Jingle All The Way

 

Here's to a happy new year!

(But, of course it will be happy. It's an EVEN year. Duh.)

 

Hear

She had told me she was singing a solo. A few days before the concert, she had mentioned it. Kind of an, 'Oh, by the way...' moment. The all-girls acapella group she's a part of was performing that night. So I knew that at some point, we would see her take the stage.

I really brushed it off to the side as normal. Because this girl singing, is rather typical. She has a voice that I could listen to for hours. So her mention of a solo didn't strike me as unusual. It's just what she does. Well, it's actually what her soul was created to do.

But, that night, the night of the concert, I was unprepared to hear her. From looking at the program, I knew her group was next. So logically, I watched for her to enter the stage. But no one came.

Instead, through the dark of the auditorium, from behind our seats, she broke the silence with her voice. I couldn't see her, but I could hear her. And the moment she started to sing, I knew it was her. No lights from the stage, no written acknowledgement on the program. Just her voice. I felt her. And I knew she was mine.

That moment of clarity has stayed with me for days.
It felt powerful. And it felt like home.

And I'm reminded of the reason we celebrate this month. Of the truth that rests as the foundation of all that we do. That beneath the lists, the stress, the buying and the rushing, there is joy that already surrounds us. There is peace when we take the time to hear.

And we have a Savior who knows our name. He sees us when we take the stage and also when we stand in the dark and raise our voice. At all times and at all cost, He hears us. Rather powerful and a whole lot like home.

In these last few days, the calm before the storm, I hope you take the time to Hear. Because joy is there. It may be buried deep, but it's there.

Listen to it.
And welcome home.

 

A Generous Mother

What does a mother do on the last day before Christmas break?

She puts Rudolph antlers and a nose on her teenager's car. While she's in school.

Just thinking about her embarrassment, freak-out gives my insides warm fuzzies.

Merry Christmas to me.

Christmas Miracle(s)

Child #2 agreed to take a picture.

Without fighting me.

Or being bribed.

I simply asked that she stand by her sister while we were at an ice skating rink.

She stepped in closer and smiled.

Just like that.

I nearly choked and dropped my phone.

***

Child #1's choir group toured the local elementary schools today. Lots of festive singing (I warned Child #3 that she was headed her way). She was required to wear festive clothing to match all that singing.

No words, right?

And it gets even better.

She made the sweater. Darn straight.

I've used hot glue for many things. But never to attach ornaments and tinsel onto a sweater in the shape of a Christmas Tree.

I told her that I really can't decide if this is a proud parental moment.

Want her to come sing at your house?

Let's Discuss

Can we just stop the world for a second and discuss some pressing matters?

Pinterest. Oh, how I love me some Pinterest.
But, here's some truth--it's not real. Not really. Looking at Pinterest is like reading a book. You get to be transported to a lovely place with pretty people and perfect crafts. It's more of a fairyland. A really, super awesome and addicting one.

So, here are my pressing matters. I am in dire straights looking for answers:

1. Will someone please explain this new craze of Maternity Pictures. I mean, they're everywhere. Pregnant ladies standing in wheat fields. Couples cradling a chubby belly. These pictures are definitely not taken with an iphone. No selfies here. That means professional photographers are involved. I'm crazy confused. Seriously. Does anyone out there remember feeling like a rock star when they were pregnant? Rockin' enough to stand in a wheat field and hire a photographer?

2. Tattoos. This one is super-dee-duper confusing to me. I know that people get them. But why are you posting them on crafty Pinterest? Because, let's just be honest. Some of those tattoos, like the life-sized octopus, just make you look like a moron. I mean, really. Who, in their right mind, inks the entire cast of Peter Pan on their shoulder blade? For. Reals. And we aren't even going to discuss the fact that tattoos are kinda like putting permanent scratches on a Porsche. Well, in my case, it'd be more of an old Buick.

