Oh, this is just so beautiful. What a perfect, perfect way to start December and my morning! At the end of this post is a youtube video of a gorgeous, touching Christmas song called “Do You Have Room?”, written by Shawna Edwards. The bulk of the post is the back story explaining how the song came to be. Enjoy!
A few weeks ago I sat on the floor with the kids, and thought a huge windstorm had blown up out of nowhere. It had been perfectly calm minutes before, but now sounded like the wind was so bad the trees could blow over into my house. I opened the drapes and saw no wind, just birds.
In the fall here, we have birds. More birds than usual. Lots and lots of these loud, enormous groups of birds (starlings?). I grabbed my camera too late, and here you see just some of what had been there seconds before.
For a few weeks each year, the huge group of birds covers every branch in those trees at one time, plus the roofs of at least five houses, fence posts, and more. Jacob wondered if there were one hundred.
“One hundred times ten”, I told him. They must have been Hitchcock’s inspiration.
I think about how so many small things, when working together, create a noise so loud I’m sure there’s a natural disaster about to happen in my neighborhood. And that’s what I’m trying to teach my children.
You alone are small and can do a little to be helpful, to be of service. But a little is something. And when you do a little, and I do a little, and your brother and sister and dad each do a little, it makes a bigger difference not only in our home, but in our neighborhood and the world we live in.
(I think I just found our Family Home Evening lesson for tonight.)
The dishes are done, and pumpkin decorations are gathered on the kitchen table waiting to be ushered down to the basement until next October. The harvest spice candle has been topped with a lid, and the Christmas pine candle is burning. Ever since we converted to an artificial tree (this will be its 3rd year), adding the scent of a fresh tree is non-negotiable.
I went to bed last night and was oh, so thankful to be surrounded by soft sheets and warm blankets. I love sleep, I like my bed a lot, and it would take a guaranteed free 60″ flat screen tv to get me out of my bed between 10 pm and 6 am, let me tell you.
The kids watched the Macy’s parade for the 3rd time this morning, and Miracle on 34th Street is about to end. We’ll turn on Christmas music, bring up the Christmas boxes, and deck our halls.
Merry Christmas!
p.s. 10 yummy left over turkey recipes here
Today is busy. Holding sick children (yes, again). Disinfecting everything in sight. Fighting with the ipod to get the podcasts to show up so I have something to listen to while cleaning the house – when not rubbing backs and holding kids. Madly cleaning the house – we have declared Thursday and Saturday as family days that we are guarding tightly since we haven’t been able to spend too much time with Nathan lately. But if relaxing at home is the plan, my house must be clean clean clean or else I won’t be able to sit down, and relaxing will be out of the question. I take after my maternal grandmother that way. (Ainsley takes after her with crazy hair.) I just realized I need to clean the craft room “guest bed” off for my brothers arrival from far away Salt Lake tonight (it’s piled high with Christmas decorations) and actually open the fridge to see if I have the makings for a Thanksgiving dinner, which will hopefully not consist of Gatorade and toast.
Happy Thanksgiving Eve to you. The storm before the calm.
Saturday, Nathan and I dated. He’d been gone, and we missed each other a big lot. The children were not happy we were leaving them, but we believe in marriage first, kids next, and so off we went. (Plus, it’s not like the kids are missing out on any fun and love from us, let me tell you.)
After we picked up the worlds best babysitter at 5, we made a mad dash for In-n-Out. The ones in Draper and Orem opened this week, and I thought it was worth giving a shot to see if we could eat a piece of heaven that night. Nathan wasn’t as excited for dinner as I was, since he had eaten at In-n-Out less than 24 hours earlier before he got on his flight to come home. That one in Oakland, near the airport? PERFECT place for a last meal when you’re leaving California.
Heavenly dinner was a no-go. There were probably 100 cars in line at the drive through, and the line for the dining room wound way outside into the chilly night air. At 5 pm. We drove away, and I was a little bit sad.
Then we went to a mall we hardly ever go to, for Nathan to try on watches – the first watch he’s had in years for him to peek at the time somewhere other than his phone. He tried on watches at lots of stores. And we did lots of shopping. Presents for Christmas, ties for the boys, and a watch for Nathan.
We decided to try In-n-Out one more time on the way home, since it was 8 now (we had to be back for our sitter to catch a movie).
And the lines were worse.
So we grabbed soup and a sandwich to eat at home, and sent the babysitter to the movies.
I love this babysitter. BUT – I have to clean the house up a bunch before she comes over or else she cleans up after me and then I feel embarrassed. I wish I could pay her $20 and hour, but I can’t. Can I tell you how much I love to come home from date night and having the dishes done from kid-dinner and toys picked up? I LOVE IT A LOT.
We went upstairs and found Dr. Joshua Doolittle in bed asleep like this:
And then we raced into our bedroom where we…
wait for it…
it’s juicy…
had a race to see who could gargle with mouthwash the longest.
I lost BUT I had cut mine down a tiny bit with water so I still made it one full minute (but barely). And then today I bought mouthwash that is alcohol free so I can have good smelling breath and no cavities – without the pain.
I love date nights.
Remember how I said we DO NOT do it?
That does not apply to things like this:
the peppermint Joe-Joes and peppermint bark that was in the Trader Joe’s loot bag Nathan brought home from his trip.
