Little Bits: Real Love

People often comment that my girls look so in love, so best friend like all the time. I smile because I know how much they mean to one another. The "I love you's" I hear from the back seat, the secrets they share huddled together in the playroom, the way I've seen one take up for the other when other kids do or say something cruel. I mean, Alysse often wakes up singing, "Hope and Ma-ee, Hope and Ma-ee" in the sweetest sing-song voice you ever did hear.

Yes, they love each other. They really, really do.

Until those moments, I always joke, when they really don't. :)

They are sisters, after all. And though I never knew the blessing of having one, I imagine that pushing each other's buttons is part of the love and the memories. Those are the things they'll laugh about years from now, the things that make them know that they are safe with one another. Because one thing I know is you have to have people who are there for you... when you are perfect and lovely and when you're irritable and messy. Their consistency and unconditional love teaches an important lesson... I love you for you, all of you, for the rest of your life.

Or, in their case, until you take my favorite stuffed animal or insert my name into a song without permission.

More December in an assortment of snapshots:

:: Our little elves helping deliver goodies to the neighbors while those cinnamon rolls were still warm... hopefully just in time for dessert.

:: With one special delivery down the street to the firemen. Something Hope's wanted to do ever since we read a book on American heroes.

It's safe to say that my kitchen has been a perpetual state of big, fat mess with a big, fat side of butter.

:: Sometimes our Advent means making or baking, but sometimes it means thinking about those shepherds and worshiping like they did.

Thanks for grabbing the camera, Hopey.

:: We have a pretty small tub these days so usually Joe bathes the big girls and then I follow up with Alysse. This night we switched things up and realized it was one great idea.

Leesie, please don't lose that belly laugh any time soon. Oh and pretty please don't stop singing, "Hap-py baby" for whatever reason your little mind started doing it in the first place.

:: I love books and try to make them as accessible as possible. In fact, the older I get the more I feel that way about most special things... what are we saving all that for anyway? That said, I love that Christmas books only come out once a year. Though those stories need to stay with us all the year long, their pages whisper sacred when shared only on cold December mornings.

New Twist: The Grinch Who Ate Christmas.

:: Favorite game? Playing "Heidi" (Oh, Shirley Temple!) with the Christmas gifts.

This lasted until Aunt Andrea and Uncle Paul's gifts almost met their untimely death.

:: Speaking of gifts, these little glam stocking stuffers never made it out of my purse and into the attic. Which means they made it out of my purse and on "Gigi" in the blink of an eye.

What can I say? She's a multi-tasker.

:: A chili night with some new friends that turned out to be old friends of Joe's! Leave it to God.

I really get my girls. The shift from really, really don't to really, really do is just a part of life. What I mean is, sometimes we all have hard days even when we're trying to do things that are "good." Like trying to get a dinner to another new mom, all the while the kids are grumpy and hungry and the hubby can't get away from students worried about their final exam. Like already being late to deliver and running to put one of the three in the van, while wearing a crazy tank top (meant only as an undershirt), and your old male neighbor walking up to carry on a conversation as you are mortified but try to act normal and talk about his grandson and baking cookies. Like saying "darn it" and being reprimanded by your three and four year old finally enroute to the mama's house until you realize you forgot part of their dinner on the counter. Like when you holler at everyone for your own mistakes.

For instance.

See, though, that's the beauty of real love. The next morning comes and you take faces in your hands and you say, "Yesterday was full of poor choices, some from me and some from you, but know what? The Bible tells us that His mercies are new every morning!" Then taking those mishaps and pretending to crumple them up into a ball of nothingness as we make promises to try and be our best us today, to be kind and thoughtful to one another.

The giggles and flush of red on big and little cheeks alike easily tells me.

I love you for you, all of you, for the rest of your life.
~Katrina

Little Bits: A Swirl

Wednesday's snuck up on me this week and my mind's a swirling. There have been many big decisions for loved ones this week, many messages or situations with folks prompting me to ponder this and think about that, many opportunities from here to there as the needs of others can be so great and more realized this time of year.

Even still, it's been a good week as should be the case for any week that you get to look upon the faces of those you love. And since I'm done thunk out at the moment, my bits are pretty short and sweet as we usher in more December memories. It will be nothing if not a random assortment of little loves.

:: There's not too much I dig more than our girls and a great Children's Museum.

:: Except maybe our fortunate downtown museum spot + our awesome niece and nephews who we got to spoil for an entire weekend.

:: Exhibit, somewhere 'round about G, of those spoiling efforts.

:: Counting down to Jesus' birthday. If you look closely you can see signs from the school Hope made us one afternoon-- she had centers and the works!

:: One of the cutest Advent projects thus far that the girls loved. Old pillowcases, miraculously working old fabric markers, and a little puffy paint... a sweet reminder of the truth in "Away in a Manger" each time we lay our own heads on soft pillows at night.

:: Real holly bushes in our yard.

See them tucked in our porch fence? For me, it is so the little things. Like how our house now looks from the street because of the bright red berries.

