Wonderful things

My niece made this nativity scene for me a while back. A good while back, at least 8 years ago. But it has been a while since Dan and I have fully decorated for christmas, and I was so happy to be able to put this up. There are things that bring me back to my childhood Christmas experiences - certain ornaments, certain smells, but this is a new classic. It is one of the few things that as an adult, puts these new Christmases on par with the ones sweetened by nostalgia. Just read that inscription held by the angels, written from memory, the perfectly imperfect memory of a sweet little 6 year old!
It has a place of honor on our bookshelf, in the middle of the living room. The kids love it almost as much as I do. The expressions on these little faces just put me over the moon. The close-up of the 3 wise men didn't come out very clear, so I skipped it, but goodness gracious, I practically cry they make me laugh so hard. It's really one of the greatest gifts I have ever been given, and Dan has given me some really good gifts, let me tell you!
These figures have become part of what makes Christmas, Christmas. I love that they will become part of what my kids remember, they will be for them what a certain little dancing lamb with a golden tinsel tambourine ornament was for me...

We did not have a "normal" Christmas this year, since the twins were sick. The house became a hole of messiness, and we ate peanut butter crackers for Christmas dinner. None of us really had time to think about things; we put most of our energy into fever reduction efforts, so it's only now that I am getting a chance to reflect a bit. "Forever rest" kinda sounds good right now, but it also sounds a little ominous... how cute is that, though. Childhood misunderstandings and mispronunciations are just so wonderful to me. It's still Christmas, right, until New Years?

leaky Christmas, and feverish, but still sweet

Oh, my, what a Christmas. Fevers raging, we skipped the traveling from house to house and stayed home. Poor girls, being sick on Christmas is no fun, but they did have a good time opening their presents. It was probably better to have it quiet and calm, them being the age that they are.

I have wonderful memories of Christmas, all ethereal, insubstantial memories: the smell of a candle just snuffed out, the mysterious shimmer of gifts in shiny wrapping under a lit tree, anticipation pleasantly gnawing at my stomach, and the odd feeling of it all being over too soon, almost as though it never happened... except that I would have a treasure or two to remind me that it did. The look on the girlies faces this morning showed me that they were feeling the magic and wonder, too, and that made me happy. They also sat quietly and sweetly, while we read the christmas story together and prayed before digging in and tearing up.

Tonight, after a dinner of crackers and the administering of Tylenol, we put the girls in their beds and found water bubbling the ceiling and walls in their bedroom. Super. Dan called our upstairs neighbors to make them aware of the situation and ask permission to go in and check things out, as they were out for the evening and he has a key. They responded by laughing. This did not sit well with me. My kids are sick with a 103 degree fever, and they cannot even sleep in their own beds on Christmas night. I know, though, that these people don't have children, much less sick ones, and can afford to be careless about things like this. It isn't their fault that the leak in their apartment was not given the attention that it should have. Grrrrr.

like sandpaper and bare...

ass. yes, that's what I said. It's from a movie, as many of you may know. Referring to 2 people who can't get along, an alternative to "oil and water". But I am using it here to describe a general soul chaffing. I have been rather up and down lately, have you noticed? Perhaps I suffer a bit from depression, or possibly bipolar disorder. or, maybe it's just this stage I am in, where I popped out 3 babies in two years, and I have not quite managed to get a handle on myself, my relationships, and my strategy for getting through a day. I am not trying to be flippant about chemical imbalances, I really am just wondering what the source of all this angst might be.

I am a fundamentally insecure person. Sad, but true. I second guess just about everything that I do and say. It is rare that I come out of a situation and feel that I handled it well, whatever it might be, from an interaction with one of my kids to a simple evening out. I mean really, I recently got out of the house for a couple of hours, with some friends, and a couple of days later, I find myself thinking about the way I acted, or something I said, and I am embarrassed. I think to myself, wow, you are such an irritating person. Ok, while I am writing this, a few things pop into my head that were perhaps good things that I have done recently. Ways in which I have handled myself well. But it doesn't make me feel any better.

Someone recently said to me that it isn't feelings that matter, it's results. But I find that I simply can't agree. If I accomplish something, but I don't like the way I've arrived there ( for instance someone's feelings got hurt, or I lost my temper), it just doesn't add up. The ends don't justify the means. And maybe I failed to accomplish something that I had set out to get done, but ran into some roadblocks... wouldn't it be better to try another way around than to smash my way through, doing damage along the way? Or is that my insecurity popping up again, telling my that I just don't have the confidence to make things happen?

Ok, I know this is an odd, slightly disjointed, and vague post. I'm sorry, truely. But my thought are very scattered. However, my children are all asleep before 8:30! Hooray!

A long weekend is over, oh drat

A quiet moment never lasts long; in fact, I can hear Jude gummily voicing his opinions from the back room... Hey, if Dr Suess can make up words, so can I. I mean really, "punkerish"? "thneed"? somehow, he gets his point across beautifully.

Thanksgiving weekend was sweet. truly. Dan was home with us for 4 straight days, with no obligations. And we had such a fantastic time. I even made it into a few pictures that I didn't take! Amazing.

So now I am going through withdrawal, as Dan is back to work in earnest. he didn't get in last night until 3am, and then the alarms (all 5 of 'em) started sounding promptly at 5:30. Ugh, and today is not promising to be much better. Thank goodness for a winter break looming close by. I am tired of juggling kids. I really had it down with the 2 girls, but Jude just throws a major kink into my system. He is a delight, but it is just tricky being so outnumbered! And these smarties take full advantage. I have not yet grown eyes in the back of my head, and my multitasking skills are pitiful to behold... maybe having eyes in the back of your head amounts to no more than the assumption that IF my child is not in my sight, then said child IS up to something.

And after Harry Potter, having eyes in the back of one's head takes on a more sinister meaning. So, maybe I will make do without them...

There is chicken defrosting in the kitchen, and I am waiting for it to tell me what it wants to be made into tonight. Something sans noodles. I am all noodled out. Watch, I will make rice, or potatoes, and my children will moan, "I want noodles, Mommy!" These kids, man, they sure know what they want. It's to be envied at times, this single-mindedness. Not to be distracted, not to be appeased by less than the goal's accomplishment. I could learn a little something from them. Perhaps I ought to give them more opportunities to show me their simple wisdom.