I was thinking Santa could totally leave his big red bag in the sleigh when he gets to our house and just swoop down the chimney with a couple TJ’s bags in each hand. That would be just awesome.
Tuesdays and Thursdays are hard for Ainsley. She watches out this window as her brothers leave for school, and she doesn’t move until Josh drives away in the preschool carpool, and the bus carrying Jacob disappears down the street. It’s sweet.
Looking at the top picture reminded me of how much hair I cut off of Ainsley yesterday.
I know.
I said I’d never cut my daughters hair, but I did it anyway. When she has enough hair to make a difference, I won’t do it, I promise. But I couldn’t justify $15 for a couple quick snips. The Donald Trump thing she has going is hard enough to take, the mullett was just a deal breaker.
It’s not too bad – cute, even – thanks to my friends Michelle (who gave moral support) and Marie (who helped cut a few long spots I had left).
So this turned out to be a big week for Ainsley: turning 18 months, having her first alone day in the church nursery, getting five shots at the doctors appointment, and getting her first hair cut. I’m so not ready for her to grow up.
We were in a craft aisle at Wal-Mart, in the new Wal-Mart, which has an absolutely small and terrible craft department that is scattered three places across the entire store.
Have you ever started a post with an aside? (that is how you do it)
I was perusing papers and stamps and such when I heard a little voice belonging to my five year old.
“You can’t make me marry you!”
“Oh yes, I can! I’m going to drag you to the temple and you will be my husband!”
“I don’t want to be your husband!”
“That is TOO BAD!”
And on it went.
I turned around to see the boys looking at this:
(If you had one of those on your cake, do not tell me, please. I really hate those.)
And almost every time we have driven into the WalMart parking lot since that day, the boys have asked to see that “I won’t be your husband” dolls.
(written 1-15-09)
When my littlest one turned eight months old, she found a new tool to help herself drift off to sleep. As I rocked her in my arms, she would sing-hum an almost meditative “om”. Often it started as an “ahhhh” that lasted for a few seconds before she ended with a lounder, punching “AH”. Then she would take a breath and start over. Sometimes she would just hum the /m/ sound.
One January morning I rocked her before her first nap. Her eyes started looking towards her forehead, her eyelids took longer blinks, and she started her meditative song.
“ahhhhhhh…..AH. ahhhh……AH.”
Her head was nestled in one of her favorite places, my left armpit. I lifted my elbow to bring her ear closer to my lips.
“ahhhh….” I chanted with her.
She switched to “mmmmm…”
I followed.
I giggled a bit. A not-yet-toddler not-baby and mother, seemingly meditating together.
“ommmmm….”
While we were humming, I thought the word ‘namaste’.
Namaste: I bow to and honor the divine in you.
We took a breath together, and continued.
“ommmmmm….”
- – - -
It is easy to think of tiny newborns as having more of the divine and less of the world. More spirit, less earth. And then they grow, teethe, wake often through the night, make their will known with loud screams. The divine seems further away. The newborns become infants become toddlers become preschoolers; and by then, well, if I get a 30 second glimpse of the divine in my child each day it sometimes feels like a miracle.
- – - -
My baby’s body relaxed a bit more. Her song got quieter.
“ooommmmmm….”
(namaste)
- – - -
Divine Nature. It’s a value we teach our Young Women, and encourage them to honor that sacred piece of themselves. But outside of that setting, do I often think about the idea? The truth behind it?
We are actual children of God the Father. He is our King, and therefore, we are Divine.
I am divine, as are you, and each of my children.
Yes, my children need my help learning to count, read,color in the lines, and put their shoes away when they come in the house. But how am I allowing the Holy Spirit to guide me in nurturing the divine in my children, and to honor daily that heavenly part of them?
- – - -
Her song became quiet, her breathing slow. I rose from the rocker, placed her in the crib, and then leaned over and whispered in her ear.
“Namaste.”
I was reading a piece today about collections we grow. I was thinking that I’m not a collector, but a few minutes later, I realized that yes! I am! I collect memories. I have lots of places I record memories and stories – personal journals, family journals, photo albums, vacation logs, a couple blogs. Last year we started a Thanksgiving Journal.
I wanted the journal to feel special now and decades from now, so I bought a pretty leather blank book at Barnes and Noble.
On the first page, we had everyone at our house on Thanksgiving sign their names.
You can see we were quite the crowd. ;) We took a picture of everyone at the Thanksgiving dinner table, and pasted that on the next page.
For the past 3 years or so, we’ve done a Thankful Tree or Thankful Turkey where we’ve added new things we’re thankful for each night. After Thanksgiving, I took down the turkey and recorded what was on each Thankful Feather in our journal. Each year I take a picture of the family or kids in front of the door where we put our creation, and I pasted that picture in our journal, as well.
I have to show you an enlargement of that picture. I had been trying to get everyone to look at me and SMILE! They were not cooperative at all, but the boys both leaned in to kiss their sister at the same time and I clicked quick to get that picture. I love it more than a posed picture. We still don’t have one single picture of our family – or even just the kids – where everyone is smiling. I’d like just one!
This year we’re hoping to be at my parents house for Thanksgiving, and we’ll take this journal with us. I can’t wait to watch it fill up through the years.
(our tree so far this month)
