A bit unusual.

A tree made out of stuffed animals. 

Sounds crazy, right? Probably.

But I couldn't imagine Christmas without it. 

It's another tradition my Grandma started, but this one began before I was even born. 

It started on an old ladder with stuffed animals bound and tied to the frame, and became a pyramid frame with hooks when my Grandpa realized the tradition wasn't going anywhere. 

When my mom and her siblings all had homes and families of their own, the frame was adapted to a shower rod and peg boards in graduating sizes to make the tree shape you see now. 

Not only is this tradition unique to the Bell's, but each tree is different from house to house--except for one thing:

My Grandma loved the idea of the lamb and the lion, and each family has their own lamb and lion to place somewhere on the tree. 

The fact that it reminds me so much of my grandma is reason enough for me to love it--and look forward to "The Animal Tree" and it's decorating each year. 

It's different, but it's beautiful. 

What are some Christmas traditions that are unique to you and your family? 

One of many.

As cliche as it may sound, the holidays are my favorite time of year. 

I love the chaos of a million family events, the smell of our Christmas tree, and the glow of the fireplace burning all day long. 

Sandwiched between the typical holiday parties and gatherings, my family holds a couple of traditions that mark some of my favorite days of the year. 

When I was little, my grandma would devote an entire Saturday to gingerbread houses--and not just any gingerbread houses. What began as your typical four-walled creations quickly escalated to castles and train stations and airports and mansions, with dozens of frosting colors and candy types to decorate with. The enormous creations we would make were extravagant and some would say over-the-top. But we loved those gingerbread houses. 

After my grandma passed away my junior year of high school, my mom wanted a way to carry on that tradition, but without the craziness and elaborate architecture. 

So....96 sugar cookies and six bags of royal icing later, you have our cousin Christmas cookie decorating party. 

By the end of the night, it's nearly impossible to tell what is a "decorated" cookie and what is merely a pile of icing that spilled from the frosting bag, but watching the little kids decorate their cookies and then show them off--before eating them of course--is always an adventure. 

[And by the looks of the cookies we had this year, these kiddos are getting pretty darn good at using those icing bags.]

December is one of my favorite months of the year, and the next couple of posts are going to show why that is exactly. From my lucky day, to Christmas Eve traditions and everywhere in between...here's to the happiest month of the year.

A touchy subject.

[DISCLAIMER: This post may be slightly pointless and not really help anybody out there--not that any of mine do, really--but I needed to talk, and that's what this blog is for. Read at your own risk, I guess?]

From the time we're little, we're taught to put ourselves in a good environment, with people that uplift and support us, and make us better people. I have been very very blessed in this respect, and I am very aware of how lucky I am. 

I have parents that support me in everything I do, whether it's another crazy hair-dye job, a confusing class schedule, or a spur of the moment trip home just to grab a snowboard. They never question me, and always make sure I'm aware that I can make decisions by myself and that they'll support me in everything I do. 

I have five younger siblings who look up to me, and make me a better person everyday. Brittany pushes me to do my best, Ryan looks to me for music suggestions, Emily asks for book recommendations, and Aubrey and Mary would follow me anywhere I ask them to go (as long as they got  Zupa's or Dum-Dums out of the deal.) 

My five roommates listen to every complaint I have about anything, and always have advice for me. They wait up for me from work, even on my crazy weekend shifts, and never fail to make me smile on a hard day. 

I have the three best boy-friends a girl could ever ask for. They change my tires, buy me ice cream, and stop by for random visits to make sure I'm doing okay. 

Add these to the many, many, many other people in my life that keep me sane, make me smile, and never cease to make me try harder, and you can guarantee that I'm a very lucky girl. 

That said, I have also been....blessed...with some people in my life that serve mainly as trials. Long story short, it's been nearly ten years since I had any kind of face-to-face communication with one set of my grandparents, and the aunts, uncles, and cousins involved on that side. Other than random, completely coincidental (or accidental, you could say) interactions, there has been nothing. Zero. Zilch. Nada. 

It's not fun to grow up without grandparents. [Don't get me wrong, my other grandparents are angels. Literally, the best people alive.] Picture this: you're nine years old, and suddenly, there's no contact with one set of grandparents. Then, you're fifteen, and you're grandma passes away. It physically hurt every day to know that I didn't have a full set of grandparents out there, and that the one grandma you did have left was gone. Then, try explaining that to a three-year-old and a five-year-old. It doesn't work. 

