Tate’s school Christmas party was great fun until Santa –regular, jolly Santa- arrived. Tate instantly put down his pizza and told me he wanted to leave right away to go home and take a nap.
I’m going to reference this when the kids ask one of their top questions: Why can’t we see God? Remember how overwhelming it was to see Santa Claus in person? Seeing God might be more than we could handle.
What do you give a woman who is teaching your child to read? There’s not a dollar amount that says THANK YOU FOR TAKING CARE OF MY KINDERGARTNER! The closest we can get is to make things with our hands that need to be taken out of the oven and stirred every 15 minutes. Hopefully the recipients will feel the love, Like Water For Chocolate style.
We’ve been tending aloe vera for Tate’s teachers since the summer. They love kitchen windowsills and coffee. (Please note the full cup of milk on the table, ready to spill all over all the packages getting ready for the post office. If our life was a video game, there would be milk cup obstacles everywhere. Correction- in our real life, there are milk cup obstacles everywhere.)
The goal was to finish Holly’s Christmas dress in time to wear it to both the Christmas Eve service and the church Christmas pageant, tomorrow morning. As of about 1 o’clock this afternoon, it’s done- just in time.
The only actual thing that I really craved while pregnant with both boys was grapefruit. I would find myself at the grocery store with a 10 lb bag of grapefruits, cartons of grapefruit juice, and Fresca, then force myself to put away at least one of the beverages. When we moved into our house, there was a big whisky barrel on our porch with a small grapefruit tree in it. We planted the tree, pictured below as the scrawny tree in the corner, when we started our beds. There’s me pregnant with Rush-
here’s Rush today-
and the grapefruit tree-
Last year it produced fruit for the first time, buckets of fruit which we called Miscellaneous Inedible Citrus. This year, we have actual grapefruits!
December in Texas: Sitting outside in your bloomers, covered in red beans and rice, eating grapefruit fresh off the tree.
Trent will never live down the Great Kitchen Remodel of Whatever Year That Was. We were looking each other straight in the eyes when we decided that we would work on our kitchen after the holidays and that we would plan a Christmas party. The day after we sent out party invitations, men arrived to rip out our kitchen countertops, setting of a chain reaction of repair and painting projects. Trent ‘forgot’ about the conversation? I don’t know, but he’s paid for it in full for having to listen to me bring it up every year.
Trent has also left many major Christmas projects (notably, the cutting boards and kitchen –I honestly can’t believe those happened in the same year) until December. It’s not an exaggeration to say he finds something every December to occupy every second of his free time. He even did it last year. Last year, when Holly was born. In December.
We’re making almost everything we’re giving Holly this year and I’m not sure at what point I should start stressing about how much needs to be completed. I’m Trent this year with the massive project load. There’s no take-a-day-off-work option, one of Trent’s secret weapons. His other secret weapon is not worrying about anything else, like presents that might need to be purchased or sheets that need to be changed for houseguests. But I have a secret weapon as well: STAYING UP LATE BY MYSELF, one of life’s great pleasures. Hey coffee, see you at dinner tonight.
It’s a rule that as soon as I make a statement, I have to prove it or recant. So recently I said I wasn’t working to start traditions and I was going to ignore Martha Stewart. Now let’s discuss how every Christmas I make Lucinda Scala Quinn’s stuffed shells recipe from Martha Stewart Living.
The recipe was in the magazine a few years ago as a holiday dish that could be made ahead and frozen, so into the freezer they went. They’re delicious. They saved Christmas lunch when the meal I was going to make bombed- bombed like it was a new recipe and would have fed two people, not 10. After that, I’ve made the shells in early December and we eat them at some point during the holidays.
The best part is that the recipe calls for placing a little piece of butter on top of every shell right before you put them into the oven. Because they only way to make pasta filled with cheese more delicious is to add a touch of butter.
Stuffed shells are an insurance policy. It’s not so much a guarantee that I’ll have free time to lay by the fireplace with a new book and a bag of Cheetos as a guarantee that even with three small children, we’ll have a nice meal.
