All is calm

We did it. Christmas 2014 is in the bag. The boys are napping, the girls are watching a Christmas movie and I am sitting at the dining room table with my cold coffee. Cold coffee is the name of the game for this mama, I don't even mind it any more. 

I am thinking about how important rest is. Last week had so many details, last minute meetings and plans to be executed. By Friday, I admit, I was a frazzled mess. We had church concerts with costumes, school concerts with costumes, class parties, work parties and family coming for the holidays. Everything was fun, I enjoyed the events, but all of the preparation took its toll. I am not a naturally organized person but I have learned to be organized because I hate crisis. Most of the time I can spin quite a few plates without dropping any, but when I get stressed the first thing to go is my ability to remember details. 

The stand out moment for me was on Wednesday. Both of our girls were sick at home with fevers. I was pleased with myself because I remembered to bring presents for the teachers (as a new school mom I didn't get to it last year, I admit it never really crossed my mind). But this year I remembered - yay me! So there I stood, outside the pre-school door, ready to tell the teachers that Alina was sick but "look! I make cookies for you!"

I was a little early, so as I was waiting I noticed the other moms coming to drop off their children with their own presents for the teachers. I also noticed that they had platters of fruit and cookies for the other kids....my mind was spinning because I started to realize that while I had remembered to bring presents I had forgotten one other little detail...it was the Christmas party for the class and I was supposed to bring juice boxes. 

While I was standing there quietly berating myself for signing up then walking away from that clipboard and immediately forgetting, another mom walked up with what could only be described as a cucumber Christmas tree. It was a Pinterest wonderland on a plate. Sliced cucumbers piled perfectly into a triangle, replete with a tomato garland. It just screamed "I took time with this, I planned, perused Pinterest, went to the store, got up early or stayed up late to make this very special little something for my kid and his friends." (Let me pause here to say that if you are a "cucumber mom" - I admire you, please keep it up. I love how you show your love for your kids. We all have our strengths, cucumber trees and crafting in general is not mine)

Forgetting juice boxes isn't that big of a deal of course. The teachers were sweet, they let me off of the hook and made me feel like they understood. But I think the whole moment served as a cruel metaphor in the mom-shame department. It was a moment of inadequacy and it hit at the precise moment when my heart was ready for a good scolding from the "here is everything that is wrong with you" coach in my mind. 

There were a few more moments over the next couple of days... add a couple of frustrating interactions with people, lack of sleep due to sick children and a meeting that went a little sideways and by Friday I was a mess. I was so tired inside and out. The soul damaging condemnation of all of the ways I was not enough during this season had taken its toll. 

I was frustrated and snapping at my family, everything felt ultimate and magnified. I can always tell when I am in a bad state like that when I see my husband and he has stopped, wide eyed and staring at me with a puzzled expression "What happened? Who is this crazy lady tearing around my house? What do I need to do to find my happy wife and mother to our children?" 

He gently said while I was running around the house, remaking beds and getting dinner ready..."You know, they are not coming to see the house they are coming to see us"

I know. I know. I know. 

I hate it when I get like that. I know I am not serving anyone. I know that I am setting a pretty crazy tone. But it is like a bad roller coaster and I can't seem to get off. It just has to play out. Beds still have to be made, mouths need food in them, presents need to be wrapped, events need planning and attending. 

Then somehow, it all works out. 

We feed everyone, we stay up until the wee hours of the morning to wrap presents and build the beautiful toys that we have been scheming about since the summer. Christmas music plays, the children sing their cute songs from school and the boys sing jingle bells in their jumbled and adorable two year old way. 

The kids get tucked into their beds, and we sing our songs. 

"What child is this who laid to rest on Mary's lap is sleeping"

"The first Noel the angels did say, was to certain poor shepherds in fields where they lay"

"Silent Night, Holy Night, all is calm, all is bright"

There in the quietness of our bedtime routine, Christmas happens.

It happens as I look in their eyes as they sing about the Christ child coming to save us from our sins. 

It happens when Alina sings "Silent night, Holy night, God is calm, God is bright" 

It happens when I read them story of the manger, the sheep, the mess, the kings and the star. 

It happens when I tell them that Jesus loved us so much that He gave us four miracles and then they list them in order...

Miracle #1 - Emma

Miracle #2 - Alina - our Christmas baby

Miracle #3 - Isaac

Miracle #4 - Samuel 

They know the story. Mommy and Daddy loved each other very much and they wanted children to share their lives with them, but they couldn't have children until Jesus did a miracle and gave them the answer to their prayers with four beautiful, loud, funny, captivating children. 

Christmas happens when I watch their daddy stay up until 2 AM finishing their dollhouse and train table just to make sure it is all just right when they wake up in the morning. 

It happened when I stood in the girls play room yesterday with grateful tears running down my face because I realized that for the first time in my selfish life I actually didn't care about gifts or anything material because I have a richer life than I could have possibly dreamed of. I was happy, grateful and reformed from my stressed out self. 

It is happening right now, as I sit here drinking my cold coffee in a quiet house with a content family. 

I am at rest. The events of last week are a blur and I really don't care anymore about the deadlines or the details. 