Thankfully, my grandpa found Jo, and the position of grandma has been filled--and I can't express how grateful I am for that. 

But, it still hurts. To know that less than five miles away from my apartment, I have a set of grandparents that haven't had contact with my family in almost a decade. This year, they will have missed more birthday's than they've made. They missed my first date, my first dance, and my first day of high school. They missed me crossing the finish line for my third Ragnar, walking across the stage for my high school graduation, and didn't hear me speak at Seminary graduation. They'll miss my wedding. My kids. And so many other milestones that I can't even begin to count. 

For a long time, I was really bitter about the situation, to the point that I was angry and mad at them for everything they missed. But now, through lots of talking it out, and tons of time spent on my knees asking for any way to be even mildly OK with the situation, I've come to terms with it. It still hurts, but I've moved on. 

So imagine my surprise today, when taking a table's order, I look up and see my aunt. The one whom I haven't spoken to since I was ten years old. After informing my manager that I needed to call my parents, PRONTO, I took their advice and said hello. 

"I don't know if you recognize me..."
"I do. You're Ashley." 

"Well, uhhh, it's been a long time. It's nice to see you!" 

"Yeah, good to see you." 

And that was that. Even as I walked away, I knew that nothing was going to change because I'd said hello. But for the first time in years, I was content that I'd done what I needed to, and there was nothing else I could have done. Because family isn't just the people who you share a gene pool with, or the people who have the same blood as you do. 

They're the people you call at 3 a.m. because you can't sleep. The ones that know you well enough to know you're not OK even though you say you are. The ones that cook your favorite meals when you come home, or have a carton of orange juice for you to take back up to school with you. The ones who spend hours fixing your car...and aren't too mad when it still doesn't work. The ones who can make you laugh when you don't even want to smile. The ones who would do anything for you, and you'd do exactly the same. 

And in those terms? My family is huge. And I'm so lucky. 

Reason for the season.

I love being home. Because I get to see Christmas lights with my cute sisters. [We saw a Christmas moose, a Christmas dragon, and a Christmas moose. If they're made of Christmas lights, they're holiday animals. Ask Mary, and my mom.]

Christmas means family parties, and seeing this little cutie. I haven't seen him for three months, at least, and he's the happiest little guy I've met. He didn't let me put him down for a majority of the night, and I was perfectly okay with that.

Same family Christmas party, just a different view. All of the Bell cousins, making donuts, drinking hot chocolate, and opening presents for the cousin gift exchange. We even got Amy's family--who lives in Vancouver--in on the fun via FaceTime. Here's a mass of the small children, watching the Lay's open their gifts, and vice versa. My family is definitely cooler than yours.

Not really sure what this one is for, but we must be related or something.

I love Christmas morning, and this year? I got leggings to match Mary's. We rocked the matching outfits today, and my great grandma told me, "Those are the classiest pants I have ever seen." You better believe they are.

Then I was at the Kunzler's getting destroyed at Uno and Phase 10, and my mom told me to hurry home because Matt and Braxton had brought a present over for me. I came home to this little beauty, and you better believe it's going up in my room. I'm a lucky girl, ladies and gents.

Even though presents and games and dinners and cousins are great, there's more to the Christmas season. And as exciting as new toys are, it's important for us to remember the real reason we celebrate this holiday. 

"For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord...Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men." 

Our Saviour died for us, and he lives today; and He, not presents or candy canes or Santa Claus, is the reason this season is so special. 

Merry Christmas, friends. 

I'm well aware.

There are a few things in life that I am truly passionate about. My family, the church, lacrosse, and cancer awareness. It just so happens that October is Breast Cancer Awareness month, and seeing as this is the kind of cancer that has had the most--if not only--direct impact on my life. So it's time for a little story. 

I remember going to my grandparents house one Sunday when I was in 8th grade, and having my grandparents sit us all down to "talk." I'm the oldest, and I was 13, so there was a mass of small children running around. My grandpa told us that my grandma had been diagnosed with breast cancer, and I remember my parents and aunts and uncles all crying. I didn't really know what that meant, but I knew that cancer was a bad thing. I guess then it didn't really process how dangerous and terrifying the situation was. 