We used to sit around the dinner table, look at the empty chair on the end, and wonder who the person would be who would sit there. Now that little person is a year old!
Holly “picked” Southwestern Salad for her birthday dinner. Basically we know she loves chips and crackers.
When Holly was a baby, her Aunt Kelley started planning her outfit for her first birthday party. She made a tutu and- I’m calling it a fascinator instead of a bow- and totally dressed her head to toe in finery. Holly was the fanciest, cutest, sweetest, toughest, strongest little one-year-old in town.
On Saturday, we had lunch with family and godparents to celebrate. The adults (“the help”) hung around in the kitchen or outside and the kids’ table was the dining room table. Smart kids.
We couldn’t have asked for a more beautiful day, more friends and family to love our children, or a more wonderful one-year-old. Holly, we are looking forward to getting to know you more and more every day!
Most Likely to Destroy the Christmas Tree: Professor Longbottom and Holly (tie)
It appears that they’re working together, because the professor will get into the tree to knock small glass ornaments right down to Holly. No worries though, because we secured the top of the tree to the curtain rods with fishing line, ensuring that if they take down the tree the curtains will come with it. A kitten, an almost one-year-old and a Christmas tree…interesting combo. So far, it’s going surprisingly well.
My friend and neighbor Tiffany, officially the nicest person in the world, and I spend a lot of time sitting in her driveway watching all our kids ride bikes and run around. A few years ago we both did a bible study on the book of James, so our conversations often drift onto the topic of faith and works. For the past few months we’ve been talking about that in terms of Christmas.
Tiffany and I are in similar situations: Houses filling up with kids, but no desire to move away from a street full of wonderful neighbors who are often outside and usually willing to strike up a conversation in the driveway. All the kids in our two houses really seem to need are their bikes and books read to them. Each new baby means more snuggling, feeding, bathing, teeth brushing, flossing (Are you kidding me, pediatric dentists? There are truly only 24 hours in a day!), book reading, car seat buckling, and little bear finding. How can we have a true Christmas celebration with our children, one that is festive and true to our faith? For me, it’s not enough to be bullied by Best Buy and Target and do whatever I feel like, then say “Happy Birthday Jesus” one time on Christmas day.
There is a very nice woman I see once a year at most, at a mutual friend’s Christmas party. She buys her kids gifts earlier in December, so there’s no gifts on Christmas day, and on the 25th their family decorates a birthday cake for Jesus with as much candy as they can stick in the icing. That sounds like just about the last thing I want to do to celebrate Christmas, but –gasp- everyone is different! Faith is personal!
So this is what’s happening this year for our family:
We’re going gradually. It’s a personal preference, but I like the Advent calendar popping up one day, the nativity another, saving the best Christmas movies for a few more days. For our family right now, 2014, two boys and a baby, too much all at once is overwhelming and results in crying. My sister’s family has had a rough year, so they put up their tree and pulled out all their decorations as soon as possible as a way to jump start some good cheer. We’re getting our Christmas tree this weekend and we’re all excited. What brings joy to your family?
Our lives are constantly evolving. Our family is different this year than it was last year and different than it will be next year. So trying to make or start traditions is wasted energy for me. Things will evolve on their own. Besides, half the traditions I remember from growing up probably only happened a few times. I remember having omelets every year on Christmas Eve, but when I mentioned that to my mom she said she thought we did that about twice. She just wanted something quick that we could eat after church before getting everyone into bed. That conversation really took the pressure off. If we do something different every year, so be it.
I love Santa Claus; I cry in movies like Elf. Santa does different things for different families, which is completely cool. Way to be adaptable Santa. At our house, Santa brings one gift per child and fills stockings. But the kids know that we can also sneak things into stockings, then Santa can add to it. It’s my dream that the kids will make things to sneak into everybody’s stockings before bed. Instead of Santa buying candy, maybe Rush could make cookies. The kids want to be generous and I want to encourage it. This year Trent and I are working together on a gift for Holly, so the boys are going to let Santa know that he doesn’t have to bring a toy for her this year.
