corrected and my promotion orders could be cut. Simple, right?

Well.

That number led me to a lovely lady who essentially told me that the little snaffoo I'd run into when I was trying to get back in the reserves meant that I didn't have an official commission in the Reserves. (Huh?) And that meant I might be dropped completely from the Reserves and have to pay back everything I'd earned that past two years. I didn't understand the half of what she said, but I was a nervous wreck for a good week thinking that this might actually be a possibility.

Finally, after I'd gathered all my paperwork and previous orders and called her again, we figured out what had happened.

• For those of you who want the convoluted details: in 2012 Fort Drum didn't send a certain discharge paper (71R, which I had) to the Reserves, so it was as if I'd disappeared instead of being listed in the inactive reserves during my two-year break. So when I signed back up, administratively it was as if I was appearing out of thin air. Whoever corrected my code at that time only fixed half the problem; my code was updated, but because I didn't have orders from my inactive time, I didn't have a Reserve Officer Commission, which means I couldn't get promotion orders. 
• In layman's terms, it was pretty much a big fat headache for a big fat long month.

I ultimately got backdated orders for my 2 years of inactive status, and had to make sure those didn't trigger then any of the systems to mess up all of my documentation or the status of my service. After I kept calling, finally, finally, around December 1st, I confirmed that it was all good in the Big Army Information System in the Sky.

Five days later, the day before our unit's December drill, I got my promotion orders to Major.

I couldn't stop laughing.

It was such a relief. I wasn't even concerned at that point about wearing the rank and all that came with it, I was just so happy to be done with the whole exhausting mess! I let my unit and my family know that it had happened - an actual Christmas Miracle - and that I'd be officially promoted the next day during my drill, since that was my boss's one condition: I had to have my promotion in front of a formation. I told Peter and the kids that I wanted him to promote me since my Dad, my role model for everything Army and more, was across the country.

I was completely prepared to be all snarky about the whole thing and just get it over with already. But unbeknownst to me, my family had far more sentimental plans. Month after month during this whole ordeal, Peter and my dad had been conspiring to fly my dad out so he could be the one to promote me. They had the flights figured out and everything - they were just waiting on official word to buy the ticket. But month after month, still no orders. So finally my dad mailed his Major's rank (which looks like a gold oak leaf) to my in-laws' house so I wouldn't inadvertently intercept the package. When I sent my poor dad the message that I'd finally gotten my orders, my parents were busy moving because they'd literally just sold my childhood home that week, where they'd lived for nearly 25 years. So no flight for him.

But I knew none of that. All I knew was that when my promotion ceremony was underway and the kids and Peter were lining up in front of me, Peter suddenly went off script and announced to everyone that he was going to be doing things a little unconventionally. He pulled out my dad's shiny oak leaves and gave me a run for my money trying to keep my eyes dry as he explained how my dad had planned month after month to be the one standing there to pin it on me. Gah.

I also normally don't wear my Airborne insignia ("jump wings") on my uniform unless they've been sewn on. But I figured that day since it was an official ceremony, I'd bring a little piece of my dad with me. I dug out the wings my dad had pinned on me 11 years ago when I graduated from Airborne school--which were the very first pair of wings pinned on him 26 years before when he graduated from Airborne school on the very same airfield.

After my last (middle of the night) jump...

After he pinned his first pair of wings on me.

So even though he wasn't there in person like he wanted to be and I would've loved him to be, I felt every bit of the special bond we share connecting some of the most important moments in both of our lives. My in-laws showed up to support me too, which was so wonderful, and Peter taught the kids how to punch me good and hard after the new rank was pinned on. Some things never change...

I forgot to mention that Peter and the kids raced after from two hours
of him entertaining the boys during Marie's hockey practice. High fives. 

"O4 swag" ...because it wouldn't be Peter to resist even the slightest opportunity for a gag gift.

