A Living Nativity with a Lively Family

The other morning I drove by a local Southern Baptist and saw a notice advertising a "Living Nativity" this week. In my attempt to really soak up the last week before Christmas, I decided that paying a visit to a live nativity certainly needed to be put on our calendar.

Last night was the night! Even though the church was less than a ten minute drive from our house, our kids were poking each other, fighting, making obnoxious noises and sounds, whining and incessantly talking. It wasn't exactly the most peaceful, harmonious atmosphere in our car as we pulled into the church parking lot.

We arrived at the church as last minute preparations were being put together for the nativity and so we sat in the car and waited. Big mistake.

Megan was trying to find loose pieces of Drew's clothing that he had taken off whilst buckled into a car seat. Luke and Ellie insisted on being within inches of Megan's personal space while doing aforementioned task, Drew was whining about having to wear shoes and socks, Joshua kept wondering aloud, "When are we getting out?" and Luke kept anticipating every animal that would be present as a truck and trailer were being unloaded nearby. I was sounding like a broken record as I repeated over and over the reminders of how we act in public, especially at an event such as this.

Without warning Joshua announced, "We should sing 'Away in a Manger'!" First of all, that is my favorite Christmas song, and secondly, we have done a nice consistent job this last week or so gathering together each evening to sing a good Christmas classic. Of course I couldn't resist him. Joshua, Ellie and I immediately began singing, to which Mike declared a loud "time-out". Mike insisted we wait until Megan quit declaring aloud the absolute disappearance of Drew's red sock and Luke quit the loud speculations of which animal would exit the trailer next.

It was worth the wait. It was quite a poignant, mystical scene. Seven of us bundled up in coats, gloves and hats sitting in our suburban singing "Away in a Manger" whilst facing a simple re-enacted scene of the Holy Night centuries ago. It was a respite in its truest form from the contention and energy of the past few minutes. Some of us sang off-key, and some of us on-key about the little Lord Jesus asleep on the hay.

Do not be fooled thinking our evening continued on in that manner. As soon as the song was finished (although all 3 verses I may add), the familiar sounds and activities of our five children returned.  As touching as the nativity portrayal was, it wasn't the calm and spiritual event I had imagined it to be.

Someone's sucker (gifted from a Wiseman) had a wrapper that wouldn't come completely off, someone needed a garbage can RIGHT.NOW., an inpatient child couldn't wait for the hot chocolate to cool down, someone was freezing and wanted to get in the car immediately, someone wondered how much longer, and someone couldn't stop talking about the nearby donkey and goat.

As important as we truly believe the birth of Jesus Christ to be...

The simple manger scene held nothing in comparison to the fact that there was a GOAT just feet away. The goat stole the show for the boys in my family. I'm not sure Luke even glanced in the general direction of Mary, Joseph or Baby Jesus.

It ended up being one of those evenings we chose to have family prayer in the car on the way home to spare having to be together any longer than necessary upon arrival at home. Drew was insistent Mike "top diving" (stop driving) and his pleas didn't stop for several blocks. Drew confused our family prayer for personal prayers and more than once we heard him say "Jesus Christ, Amen".

We tried.
I tried.
And despite the fact our five children put a few dampers on the event, it was one of my very favorite things we've done during the Christmas season.

I hope the local Southern Baptist's decide their first Living Nativity was a success. They can most certainly expect our attendance next year.

Whether they want us or not.

The Annual Visit

I rounded everybody up on Saturday afternoon for a quick trip to the local country store to visit with Santa. Two of our family members were less than thrilled to be going, but kudos to them for coming along anyway.

I guess at this point I should mention that I believe every child should sit on Santa's knee. Tears and fear aside, it's part of Christmas. Kind of like me being obligated to taste-test mince pies as a child. Mince pies, Santa's knee, you get it. There's no saying no.

Except Drew was PETRIFIED and so I momentarily bagged the individual knee sitting chats for a group photo in hopes of warming Drew up.

No such luck.

After everybody else had their turn sitting on Santa's knee, Drew was still sitting in a big chair across the way declaring, "Want go home." I was not about to let this little boy escape telling Santa Claus himself, his little wish that he has been declaring to us for days, "Santa bring me truck."

I was feeling mildly rushed and was very conscious of the fact a mother behind us was waiting patiently in line with her TWO children, while my FIVE children were individually sitting on Santa's knee and smiling for mom's camera. (Excuse the fact that nearly every picture is blurry--I told you I was rushed!!)

Yet despite my mild consciousness and guilt of the two patient pre-schoolers waiting behind us, I HAD to get Drew to sit on Santa's lap. Yet all my pleading and cajoling was not working... Until I remembered Santa had candy canes in the big barrel next to him that he had just passed out to the other kids. (Guess Drew's fear had momentarily left him unaware that his four siblings were each holding a Drew sugar favorite.) Just as I finished up asking Drew if he wanted a candy cane he hopped down from his safe haven and approached Santa. Santa must have thought Drew terribly brave and further asked, "Can you give Santa 'five'?"
Well what do you know--Drew obliged.