3. This last one is hard for me to even talk about. I'm having heart palpitations just thinking about it. Here goes.....Edible glitter. I just saw a picture of it this morning on The Pin. Holy Canoly. Let's take a moment and gather our sanity. Because, you've seen real glitter, right? Nasty stuff. Hate it. It sticks to everything. Everything! So, for the love of all that's holy, why would you ingest it into your body? Just thinking about it almost makes me vomit.

And last, but not least, I give you this. Just because it's so freaking awesome:

Our great friends were at the same choir concert as we were last night. After it was over, Child #2 tried to avoid us at all costs. Until The Bill Man grabbed her into a hug. And wouldn't let go. She kicked. And wiggled. And moaned. He held tight and smiled the whole time. Then The Dad joined in and they squeezed her even tighter. I can't even describe the joy this brought me. I nearly passed out from my glee. I'm a mother who finds great delight in the suffering of her children.

Maybe I'll post it on Pinterest.

The Mouse Trap

Her project for Physics was to create a car out of a mouse trap. In order to earn a descent grade, the car had to travel 5 feet. 5 mini-feet? 5 milliliters? I really can't remember. 5 somethings. My genius is showing, isn't it?

It was determined that she and her friend wanted to make "sleighs" out of the mouse traps. So, of course, because I have so much free-time, I was tasked with hunting down all needed supplies. Well, that's not totally true. She went to Lowe's and bought some metal-ly stuff. Hardware? Is that the right word?

The first car she made last Thursday was super cute. I totally approved from a crafty point-of-view. But it traveled....nowhere. Wouldn't move at all. Her and her friend readjusted a few things, shortened some string-thingy. And it moved....backwards.

So, last night they were on a mission. And as the hours ticked by, they got more frazzled. They both made car #2 with no success.

By this time, the rest of the family huddled around the table gawking like paparazzi. It's was like the ship was sinking and we wanted to watch it go down. The 11 year old threw question after question their way and I had to turn my head so they wouldn't see me laughing. I just couldn't shut it down. It was too awesome to watch.

Once she started building car #3 at 10:00 pm, she announced, "Did you know they just came out with a study that says school is bad for your health....{pause}...I'm totally serious."

And because I can see she is starting to wilt and give up, I step in. I remind her of the discussion we had just days ago. "Listen. You have to get it together. Because my job as your mother is to make sure you don't live with me forever. Got it? You have to get good grades and you have to finish high school. Because if you don't, you'll be with me to the end of your days and I'll make us wear matching sweaters."

Score. Game on.
Car #3.... moves. 5 somethings. 5 milimeters? 5 furlongs?

I'm thinking of becoming a motivational speaker.

Too Tired To Be Stealthy

Christmas time, when I was around 15 or 16 years old, both my brothers came to me one night and said, "Hey, we have to show you something." So, I remained cool and neutral and followed them downstairs into the basement.

They led me to a hallway closet that was locked. The oldest brother took about 2.4 seconds to jiggle and jimmy the door and it opened right up. Inside sat all our Christmas presents. All of them. We got our very first family computer that year. And there it was, in all it's glory. Front and center in the "locked" closet.

The super stealthy older brother also showed me the cowboy boots he would be receiving. He told me he had been wearing them to school for over a week. He put them back into the closet each night. His genius stunned me silent.

I had never even had the notion to go looking for presents. It just never occurred to me as something you could do. I was the perfect child. The envy of all parents everywhere. Truth be told, I still am. Just the other day I told my mom she was "lovely" before I asked her to buy me some candy.

But now I'm the parent, trying to hide the Christmas presents. And guess what? I don't even bother with a locked closet. I'm just too tired.

This is my closet. The one that's always open. I've convinced myself that the blanket makes the presents invisible. M'kay? Just yesterday I realized that I've been meaning to tell my kids "Not to go into my closet". But I keep forgetting. I just might be the most amazing Santa's Helper ever.

If you need a place to store your own presents, my closet still has some room.
And I've got a few more blankets.