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