:: Literally being grateful each morning when I pull this girl's feet out of her footed jammies and they are still small pudgy kissables.

I miss baby toes when they're gone.

:: Spontaneous gift making makes me smile, even if I almost tried to sabotage this one leaving our house. What a retelling its pages held.

:: A gingerbread date to make tiny cottages. Cutie pies.

And I don't mean just the houses.

::Bedtime sillies and the conversations that follow as I often lay in the bottom bunk with Maddie and eavesdrop.

Seeing your kids sleep by the twinkle of Christmas lights has to rank as the 8th wonder of the world.

So funny how a little bit of feeling swirly can try to sneak in and steal your joy. Looking back just now though, I am grateful that there was a lot of it up for grabs. All I needed tonight was the reminder to take it back right away... bit by bit by bit.

~Katrina

Bits: What Christmas Looks Like

Through their eyes. With a little practice, you begin to notice things this way all the time.

Like how important it was to the girls that I let them wear some of my "fancy" (fake) necklaces out to get pancakes the other frosty Saturday morning. Like how cute they looked for Joe's work party, everyone in a combo of black and red plaid and smocking and ruffles. But really, how much happier everyone was when we hit the van and I let them strip down the frills so all those chubby toes and short legs could be free. Like how meaningful it was that I let them wrap at least two of our Angel Tree gifts "all by myself" because they just loved what they had picked out. The tape, the wrinkled paper, the mess... they saw beauty in every last imperfection. Like how they get obsessed with certain things, especially our passionate Hope, and I give her "the look" followed by a frustrated reprimand as I try to help everyone all at once-- then I see the flash of hurt on her face and think, "I sure could have handled that better."

To be able to see this way is an incredible gift of parenthood, to keep the good things going and to see where other things can be better. And to see through their eyes at Christmas...

Why, how do you put it into words? My bits today are to try:

::It looks like... eating cookies and drinking the first hot chocolate of the year, extra marshmallows please. It is the sound of broken ornaments that little hands tried to hang and the pulsing joy of placing that star way up high and the chaos giving way to happy silence when all the lights go out except the ones on our finished tree.

In addition to the family ornaments, each child gets her own box of special ones that I find each year to represent something she achieved or loved. Happily, nary a one of these bit the dust!

::It looks like... testing the limits that one branch can hold. So far we've got about five ornaments, but the experiments continue every day. They are my girls because they can barely contain their urges to touch that which is so lovely.

::It looks like... the manger scene becoming the most popular toy in the house. Mary, Joseph, and Jesus sometimes have company-- snowmen, Little People friends, stuffed animals-- but the plots are always rich and riveting.

FYI: Turns out cookies aren't just for Santa. After putting the girls to bed the other night I came down to find some wooden ones left for the Holy Family's midnight snack.

::It looks like... Pandora tuned to this station or something similar pretty often throughout the day.

::It looks like... picking up special snow pasta for our tree decorating night dinner. Half the package with marinara, half the package with pesto-- red and green right there-- only to hear a most matter of fact four year-old pronounce, "But Mom, snow is WHITE." Too late for alfredo.

Guess you can't win 'em all. :)

::It looks like... our own personal Rudolph girl. Sister is determined to keep up with Sisters, even at the expense of many unsteady high climbs and fast running wobbles. I assure you, Mommy cried more over this misstep than she did.

"Cheeee!" And where is that hair clip again, Missy?

::It looks like... having a few presents for each girl stashed up in the attic. It looks like imagining what their faces are going to look like on Christmas morning and practicing major self control not to go on up there and give it all away now.

Sister Store! A fave new tradition where the girls do extra chores and earn "bucks" to "buy" each of their sisters a gift from a makeshift boutique in the attic.

::It looks like... holding a sick baby by the twinkling of lights that made the girls declare that this will be, "THE best Christmas EVER!"

::It looks like... lines for a Christmas play scattered throughout our house. The sideways phonetic spelling making it so much better than perfect penmanship.

::It looks like... remembering Christmas pasts when this same little playwright, just months older than her baby sister is now, began those dramatic dabblings.

::It looks like... still struggling to be a morning person, even after all these years and all these babies.

Oops, wait. That's through MY eyes. And, for the record, I make a mean comeback around 10 am.

::It looks like... baking and crafting and being aware of every light you pass on the road and every decoration and every story that tells you just how deep and meaningful this time of year should be. Ironically not really because of the baking and singing and lights and decorations, but because of the message itself-- the truth that a tiny baby changed everything.

See who's pulling up her chair everywhere she can? Happy, new sayings from her this week: "Gingle Bells" and "Wock the bye baby" anytime someone or something rocks her. Also the singing of songs with about every third word, "Tinkle staw, won-er you are."
{Twinkle star, wonder you are}

::It looks like messy, beautiful, imperfect, forgiveness seeking, deeply gratifying... love. Which may be exactly why it's so hard to put the privilege, the joy into words.

~Katrina