Look who got caught with her fingers in the…

PISTACHIO BAG!

John loves pistachios!

They aren’t the most inexpensive treat, but he really loves them.

So, Christmas morning, I had carefully wrapped the biggest bag of pistachios I could find!

He opened them and told the kids, “These are mine.  Hands off.”

The man isn’t selfish.  He shares everything he has.  He is one of those men that would literally give the shirt off his back to someone.  He once gave away our own dining room table when my brother graduated from medical school, because Stephen expressed that they had no “real” furniture for the home they had just purchased.

But these were his pistachios.

One of only a few gifts just for him. (Even though I am sure that the game he got the boys will play, the socks will probably be taken by A.J. and the new pillowcases he shares with me.)

So, this morning we were laying in bed listening to some tunes John had loaded, and this is what I saw when I looked over in the direction of the fireplace.

Brooke’s hand in the pistachio bag!

 

But, just like her father, she wasn’t just taking them for herself, she brought handfuls back to these other guilty sisters!

Lovely faces Ellie Jane!

 

I better see what they are up to next!

What time is it?

It’s time to record, for all posterity’s sake, the annual craft I made for our parents, my sister and my sister-in-law  for Christmas.

Usually, it is something little and very easy that I found somewhere along the way throughout the course of the year.

Well, not so much this year.

Not so easy, not so little, and something someone brought to me and asked me to teach a class on at church.

I know.

Those of you who know me well, know that I am not this amazingly talented person in the “crafty” department.

I copy room decor out of a Pottery Barn catalog or something I took a picture of at a model home.

My daughters have more creative ways to decorate their rooms.

Now organization of the closet, that I can do.

But, faux painting on a 24-inch clock with oversized clock parts and vinyl lettering…not really on my list.

Well, someone believed in me, and with the help of  a dear friend, who basically took over the project (in a very good way), the class was a success.

Below are the final pics as I finished the clocks on December 22nd.

Good thing I didn’t wait until the last minute!

    

To the George Baileys in my life…

Today, as I finished wrapping.

Yes, you read that correctly, today, Christmas Day, I was still wrapping.

Wrapping for family that we would visit later.

Tomorrow, I will record the events of the day from start to finish, but right now, I just need to write down the impressions that came to my mind as I watched “It’s A Wonderful Life” while tying beautiful bows on special gifts for the people I love.

I was enjoying the movie.

Just cruising along, loving the casting of the actors, noticing detail after detail of the storyline like I never really had before, and watching children come and go out of the corner of my eye.

I remembered how much I laughed the first time I saw the movie and George and Mary were singing at the moon.  Corny, but so funny to a teenager.  I have to admit that I have had my share of “corny” moments, but never singing at the moon while on a date.

I remembered how I thought to myself that I too, would love to fix up that old house and live in it someday.

I even remembered how weird I thought it was that they practically attacked each other when they realized their true feelings for each other, and how in a moment, they just knew.

But, I didn’t remember just how normal George’s life was.

I had never thought about how truly simple his life had been.

No travel, no education, no accolades, no medals.

Just simple.

A loving husband and father.  An honest businessman who truly cared about the people who he served.  A good citizen and a loyal big brother.

As I watched him go from place to place with Clarence, learning about how seemingly small things had completely altered the course of people’s lives…I began to cry.

I know, crazy mom, crying again at a movie she has seen dozens of times.

But seriously, I thought about the people in my life that have altered it here and there, for the better.

My George Baileys.

I thought of friends who influence my life for the better.  The ones that you love to spend time with, because you walk away from them and just want to be better.

I thought of my sisters who inspire me.  Inspire me to create a sense of style and make my house a home.

I thought of my brothers who constantly remind to keep a sense of humor.  Tonight alone, I found myself laughing over a Superman shirt my brother gave my dad and another brother who spent the entire present opening session teasing my 12 year old over a text she had sent.  I have another brother, who, when he is actually awake and present (basically when he happens to get some shut-eye between rounds at the hospital) is hilarious.  His wife just said last week, “Sometimes I forget how funny my husband is.  I think to myself, I married a funny guy.”

Then I thought about a time when a doctor truly saved my life, and how another doctor saved the life of one of my babies.

Then I thought about how just last week I was vacuuming the car at a car wash, where two of my children were supposed to be watching the baby as I vacuumed Cheerios out of her seat, and a stranger saw my baby wander behind a truck that was backing up.  He saved her life.  What if that “George Bailey” hadn’t picked up Annie?  How my life would have changed forever!

You see, it isn’t the BIG things we do…it is the little things…everyday… that matter.

George really was the richest man in town, not because of the big grandiose things, but because of who he was and what he had chosen to do when those hard decisions came his way.

Thank you to all of you, who have changed the course of my life for the better.

Thank you for making the choice to bless the lives’ around you.

Merry Christmas!

No Place Like Home for the Holidays

As the song says,

“Oh, there's no place like home for the holidays
'Cause no matter how far away your roam
If you long for the sunshine and a friendly gaze
For the holidays, you can't beat home sweet home.”

I believe this.

Not just because I live near family, but because I have lived away.

I remember being away at school as a freshman in college and longing for home when I started to see the Christmas decorations go up all over campus.