Overall, this promotion was a much bigger deal than I intended it to be, both in the process to get there and ceremony itself. But on the back end, I'm not sad about it. Clearly, I know better than to say "never" after telling you about all the other things that I said I'd never do...but there's always a possibility that this could be the highest rank in which I serve. And it was my dad's final rank before he took an early retirement to care for our family when my mom was extremely ill. So I'll take the unexpected sentimentality and fanfare over the eye-rolling that I had ready, and I'm sure I'll appreciate the significance even more in future years than I do now.

Thanks, Dad (and all involved) - for everything!!!

Gratuitous Thanksgiving-gramming Just in Time for Christmas {November, Part III}

Basically this is just a post to celebrate the fact that we survived hosting Thanksgiving for the first time in...5 years?...even with a multitude of food intolerances. And it was easy!!!
.
Well, relatively. It was only us plus two; Peter's parents who have hosted the past 4 years. They had to travel the day after Thanksgiving, so when we offered to host, they were delighted. I was excited about making all sorts of new gluten-and-dairy free dishes and desserts, too... for about two seconds, until I remembered how much I loathe baking or following recipes that aren't already in my head or I can make up as I go along.

But Peter, knowing all of this (even better than I know it myself in some ways), steered us into Type A Planning overdrive, and having it all organized for me really did make for a mostly fun time both preparing the feast and enjoying each other's company around the table.
{The moral of the story is that I just need someone to plan out my life like this every day - tell me exactly what to do and when to do it and press 'go' and it will be fabulous. Any takers?}

The Gluten, Dairy, Garlic and Onion-Free Menu: 

(mostly for me in case I need to do this again some day - eeep)

Turkey - Peter gets full credit. Don't even know which store he went to for it. My goal is to make it through life without ever having to be the one to cook the turkey. This is also probably the reason I didn't think hosting was that hard.

Mashed Potatoes - Recipe from my head. Peeled and quartered white potatoes, cooked them in boiling water for a good 45min, drained them, mashed them old-school style with a hand masher, then kept adding added EVOO, our kind of "butter" (Earth Balance soy-free spread), salt, pepper, rosemary, and almond milk (*unsweetened is key!) in small amounts until the potatoes were smooth and creamy and delicious enough for my mashed potato standards.

Stuffing - http://jeanetteshealthyliving.com/gluten-free-dairy-free-thanksgiving-stuffing/ 
I was most afraid of this dish, and it turned out so well and was so much easier than I thought it would be that I felt like a total boss. Seriously, I think I'm making it again for Christmas which is saying A LOT for me. Recipe alterations: I used Udi's white bread slightly toasted (9 cups total) omitted the onions because I can't eat them, and the mushrooms because we just don't like them in our family. Peter bought backup stuffing mix and didn't even make it because this was so good. Highly recommend!

Green Beans - steamed and tossed in EVOO, salt, and pepper.
Corn - steamed and tossed with our "butter."

Made by the inlaws:

Sweet Potato Casserole - incredibly delish.
Cranberry sauce - also delish.
Deviled eggs - My MIL's signature dish. Peter and his brother request them at every family gathering and fight over them if there are any left to fight over. I'm forever thankful that she makes them because I *still* can't hard boil and egg to save my life. {Trust me. I've tried a million times. And failed a million and one times.}

And, because you can't win it all: 

(and not everyone has to run screaming from gluten)

Cranberry Sauce - from a can
Fruit Cocktail - from a jar
Corn muffins - from a box
Gravy - from a mix

There was some sparkling juice for the kids which turned into a burping contest and, of course, some good red and white vino for the big kids.

DESSERT

Pecan Pie - I used this delectable recipe: http://www.allergyfreealaska.com/2014/11/20/gluten-free-pecan-pie-corn-syrup-free-refined-sugar-free/  with pre-made gluten/dairy free pie shells and it turned out great! (This bakery local to us stocks the pie shells in our regular grocery store, which is awesome).

Chocolate Chip Pecan Pie - same recipe as above plus 1 c. gluten/dairy-free chocolate chunks  These are definitely happening again for Christmas.

