Jack Frost. And Katy Perry.

When January 10th rolls around and you haven't taken Christmas down, you begin to think that maybe you should just leave it up for next year because, hey, spring is right around the corner and then comes summer, fall and BAM, you're smack dab in the middle of winter again. 

It feels kinda redundant to keep repeating yourself every year, you know.  

We did leave our Christmas lights up one year when we lived in Hawaii, but that was just to bug our ex-door neighbor, Martha.  

Remember that, Martha? 

It kinda backfired on us though because by the next December none of the lights worked. But at least we tried to bug Martha--better to have tried and failed than never to have tried at all. 

So they say.

So yesterday I was voted most embarrassing mom in the history of the world just because I testified to the truthfulness of Katy Perry when I introduced the New Young Men/Young Women theme in Sacrament Meeting.  

Kids these dayz!!! It's not like I bore my testimony of Lady Gaga or Keisha. 

I swear my kids LOOK for reasons to accuse me of being uncool and unhip.

Whatev! I'm totally with it, dude. I'm plugged in, man. On the hook.

Slap me some skin, ya'll.    

And anyways, my kids have no room to talk about what's embarrassing. They are all currently suffering from a severe jacket disorder, (which kinda makes me look bad).

I hate to say it, but almost everyone in Utah has a jacket disorder. It's one of those things we don't talk about though--we keep it on the down-low. (That's DL for us hipsters.) Rumor has it that Utah is the happiest state, even though rumor also has it that we suffer from the most depression and bankruptcy and suicide and porn addiction and ice cream addiction and prescription pain med addiction and Book of Mormon addiction . . . but I bet you haven't heard about the high percentage of jacket disorders in Utah?

My closet overfloweth with jackets and sweatshirts and hoodies and sweaters and coats, but my kids avoid these items at all costs. And if they do wear them, they wear them sparingly. 

Me thinks they're on a jacket diet. 

One of my three sons will SOMETIMES put a coat on in the morning, only to take it off as soon as he jumps out of the car for school.   

"But no one else wears coats!" They all protest. 

The only thing that would embarrass my children more than testifying of Katy Perry over the pulpit at church is if I declared that I believe the winter coat is divinely inspired. And maybe mention how grateful I am to have it in my life.  

It would be like wearing closed-toed shoes in Hawaii--blasphemous!

I have a dream that one day my children won't have to rely on my testimony of the winter coat, but that their faith in it will wax strong, regardless of what everyone else is doing. 

"If your friend's winter coat jumped off a bridge, would your winter coat jump off a bridge?" I keep asking them. 

(Totally rhetorical question, of course.) 

Betcha Jack Frost just sits back, laughs, and thinks, "HA! got 'em! They're mine now!"

One thing I've done to teach my children the basic principals of appropriate winter wear is created a chart out of vinyl lettering, which outlines exactly how to navigate their way through the icy temperatures ahead: 

(Feel free to plagiarize.)

Minimum Requirements to Avoid Getting Kung-Fu-Panda-Kicked by My Mom.

40 degrees--t-shirt and slippahs

32 degrees--light jacket

28 degrees-- light jacket, zipped

25 degrees--wool overcoat 

20 degrees--wool overcoat, buttoned and accented with a solid fleece scarf 

15 degrees--Brightly-colored stay-puff marshmallow coat.  

10 degrees or below--B-CS-PM coat, zipped, buttoned and accented with hot chocolate. 

(Btw, I would have spelled the whole thing out, but I ran out of vinyl.)