Well, today my children roamed.  Not outside or down the street, but down to the basement.

This is what I found when I went looking for children that were way too quiet.

Yes, every piece of furniture (that they could actually move,) every sheet and blanket in the home not in use, and every amenity they could haul was in their little paradise.

It was heaven.  I wanted to move in! 

And I was met with “sunshine and a friendly gaze!”

May each of you enjoy being home for the holidays.  Just think…PJs all day, mom’s cooking, football on the main television, Christmas music in the background, goodies everywhere and family!

Merry Christmas Eve Eve!!
 

Holiday Parties Galore

Some people have beautiful holiday parties at the most suave places in the city.  Adorned with festive lights and exquisitely decorated Christmas trees.

Some people have lovely gatherings at a family’s home in the neighborhood, sharing delicious family recipes from each of their homes and reflecting over the year.

Some people are invited to top floor lofts of the most influential people they know, when they don their very finest wears and set off to impress.

Others are invited to work related functions where everyone brings their significant others, where a meal is served, conversation is hard to balance between work and real life, and the President of the company gets to give their annual speech.

Yet others have simple office parties consisting of potluck and the famous gift exchange.

And the ones, who, with their swimsuit model on their arm, their fanciest tux in the closet ready to go, and the limousine waiting to take them to a festivity where there is no one they know beyond business and certainly no one they trust, but a caviar garnish that is more expensive alone than the average family’s entire Christmas feast is waiting.

We are not these kind of people… (Ok, except for the occasional State dinner where John puts on his finest tux, I, a beautiful gown and the chance to use our Spanish and French tongues.  Sometimes, I do miss those formal settings to speak with influential people who listen with unusual joy about my daily life raising our little ones, and I in turn get to hear about the details of their latest conquest in business or medicine.)

Instead, we get the amazing opportunity to attend these kind of parties!

 

   

With these parties, came sweet teachers, amazing room moms, a gift exchange with classroom money, a Santa game, and all the Christmas goodies you could eat.

Now, who in their right mind would trade all of THAT, for a live band and caviar?

Christmas girls

Today was a good day.  Not a great one, but a good one.

I was just driving home alone, a suburban full of groceries, and a heavy heart.

I had everything from milk for the baby to special holiday cookies that I know John secretly loves.  The seats were filled, the back packed, Christmas music playing on the radio, and all I could think about was, “Why am I so sad?”

It was as though something had happened in the day and a switch had changed in my head.  It was similar to when you are sitting in the theatre and the play is happy and upbeat, and then all of the sudden, the lights dim or the music changes and you actually feel different.  As you sit in the dark theatre, you don’t know what has happened, you can only feel that something has.

I feel as though my heart is actually heavy.  I know that my actual heart weighs only 9 ounces.  Not heavy by any standard.  But today, it felt as though someone had their hand, pressing down, on my sad heart.

I reviewed the day.  Kids up, breakfast, lunches, prayer, bus, all over again for the elementary crew, then email/blog catch-up, little girl reading, sister-in-law phone call, dentist, kindergarten…  Nothing.

Then I remembered.  I took a quick drive up to Sky Ridge hospital to celebrate the birth of a baby girl with my friend.  This friend is wonderful.  She is the most positive person I have ever met.  She took shots in her stomach everyday to bring this little one here safely.  I love being near her.  And today I held her little Addison.  It wasn’t  the holding that jogged my foggy memory, it was her phone call yesterday.

“Hey Laura, I had the baby.  Everything went great!  I went into labor last night and headed in.  They waited for the Lovanox to reverse and then did my c-section at noon.  She is beautiful.”

The conversation went on, back and forth about details.  Her blood pressure, were there any minor complications, you know, the details I love.  Then she said it.  That thing that must have just been sitting there building pressure on that vital organ for 24 hours…”I just wanted to call you right away, because I know you were expecting your baby girl at Christmas.  I thought of you this whole pregnancy, every time I thought of us having our little girl at Christmas.”

There it was.

All of the sudden, at that light just outside Costco, I knew what the heaviness was.  My memory of the dreams I had of having that little girl at Christmastime.

The thought of sitting on the couch, holding her, looking at her newborn face, and watching as the older children tore open gifts.  The thought of celebrating her birth in conjunction with our holiday Christmas card photo.  I had designed the dual purpose card in my mind, knew exactly what tiny Christmas dress she would wear and even the name that would join ours on the card.

But it wasn’t meant to be.  She wasn’t meant to share that Christmas with us, at least not in person.  But she does join us at this time of year. 

She joins us as we put a small wreath or tree on the tiny place where her body lies.  Her tiny 9 ounce body.  Maybe that is why my heart is so heavy tonight.  Because her 9 ounces sits right on top of my 9 ounce heart and it is twice as heavy.

I am grateful for the opportunity to carry her, deliver her, hold her, bless her, and remember her.

So here’s to your Christmas girl…and mine.

O Christmas tree…

“WE HAVE A CHRISTMAS TREE!”  Said an excited Annie through her amazing smile in the car on the way home.  How can a piece of nature bring such joy?

We went, we looked, we spotted, we measured, too big…took it home anyway…and cut off the top!

   

And we all smiled all the way home!