Pumpkin Pie - I used the recipe on the back of the pumpkin can with the pre-made pie shells and subbed canned coconut milk for sweetened-condensed milk. I bet you your pumpkin can has the same recipe. Can I be honest, though? After all these years I still don't love pumpkin pie. Forget tradition. Next time if I commit to the grueling work of measuring and stirring and reading directions in tiny print, I'm gonna make something I actually like enough to not share. Like pumpkin bread. Yum.

Cherry Pie - Peter's cheater NOT GF/DF dessert using pre-made shells and pie filling. But he made the turkey so he still wins.

The picture overkill:

I had motivation to let them "help" me bake pies until I
 caught this - and they were all banished from the kitchen. 

He had sticky notes on every serving dish and pan and a list down to the minute with
what time we should start every dish - how long it needed to cook, what temperature etc.

He couldn't decide on whether he wanted to be a Pilgrim
or Native American, so he chose table runner.

{That's better.}

This stuffing, you guys. I'm still so proud of myself. Amazing.

Turkey done to perfection.

Until next time...

Veterans Day Fun {November, Part II}

Over Veterans Day we had the pleasure of seeing my brother Matthew, better known as Uncle Q, when he flew out for the weekend from California. It was a great visit packed with lots of fun, and as I looked back through the pictures it made me realize why I'm always so tired - we just kept going and going and going!

The kids, of course, were elated to have Uncle Q in the house...

And so was I, friends. So was I.

On Veterans Day itself we headed to the Avs game - we had gotten free tickets through the kids' hockey program and decided to go while my brother was around. There was an incredible tribute before the game with Veterans from every campaign since WWII. They started with the most recent and ended with a man born in 1919 who survived D-day. He got a thuderous standing ovation and was still able to drop the puck. It was awesome and I cried.  

And after I shared this picture, lo and behold I got a text from my old West Point friend/classmate Brittany, who's currently residing across the country in Philadelphia, saying "hey, where are you?! We're here too!" So we found each other and got to chat during the third period - so fun. 

The kids behind us were photobombing masters.

The most fun was just watching Peter and Marie bonding over hockey together. He has totally been in his element since she started playing. [The kids' original program ended after six weeks, but Marie wanted to keep playing and was able to start on a team right away. The boys will pick up with more classes after the holidays]. The two of them were just so entertaining to watch as they sat next to each other during the game, cheering and badgering each other and just being downright adorable. The boys had a pretty good time hanging out with Uncle Q, too. The Avs won in overtime, and even though we got back two hours past bedtime it was a great night all around!

Tired Ookie.

The next morning Marie had hockey bright and early of course, so Uncle Q got to see her in action.

I accidentally caught her scoring a goal right as I snapped the picture!
(Far left in the gold - looking toward the stands
where we were obnoxiously cheering) 

That afternoon, we took advantage of the nice weather and hiked the long stairway up to the Mother Cabrini Shrine - just in time to visit a set of Holy Doors in the nearby chapel, too, before the Year of Mercy closed- whew! I hadn't made it to any other sites this year so I was thankful we made the trip. No pictures of the doors, though, as there was a private service being held in the sanctuary at the time. 

We caught the Supermoon rising over Denver on the way home
I space geeked out a little and wished I had my good camera.

On Sunday I visited with one of my dearest friends, Tera, who was also in town for the weekend (clearly Denver is the place to be!). I got to flirt with her adorable littlest Mister while we sipped tea at my favorite tea house and then walked around Target, as two moms who suddenly have time to themselves will naturally find themselves doing.

And finally, on Monday, I talked my brother into self-torture by inviting him to a barre class with me while the kids were in school. He was a total champ having never done it before, especially considering that it was a more difficult class than usual. We took a little walk in the afternoon when Ethan was home to make sure all our muscles were still there/stretch out the muscles we didn't know existed before he had to fly home the next day. 

The weekend was full of wonderful sibling bonding -- we got to relax a little between the stress of daily life and had some of our usual laugh-till-it hurts moments (specifically playing The Meta Game). We all agree that we can't wait to have Q back in town again soon!