As Drew was returning to the safety of the other side of the store, Santa really got Drew's attention. It is at this point that I must mention that Drew is a bona fide hypochondriac, so when Santa brought attention to the owie on Drew's head, Drew was caught hook, line and sinker.

(Remember my mild guilt of making the two patient pre-schoolers behind us wait? By  now it was rapidly turning into major guilt--thus the pictures started getting blurrier.)

And then, what do you know?
Drew started chatting with Santa about the owie on his head.

And then before you know it, Drew was sitting on Santa's lap chatting with Santa about the owie on his head like he was his best friend!

After the owie talk had been well and truly exhausted, Drew made his humble request for a truck, then wishing Santa a "ree-ree Istmas" Drew hopped down off Santa's lap.

And that my friends is why I force the issue of sitting on Santa's lap.

Santa and Jesus

Remember my article that caused some to think I thought Santa was all Christmas was about...
Click HERE to read my thoughts on what Christmas is really about.

Don't you love the weekend before Christmas?
Hope you have a good one.

Oops-A Little Early

The Night After Thanksgiving...

Mike's parents are serving an LDS mission in Washington DC and in anticipation of being gone for Christmas, they left presents for their grandchildren and children left behind. The day after Thanksgiving we had a family party with Mike's siblings and their children. For ease and scheduling reasons, Mike's sister arrived with the oversized  sacks full of Christmas presents for the parents to take home and have ready for Christmas.

(Remember the year's worth of birthday presents they gave to us back in January when Mike's parents left on their mission? I will have you know, each child opened their assigned present on THEIR ACTUAL BIRTHDAY. As for me, well yeah, you can read about my birthday present HERE.)

And so, what do you do on a November evening with a bag full of Christmas presents?

Well first of all, you know darn well before long a child is going to innocently ask if we can open them now. So you say very uncertainly, "Well it isn't Christmas. Maybe you should ask what Daddy thinks." And then Dad rolls his eyes and Mom starts all sorts of rationalizations, and the children are looking with big, wide open eyes and almost-smiles as they anticipate the conversation steering clearly in their favor. And then Dad rolls his eyes again and says something along the lines of "Whatever!"

Cheers are heard from everyone, as each child sits patiently awaiting a present to be placed on their lap. And then Dad, restoring some power and control suggests that each gift be opened one at a time from youngest to oldest.

And because it is NOVEMBER 25th not DECEMBER 25th the excitement and enthusiasm of opening the presents from Grandma and Grandpa seem all the more sweeter because they aren't lost in the shuffle of an assortment of other gifts on Christmas day.

Tractors were zoomed down the tile floor, dangerous boy ideas were being read, notecards were being written on, stickers were being stuck,  and a soft blanket was not let go of for hours.

But then you have the problem of exactly how and when the children say thank you. Because you don't want them to do it that night, because clearly the presents were not intended for another month. But then you worry that Christmas Day will come and in the thrills of new presents on Christmas Day it might be hard to remember the specifics of presents a month before. Even though at the time there was some serious excitement about each one.

Considering three weeks later the gifts are now gently used, including the tablecloth that has served me well three times already, now is probably as good a time as ever to say...

Thank you.

And we're sorry.
And we love you.

I can keep secrets and I can be trusted.
But I can't refrain from opening presents early.

That's all.
Merry Christmas!

Advent Calendars, Karate, Loud Children and an Unwanted Elf

Tonight was a crazy night. My kids were all over the place--and I don't just mean the bouncing off the walls. We had poor sports in a game, unkind words, bad manners, tears, made-up jokes and obnoxious behavior. Of course we had company over to witness the whole spectacle. Except these people are really great friends, and it was such an enjoyable, relaxing evening that hopefully they'll only remember the good stuff.

(The pics and write-up of the dinner will come later--when I write about one of my favorite December traditions.)

Anyways--while our children were practicing karate moves in the center of our family room, (Which incidentally I have never seen our kids show any remote interest in karate until tonight when the adults were trying to have a conversation.) I rolled my eyes and *accidentally* spoke my thoughts aloud: "I can't wait until Drew leaves on his mission."

You know what that would mean, right? Means Mike and I would be in the empty nest stage-- that typically I try to never think about because it makes me cry, and instead I long desperately to freeze time.

Yeah well. Not today. Tonight I briefly dreamed of a quiet, peaceful December Evening with just my husband and I enjoying the company of others.

And then our wise friend interrupted me about wanting to fast forward time and said (in essence), "Oh no you don't. You should see my parents." (His mother just graduated into the empty nest stage this last fall, and things are far too quiet at her house.)

As the conversation steered somewhere else, I momentarily thought of this empty nest mother that I am barely acquainted with, and wondered for a second what a typical evening may have been like for her fifteen years or so ago with her six children at home. And even though I felt momentarily envious of her life NOW, my old typical sentimental feelings won, and I realized I'm really not ready for it to be quiet just yet.

