Christmas morning - bullet form.

Afton awake from 2:30 -4:30 am in pure "I can't sleep Mama!" excitement. Cedar up at 5:30 am. We pound down the stairs with baby Jesus dolly bouncing in Cedar's arms. When we hit the ground floor - everyone stopped still to take it all in. Pure quiet.

I expected the pandemonium to hit - but no.

They giggled quietly with "Omigosh!" and "Oh, Cool" punctuating the mental absorption.

Afton asked, "Is it my Birthday?"

Only later after the stocking full of candy was ingested did the chaos of indoor rollerskating, toy bulldozer, a balloon, and random Dora/dollie/playdough-ness take place.

Christmas was very simple this year in scheduling and gifting. It felt really good. Quieter somehow. I've now had a chance to really process some of the true gifts and truths I've been privileged to receive.

Christmas morning.

Too legit...

Hoser

As many of you know, I have a fabulous friend living with Levi and I. Her name is Lisa and she tells this story.

"My dad was great at changing the diapers of my sister and I. He made sure we were clean and in fresh ones. Many men won't even help this way. The challenge with my dad is that he hated poop. Being the type of man to find a way, he....found a way. He would dump all the poopy diapers on the lawn and HOSE THEM OUT. Mom's favorite game when she got home from work was to - find all the diapers scattered across the lawn. Thank God we lived in the country."



You know I can't resist a poop story for long.

Barbie

Having a little girl always poses the question of "To Barbie or not to Barbie", does she unnaturally warp little girls minds with unfair expectations and hopes? I'm thinking if we created a Barbie that was more true-to-life it would be "flat-chested, pear shaped Barbie". Maybe with stretch marks...

Pressure

Interesting how pressure steams out the true emotions of the heart. It's so easy to hold things together when life is together. But today as Afton accidentally pooped in my hand (some might consider that in itself birth control) and after I threw the ca-ca in the toilet and toilet water splashed in my mouth, I was able to laugh.

But let's process a morning where I'm tired, coffee-less, QT less, there are internal and external pressures, and something hits the fan. I think that's a good measure of the real me. Some might excuse that and justify crappy reactions because of circumstances, but I have to wonder about that.

Justifying poo-poo personal behaviour just seems like whining if you hear someone else do it...

Manners

For so long I viewed having manners as needed nightmares that were performed for other people. Stiff and awkward people. Or Holiday people.

I don't mean basic courtesies like not grotesquely belching at the dinner table. I mean dinner napkins on the lap, husbands pulling out the chair for their wives, "please pass the...", setting the silverware properly, etc...

Manners are meant to be a form of love. Of hospitality. There is a basic framework set for everyone to find the rhythm within. There are so many aspects of thinking about someone other than yourself (oneself?)within manners.

I'm not truly a fan of formality, but I love making people feel at ease. I'm definitely not the queen of details, but sometimes love is in those details.

What do you think?