I’m happy we can buy gifts for our children and family and we’re just trying not to go crazy-unnecessary-overboard. Gift giving should be difficult (I think that’s Tiffany’s quote). Giving a gift means thought and effort and love. It takes time and energy to either find the right gift or make it. Handmade gifts are tricky, because the idea is so alluring. Handmade! But if it’s thrown together or something the person doesn’t want and/or need in the first place, then it’s just a gift that they can’t really get rid of without crushing guilt. I’m guilty of giving those kinds of gifts. Sorry. Working on it. There is so much joy in making a gift. To me, it’s part of the preparations, the waiting in expectation. Also, I’ve created a gift-making sweatshop by leaving too much until December.
Handmade FOOD gifts? Yes, please!
I’m trying to ignore Martha Stewart, Pinterest, et al. I would love to have all sorts of fancy finery, but here’s what I’ve learned: No one actually gives a damn. The kids are just happy to be here. Ask anyone in my extended family if they remember any nice detail from Christmas at our house and they’ll probably get a glazed look in their eyes. I’ve made pumpkin tiramisu and people are too stuffed from eating Christmas cookies. I’ve strung ribbon and bells through the edges of a tablecloth and people take it off the table to play board games. Through experience, I’ve learned that my extended family –both sides- wants the following: grandkids, a Christmas tree, free flowing alcohol, and clean bathrooms.
A valuable life lesson from my parents, taught by example- gifts for friends are great, but go out of your way to recognize a broader circle. Don’t just give gifts to your coworkers, give gifts to the woman who works in the parking garage.
We’re trying to Be Aware and Dig Deeper AND BE GENEROUS. There are a lot of ways to be generous at the holidays, food drives, toy drives, etc. A former co-worker had a list of mantras at her desk and one was, “I always have plenty to give.” I fail at it frequently, but I’m trying to remember that in all circumstances.
Church. The thought of Christmas without church services, without listening to carols while cooking, sounds bleak. Shocker- I actually invited a non-churchgoing friend to a service. The power of texting as a way to make things less awkward! Historically I’ve been more successful at growing the church by physically having children and bringing them with me than I have been about inviting friends. But when I started thinking about what Christmas would be like without church, it made me depressed. So come on everyone, you’re always welcome.
Here’s what it all comes down to for me, and I don’t know what to do about it, but I’m trying: In a sermon recently, the priest said he doesn’t worry about heaven and hell, he worries about meeting God and being embarrassed for committing more sins than were necessary. THAT is what I worry about, meeting God face to face and Him saying, “So, this is your understanding of the Incarnation?” and showing me landfills and sweatshops and loneliness and hunger. And I’ll stammer and He’ll just nod his head like, okay, sure, yeah, explain away. Making the rougher places plain, huh?
“Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.” James 1:27
My great-grandmother, Albertine, emigrated from Norway to the United States sometime in the first few decades of the 1900’s. In the Norwegian part of New York, she met Nils Svendsen, my great-grandfather, and they were married. They had two young sons when Nils died. Albertine worked as a seamstress to support her family and would give my grandfather things to stitch to keep him busy while she worked. At least one piece of his embroidery still exists in the family, and I plan to steal it from my sister if possible.
I’m pretty positive that my great-grandmother was not proud of me today. Based on my grandpa’s personality (Whadda ya mean you want my corned beef recipe? Do you have the Betty Crocker cookbook? Just look in the damn cookbook!) I’m imagining she was thinking this:
You think I left my country for a better life so my great-granddaughter could try to keep two little boys occupied with a needle and thread while she sews?! Jesus Christ!
For Rush and Tate’s first Christmases, I made them dolls. Speed for Rush-
and Nate for Tate-
After the initial Christmas morning hug and kiss, Speed and Nate have been largely ignored. I’m working on Ivy for Holly’s *second* Christmas, although “working on” is being used generously. I finally cut out the fabric today and it’s a bad sign that I’m not using these free moments to get a little further in on that project.
Time will tell if Ivy is less neglected than Speed and Nate, a nature vs. nurture experiment. Holly is a girl, so there’s that…and she’s also a girl with two big brothers.
