This Christmas (Donny Hathaway style)

Merry Christmas to all!

"Hang all the mistletoe. I'm gonna get to know you better. This Christmas.

Fireside is blazing bright . . . ."

Thankful Thursday--Creeping up on me again

Just when I start to feel dread because Christmas is coming. When I feel bogged down at the thought of all that shopping. When I get anxious thinking about all the work I need to stuff into the break from classes. When I feel dumbfounded because the entire year is almost over and I seemed to have accomplished so little. When I wonder if there can possibly be enough money to do all the things that come with the season. When cases of the "gimmes" begin to pop up with relentless energy.

Then.

I see Christmas lights on the house of someone who clearly isn't kidding around about decorating and who has the entire house and yard shining bright even as we are driving home from Thanksgiving dinner. And there is Christmas music on the radio, forcing its warm fuzziness all over me. And the games and conversation and food bring the family together and we are a whole, unbroken (rather large and loud) circle again. And the timeless story of divine love for humanity envelopes my children and me, too.

Just when I think I've outgrown the mystery and moved past the miracle . . . I am overwhelmed by the love, the hope, the God who literally goes to the ends of the Earth to find us and save us from ourselves. Just when I'm thinking of enumerating my list of complaints--

The only word that floods my mind is Thankful. Thankful. Thankful. Thankful. Thankful.

Sounds of the Season

The Diva and I might have been the only ones reading this blog last Christmas season, so I'll give a quick recap of the relevant story:

My family and I try to attend a Christmas carol concert at a nearby college every year. It's fabulous. The first year we took The Babydoll, she loved, loved, loved it, even though she was only about 18 months old. Last year, however, was a disaster. And when we tried to go again a different night--also a disaster.

This year we did at least make it in the door and to our seats. Baby Boy enjoyed the music, but fell asleep. The Babydoll must have forgotten to take her medication, though, because she couldn't close her mouth if her depended on it. She asked why they were walking down the aisle, who the man was in the booth, why the lady wouldn't play the harp right now. Just on and on and on. Loudly. She was excited, so I was sad when Hubby took her out, but there was really no other choice.

The other difference this year is that I had low expectations. I brought The Babydoll back in for the most exciting, hand-clapping song and then we left early. It was fine with me that she played in the cafe across the street for half the concert. We'll go again next year. Oh well.

We ended the night, as is our tradition, with a trip to Krispy Kreme. And to all a good night. :)

Meltdowns all around

So, here's something nobody tells you when you have children: It really, really sucks sometimes.

We planned this really nice evening, a tradition we've established of a Christmas carol concert at a nearby college. It's always wonderful and thrilling and my daughter positively loved it, even when she was a baby. She clapped her hands and got all excited. I was so looking forward to it. And I spent a ridiculous amoung of time choosing outfits. I had hoped that we could take our Christmas card picture while we were all in semi-matching holiday dress. And then.

I scurred around getting together a humble dinner for everyone so that we could eat quickly and get ready. The children came home and were slow to eat. It took serious cajoling to get them to finish their dinner, but I pulled them along, knowing that they would probably need a snack while we were out. Then, I dressed them. They wanted to watch a DVD instead of putting on their clothes. Consequently, I had to put my daughter's pants on twice because she kept saying that they were "wrong." Then I did her hair. But that was pointless because she then decided to do this weird thing she's been doing lately where she completely covers herself head-to-toe with a blanket. All of a sudden she jumps up, screaming because she can't get the blanket in whatever weird way she wants it. Her hair is now sticking up. Meanwhile, my son is amping up for his own spiral into madness. He spots the Barney DVD and decides that he must watch it RIGHT NOW. There's another movie in the portable DVD player already, but no matter--he wants to watch the other one. They take turns whining, screeching, and crying. Good times . . . .

After I finally throw their clothes on, I run upstairs to throw on my own clothes. But I can't find the tank I planned to wear. Whatever. I decide that, as usual, I'll just let go of my own need to look like an actual human being. I find something else and try to get everyone out the door. But they are not finished with me yet. There is more crying and screaming. By now the screaming is, somehow, coming from me, too. And dear husband is grinning like a crazy person because he's the only one in the house not losing his mind. Yeah, funny. Of course, this whole scenario probably is funny when you've spent the evening dressing yourself and feeding yourself. I used some bribing to get the children out the door, but in the car they are still disagreeing about which DVD to watch and still on the brink of more crying.

Ultimately, after all of that, we just decided not to go tonight. The concert plays for two more nights. We do have plans for both nights, but maybe we'll try to fit it in. I'm disappointed. My plans for a fabulous, warm and fuzzy evening were totally thwarted. Where are my jolly, holiday Christmas carols?