ahhh Christmas....

   As Christmas time steadily approaches, regardless of that Mayan calendar, I wanted to share a little wisdom on the effect this whole season has on most of us.  Whether you are funding a nation or a notion, everyone is pretty hectic and, dare I say, frantic about remembering all that has to be "done" for Christmas. All those joys of our life like; school functions, church functions, work functions, shopping, wrapping, cards, family pictures, vacations, decorations, "finding that Christmas spirit" (yes, unfortunately that is on the "to do" list for most of us nowadays), baking, cooking, list making, and to top it all off, remembering what in the world you did with last years Christmas gift from Granny. You know, that lovely bright colored reindeer sweater that you cant live without...  Ahhh the joys of the season.
      I don't think I have ever really mastered the art of gracefully flowing through the season with a smile on my face, nor do I think it is attainable this side of heaven, but I have come up with the following theory:  If the love of the people in my life depends on what I do (or don't do) at Christmas, then perhaps I have missed the meaning of Christmas.  My job is to love everyone like Jesus does. Unconditionally.  So perhaps, since it is His birthday, I am giving myself a little leeway on getting that "to do" list done.  I have 24 hours to complete at one time, and I will do what I can in that time.  It will be my goal this year to not be driven by guilt over what I should do, but rather joy over what I am able to do.   Easier said then done, I admit.
     Take for instance the past 48 hours.  I have no illusions that I wont have a "to do" list, matter of fact mine is about a mile long, I want to be able to give everyone a smile and to make it memorable for my babies! (And no, I have not done one lick of shopping: I pride myself in being that crazy lady on Christmas eve that does the mad dash dance through the isles of walmart, singing "grandma got ran over by a reindeer". Because that, my friends, is Christmas memories you cant buy.)   So, with half of my brain working on how this said "to do" list will get accomplished, the other half is left to tend to my poor sweet children. Evidence?  Well,  I have since sent one child to school with his shirt and pants on backwards, sent one with a questionable hairstyle that dates back to the mid 1800's (although I have mastered getting all the kids up and out the door in record time, I do not always check the process in which that is accomplished), I have feed the dogs horse feed (which I got a thank you card from the oldest of our mutts, with a request for a repeat dinner), found my phone in the fridge (and a bottle of wine in the freezer), ran over my sons bike (which I am still seeking counseling for), almost made it home before I realized I forgot to pick the kids up from daycare (don't worry, I would have remembered eventually), and now, coincidentally, I sleep with one eye open and face guard.   (refer to previous posts for details, for me the pain is still too real). 
     So how to maintain this "busy life syndrome" and still smile through the day?  Well, I suppose to each his own on surviving the expectations of the season, but I am gonna try and focus on the fact that I really love what Christmas represents and will not feel guilty that I can do that with a mimosa in hand. :)  We make it what we want it to be and for me, I love the lights, the music, the family time, the chance to show love to those I can and the joy that I get to go to heaven because of what this day represents.  So to all my friends and family, if I forget to get you something, or send you a card, or even give you a call; please be assured that you are always in my heart, and forgive this crazy brain of mine...  I wish a very Merry Christmas to all out there and from my love to yours may it be the best one yet…..

Big lessons through little voices

    So the other morning, as I lay peacefully sleeping in my bed, experiencing those few precious moments of quiet, I had a wake up call that I hope to never duplicate for as long as I live.  It's 5 am, and I have, unknown to me at the time, a small child that has crept ever so silently into mommies bed.  I am still ok at this point, being that he is actually following the set rules that say "don't wake the mom up until the weird buzzer sound box has been hit at least three times."  Good boy.
       But, also unknown to me, is the other small child who, and I should state at this point that he has an unusually large head (this is important to know), is up roaming the halls heading towards my bedroom while configuring a sneak 'attack and capture'.  About this time is where contact was made.  Without any warning, or trumpet sounding, a ten pound, seemingly lead reinforced head, comes plummeting down from the earths atmosphere directly onto my small impressionable nose.  Direct hit.  Bolting up from a dead sleep (while yelling something I have since asked forgiveness for) I open my eyes to find tears rolling down my cheeks.
     I hear a faint voice say in shock "Ohh, I sooo sowey Mommy", just about the time the buzzer goes off. Now a little more awake, I realize that blood is now streaming down from the once usable nose.  Through my sobs (and no, pain and I are not good buddies), I manage to get out an  "It's ok son, but could you go get me some tissues" blubber.  And my once villain now turned superhero, is off the save the day.  So, as i sit there in the dark, tears streaming, blood flowing and tissues flying, I hear the sweetest comment that edified the entire scene and got me thinking.  My little Noah, who is always sure of everything and wrong about nothing says "Oh", in a sweet note of realization, "You cry too Momma?". 
     What a strange question I thought to myself, how does my son not know I cry too.  At what point did SuperMom become un-human?  As a seemingly single mother of three (having a husband who is always off trucking all those products we so need to the rest of the nation), I am also working and caring for a small farm.   I probably have many times in my chaotic life where crying would be normal.  But here is my 4 year old, with a glint in his eye, smiling at me because he sees that I am crying, as if to say "welcome to life Ma, glad you could be like one of us".  Funny how a little bit of humanity goes a long way.  Apparently, parenting is not about always looking like you have it together, or even thinking that you do.  Seeing his relief that its ok if mommy cries too, makes me think its more about being real in life and accessible to give understanding through it.  I am sure that my "have it all figured out" attitude has actually pushed my kids away from me more than given them security.
     I have always striven to be honest with my kids about all things, on a level they can understand.  But in that moment, I understood that my honesty only takes me as far as my ego.  They don't need to think Mommy has it all figured out, that is not real life.  They need to know that when life is too much, its ok to be sad, or mad, or hurt.  Its what you do with all those feelings, that is our job to teach them.  If my daughter grows up thinking that she shouldn't cry when she gets hurt, than I have not been real enough with her.  Life is about all of our experiences and if I pretend the bad ones don't effect us, than I am leaving my children ill prepared on how to handle them.
     How a small act of accident turns mommy into an understanding, reachable teacher is beyond me.  I guess thats what they call finding big lessons through little voices.  All in all, the nose was a small sacrifice for the comfort it gave my know-it-all son.  He is the most like me and I giggle when I think how funny God is to use him to teach me this.  And there He goes again, reminding me that even though I have children off my own, I am still His kid too. 
     So in answer to your question little Noah, "Yes, baby boy, momma cries...."