That year, my grandparents, my aunt Maddy, and my little sister Brittany and I registered for the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure. Coincidentally, that day marked exactly 15 days after my grandma's first chemotherapy treatment. As I found out, 14 days after the first treatment is when the effects really start to be visible, and sure enough, as we were getting our posters and outfits ready for the walk, her hair started to come out. We tried to make light of the situation by making posters with lines such as: "The Tortoise with No Hair." "No More Bad Hair Days"  and even went as far as to make a heart with the hair and a message about how much we loved our grandma. As much fun as the walk was, I don't think I'll ever get the image out of my head of my grandpa shaving the last patches of hair off while we all watched on the back porch.

Watching the effects of chemotherapy and radiation take it's toll on my grandma was the second hardest thing I've ever done. (We'll get to the worst later.) But there has not been a better example of perseverance, courage, and endurance in the history of the world. Not once did she complain, or even stop doing what she'd always done. 

Cancer has put a huge "black mark" of sorts on the last five years of my life. And I know that I'm not the only one affected by it. So many people are diagnosed daily with so many different kinds of cancer

If we're speaking technically, my grandma passed away because of a brain tumor. But ultimately, breast cancer is the cause. Breast cancer is the reason I hate October, and can barely make it through May. Breast cancer is the reason I am an avid supporter of the Huntsman Cancer Institute and while I offer to volunteer for the LLS Light the Night. Breast cancer is the reason I'm not a huge fan of the color pink. And breast cancer is the reason I don't have my biggest hero here with me today. 

When it comes to Breast Cancer Awareness month, I can honestly say that I'm well aware. And a silly blog post won't help find a cure, but it does show the world that I'm aware. 

I'm aware of the effects cancer can have on a family. I'm aware of the mass of people that are required to help a single person through treatment. I'm aware of the funds needed for a cure, and I'm aware that in some cases, there is no cure. I'm aware of the grief that comes when cancer wins, and I'm aware that for the rest of my life, cancer will be a possibility. But I'm also aware of the millions of people out there fighting, and even more people who are helping them, as doctors, therapists, surgeons--you name it. The moral of the story? Cancer sucks. And I'll never get over it. 

We called it an adventure.

My aunt Amy is in town with her family--they live in Portland, Oregon--so this week, we planned all sorts of activities to keep us all sp busy we didn't have time to think straight. Today? We took everyone to Lagoon. And although it was pure chaos at meal times and finding an even number of people to go on every ride was crazy, it was fun. My feet won't forgive me for a while, but memories are worth it, right? 

We made all the kids go on Wicked, at least the ones who were tall enough to do so. This picture was waiting in line, before Dallin and Davis (the little boys pictured) screamed like little girls, and Emily asked, during a dead stop no less, "Dad? Are we still upside down?" They loved it, a fact they'd only admit after they were on solid ground again and far enough away we couldn't rush them back in line. 

For some odd reason, my family found a strange delight in Rattlesnake Rapids. Like, we rode the ride a combined total of 50+ times. Granted, there were at least 20 of us that went, but still. Numbers, people. After a majority of us decided we were done being wet, Grandpa and Jo decided they wanted to keep riding. So they took a bunch of the kids, and the rest of us watched....and paid for the water geysers to go off on them at every possible second. As if they weren't already wet enough. Aubrey was freezing cold, and my Grandpa and Jo looked....rather damp the rest of the day. 

I played the best big sister ever for part of the afternoon, and took Mary and Aubrey on just about every ride in Kiddieland. Mary asked and asked to go on these cars, even though I warned her she'd be bored after the roller coaster. She insisted, so I put her on it with Addy, Lauren, and Aubrey. As she came to the end where we were all waiting, she pounded her fists on the steering wheel and said, "Ash. That was the lamest ride, EVER." Told ya so. 

With a bunch of little kids, the train was an obvious choice for a ride. But then, we found out there were animals to see. If someone had told me I could see a zebra, lion, Siberian tiger, ostrich, llama, panther, and a stinking kangaroo within walking distance from my house, I would never go to Hogle Zoo again. Except for the giraffes. They're worth the drive. 

If Addy's little face here doesn't sum up the excitement these kids had all day, I don't know what would. Tomorrow, we're off to some museum at BYU to look at all sorts of animals and eat massive hot dogs, which should keep everyone happy. Plus, BYU friends are planning on making an appearance. Yay college friends! (I used an exclamation point. That's big. Which means I'm excited.) Also, three days until PC. The excitement is escalating.