My Faith and Joy… and Boys!

Susie (on right): “It’s her, Mom.  She’s the one who said Sunday morning photo shoots stink.  Not me.” 

Becky: “Who, me?  I’m smiling, aren’t I?  Take the picture already!”

Putting up Christmas decorations was always the highlight of the holiday season for me as a child.  My mom would put on our favorite Christmas records and we’d eagerly unpack the boxes, pulling wall hangings and ornaments out of what seemed to be decades-old tissue paper (that added to the timelessness of the process for me, as if these same decorations would delight generations to come).  I particularly loved the miniature town scene created by my grandfather, the little wooden crèche with the delicate shepherds and crinkly manger hay, and the fabric wall hanging depicting the five golden rings, three French hens, and other gifts from the classic carol.  Once all the decorations were in just their right spots – and these decorations did have specific,  unalterable locations, according to my childhood sense of right and wrong – I could sit back in the dim glow of the Christmas tree lights and marvel at the way our house was transformed overnight into a magical, festive place. 

I didn’t quite have that same sense of awe when I unpacked my own dusty bins of decorations this afternoon, mostly because I was trying to keep the girls from ingesting large quantities of several-year-old tissue paper.  Also, I didn’t have any Christmas music handy, so I had to settle for a CD of kids’ sing-along songs.  And my decorations aren’t exactly family heirlooms; they’re mostly stuff I’ve picked up on sale racks at discount stores that I initially figured would be serviceable until I found the time to carefully select really perfect decorations…only I never did.  So for the sixth year, my chintzy silver reindeer candle-holders will perch atop a shelf, while my chipped Walmart town scene will fill the staircase window sill. 

And now that my girls have helped me set out the decorations and watched me set each item in its spot (not necessarily the same spot as the years before, since my adult fickleness is constantly trying to assess whether the red and green stockings will too overtly clash with the plaid couch), I wonder whether these are indeed the makings of memories for my girls.  I wonder whether they will look back with fondness on my dollar-store Santa polar bear, as I do at my parents’ snow globe.  Maybe my mom didn’t necessarily have to shop long and hard for the perfect wall hanging.  She just brought one home and hung it up year after year, and that made it perfect – tradition. 

So although my current house looks nothing like a Pottery Barn catalog, neither did my childhood home – and I loved it all the same.  Probably more so.  Because what catalog features a doorknob hanger sporting a stuffed animal peeping out of a small stocking?  But that’s what made my home so home-like: all the quirky details that a child can’t help but love.  And judging by the girls’ ecstasy over the decorations we pulled out today, I have a feeling they wouldn’t want it any other way.    

We may not have Jack-in-a-Box restaurants here on the East Coast, but we do offer a special Susie-in-a-Box!

Becky (on left): “I didn’t push her in there, Mom – I promise!”

Susie: “Do I look like I want to be in here?”

P.S. – Susie did indeed climb into the box of her own free will, despite what she would have you believe.

I recently got the girls a Baby Einstein DVD. 

Next, I think I’m going to have to get them a chiropractor. 

They refuse to watch the TV anywhere in the room except for inches from the screen.  They make my neck stiff just looking at them.  Each time I pull their reluctant bodies backwards to give them a better viewing angle, they simply walk forward and resume their front-row position.  I was tempted to turn it off tonight to give their necks a rest, but then I wouldn’t have been able to cook dinner without two extra appendages attached to my lower extremities.  I’d guess I’d rather hire a chiropractor in a few years than feed my family nothing but PB&J sandwiches, which is the only mildly nutritional meal I can make in under a minute with two children screaming at my feet.  Because then I’d probably have to hire a nutritionist anyway to fix the years of damage caused by habitual peanut butter overdoses.  I’ll go with the DVD and peace and quiet and healthy meal…and chiropractor. 

Today was our first full day back home after our trip, and I really wish we were back in Arizona  – and it’s not just because I had to bundle the girls up for our outing this afternoon in fleece pants and winter coats.  We had a wonderful, fun and relaxing time with our family there, and I hate the fact that so many of our loved ones live across the country from  us.  I really wish the girls could grow up spending more time with their West coast cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents and great-grandparents, but I suppose the geographic distance makes our times together that much more memorable and enjoyable.  If nothing else, the fact that we’re rarely all together encourages me to  take lots of pictures to capture the family fun.  Enjoy these Thanksgiving Day photos!

(Special thanks to my sister-in-law Julie for the beautiful matching dresses for the girls)

Becky (on left): “Is there room for both of us to serenade everybody?”

Susie (on right): “I’ll play the right hand notes and you play the left.”

Becky: “I think I ate too much stuffing.”

Becky: “Did you see that turkey?  It was THIS BIG!”

Susie (far right): “Did someone say there’s a puppy out there?”

Susie (far right): “There!  I see him!”

Becky: “Whoa – that’s a jaw-droppingly large puppy.”

Susie: “I think he likes me!”

Susie: “There’s nothing better than a full tummy and my Daddy’s lap.”

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!  Thanks be to God for His Son, and for the love of friends and family!