Next year will probably be the same. I can't imagine things slowing down before the holidays. There will still be concerts, company, big dinners and stress. I will need to pull back, remember that no one actually cares whether I am good at cucumber trees or not. What they will care about is whether they have a happy wife/mom/boss/friend/sister/daughter or not. 

Just to drive this point home, my husband prophetically ordered this sign for me in October: 

So, this is Christmas. A time to stop, a time to reflect, a time to be grateful and slow down. A time to put down the phone, set the Ipad aside and listen. Listen when the kids giggle at each other and play with their new things for a whole fifteen minutes before war is declared. 

It is a time to remember how much I love my family. I will not complain about being busy. I feel like being busy raising a family is a privilege that I almost didn't get, so I certainly cant complain about the noise or the mess. What I really want to work on is sitting down in the middle of the mess and the noise and not trying to fix it. Just relish it, delight in it, soak it in. 

These are my own Christmas confessions. I hope that you had an easier ride through the holidays, but if you didn't, you are in good company. Let's back up, take it all in, gather a big breath and be grateful for these beautiful days. 

I pray that you would be filled with a thrill of hope, that your weary world would rejoice. Not just now, but all year. 

If this season has been a tough time for you, I pray that you would find hope, a light at the end of the tunnel, a tail wind that pushes you instead of a head wind that brings delay and frustration. I pray for joy to be your strength and peace your portion. 

Deep breath everyone. 2015 is waiting for us. 

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night. 

These Moments Are All For Me

Christmastime is here. The sun is out, the house is decorated and we have actually managed to keep decorations on the BOTTOM of the tree this year for the first time in awhile. Samuel is sitting next to me playing with his "treasure box", a music box with a Christmas scene on the top. Isaac is running circles around the house at full speed, when he passes me he says either "MOMMY! Me running!" or "Yeehaw!". Alina is at pre-school and Emma is out running errands with Shawn. This is a quiet moment in my world, so I am going to take advantage of it by writing for as long as I can before one of these little guys needs me to wind something, fix something or get something for them to eat or drink.

Boys are so different than girls. Samuel is working so hard to figure out how this music box works, so he will spin and spin, stop the wheel, wind it and start again. He even puts his chin in it to feel it spinning (good thing he doesn't have whiskers yet), and now he managed to get the winding key out of it - pause. ...and back again.

Alina turned 4 yesterday. We had our Christmas play at the church. Emma was an angel (what else?), Alina was a parrot, Isaac was a homemade sheep (courtesy of his dad's newfound glue gun skills), Samuel was the cutest little cow you have ever seen.

I kid you not, Samuel just came out of the play room wrapped in dental floss and proudly exclaiming "TA -DAA". He has unloaded an entire container of dental floss and turned it into a fashion statement. I had to follow him because he went in the bathroom and just as I suspected, was getting ready to unload another container for his floss suit. Well now, this is handy, they are flossing their teeth now as they pull each other around like puppies.

Why so calm you say? Because they are entertained entirely for at least five minutes and I promise to listen closely to make sure it doesn't make itself into a noose. Strangulation by dental floss, try explaining that to the doctor.  This is not unusual, this is my life.

I try to explain the funny things the kids do when I am with adults, but it is so hard to capture. Their faces, a perfect compilation of every family member, with wrinkles in their foreheads and funny little facial expressions. Like Isaac when he tilts his head down, furrows his brow and runs sideways through the house like a superhero. It isn't funny in the telling, but so funny when it is happening.

Or how do I sufficiently explain what Emma does at bedtime? The girls and I sing before they go to bed, and each of them get to pick the songs on alternating nights. Emma always chooses "Somewhere over the Rainbow" - she has great taste in music. So now she knows it well enough to sing along and the other night I had her sing it to me. I admit, I cried a little. Then we told her daddy to come in and listen and he cried a little too.

When they grow it is always met with a little bit of sadness and nostalgia for me. I miss their funny little phrases that get corrected by daily conversations. Alina used to say "Me need oars help", and then one day she just didn't say that anymore I don't even know when she stopped.

Isaac will push through a crowd by saying "Cuse me, coming phrew" - and Samuel, when asked why he is doing something he will say "mmmm...cuz um cuz um cuz". He used to say "What dat do" when he was asking what something was, and now he says it properly. Too bad.

Then they break into something new and I want to do cartwheels. Emma can recite 10 scripture verses with their location in the Bible from memory, and she is learning to read and write. I love the advancing, but I miss my babies.

I love the bits of independence we are all gaining. The boys don't need us to lift them out of their cribs anymore and that is very nice in the moment, but I miss those automatic snuggles that come when they are barely awake in the morning.

Pictures and video are great for helping me remember, but I can't smell their sweet skin or nuzzle their chubby little necks. For now, what I have are these moments when they do such funny things that I can't even put it into words. Those moments. Those moments are all for me.

The other things that are all for me are the piles of dental floss that has been accumulating all over the house while I wrote this, the hand prints on the front window that announces to anyone going by that this is a crazy house with lots of kids, and the dishes in the sink that we didn't have the energy to do last night. So deep breath, my nostalgia time is up.

Merry Christmas everyone. I pray that you have laughter until your sides hurt and at least one moment when everything is so beautiful that it takes your breath away.