And so despite the chaos, excitement and over-zealous behavior around here lately that seems so wearing some days, there are so many things I don't want to forget about THIS December, while my kids are THESE ages.
**Ellie's paper chain she made at school that has kind deeds or Christmas to-do's on it. It seems she takes it off at such inopportune times. Like the time she was supposed to "set the table for mom" just seconds before company arrived and it was clearly already set. Or the one where she's supposed to sing "Away in a Manger" and she proceeds to sing it to me while I'm talking to someone on the phone.

**Our advent house that Nana and Grandpa gave us last year. A cute little Victorian style house that has 24 little doors in it which open to retrieve a little surprise each morning. Too many mornings in a row when they checked it, Mom had forgotten to put anything in. So to get ahead of my game, I put the next three days in all at once. Yep that would be 15 pieces of candy Drew ate in one day!!!!!! (5 kids=5 pieces of candy x 3 days) So much for that bright idea. I now walk into the dining room and put the candy in just as someone laments there is nothing there. Not exactly the way an Advent calendar is supposed to work. But seriously 15 Rolos in one day is kind of a lot for a 2 year old, so what else am I supposed to do?

**Speaking of Advent calendars... My mother gave us a beautifully packaged Christmas Countdown with 24 nice little packages tied up with ribbon. Each little package contains five little pieces of candy and a nice scripture reference with an accompanying activity and/or question to ponder. It's not exactly going too well. To start with, we're kind of on an every other day thing with it, and then when we do remember, the kids forget whose turn it is to read and open it. Somebody inevitably cries and Mom's patience is predictably hanging by a thread. We've yet to really feel the spirit of how I am sure it is intended to be done. We still have 12 more days to go, we can always hope they go better than the first 12.

**The &@*% "Elf on the Shelf" that has become a source of contention tradition to find each morning. The Elf, named Jingle mysteriously moves spots each night (except some nights he doesn't and Mom scrambles to assure the children, "Must be because he thinks that is a good spot to watch your behavior and he has decided to stay there for 2 (or 3 or 4) nights in a row." Without fail, each morning Ellie finds Jingle first and declares to everybody else where it is. To which we hear, "Ellie, don't tell me. You never let me find it." or "I've never found it first why does Ellie always have to blab it?" Consequently, Ellie has received strict orders with dire consequences if she tells where the Elf is. So instead, she'll say something random like, "Hmmm-that would be funny if Jingle was on the fan and it turned on and he flew across the room." Which naturally causes one to look in the direction of the fan and VOILA there in the clear line of vision is...THE ELF.  And VOILA--we have some contention. All the while Ellie maintains her innocence that she "did not say where Jingle was."

**The train that I just had to buy for my two little boys who will be grown up before I know it. Enough said.

**Drew singing "Jingle Bells" and Joshua's obsession with Santa's reindeer.

**Singing a Christmas carol around the piano the other night with every single person joining in happily. (Okay so I admit, we did have to start over 2-3 times to get those happy participants.)

**Ellie's off-key, yet tender version of "Silent Night"

**The altruistic planning, shopping, choosing and wrapping that each child has shown as they ready their gift for the sibling whose name they have drawn.

**The excitement in the air with five young children at home during the Christmas season, that I know without a doubt, I will one day miss.

Happy December!

A Goat Wedding

To make a long story short, Hank had a room-mate move in the other night. Except the room-mate isn't just any old room-mate, it is a pregnant goat.

At least we hope she is pregnant.

It's kind of a long story, I'll make it quick.
Paul (Luke's mentor) was disappointed Luke wasn't able to sell Hank at the County Fair. Not that he doesn't like Hank, or want Hank living over there, (Au contraire!) he was just disappointed that Luke wasn't able to get a return on his investment and experience 'raising a goat to sell.'

Insert into the story an injured goat that Paul's son Clint found in the middle of nowhere a year or so ago, and gave a home.

Paul figured that homeless goat could become the mother of baby goats that Luke could raise and SELL at next year's county fair.

Luke and Mike picked up the goat about 6 weeks ago, and introduced me to her on the way to her "Goat House." (Really, what should I call that type of place?) The poor thing didn't even have a name, so I promptly named her Hazel, and off to* find a boyfriend* she went.

Luke informed me "She will come home after going through three cycles." He knew enough to (somewhat) know what he was talking about, and now he knows even more.

Thursday afternoon, Luke made me stop by Hazel's "temporary residence" to see if she was available to come home yet. Friday morning he begged me to take him to go and get Hazel. My response?

"Nowhere in my job description did it say I would transport livestock around town. That is Daddy's department. Ask him."

It was like waiting for Christmas morning for Luke! But finally Saturday evening, just as the sun was setting Hazel was introduced to Hank. I don't think it went too well.

Even though I have never been one to believe that animals should be treated like humans, I have found it slightly scandalous that a pregnant goat was moving in with Hank. So Sunday morning, just hours after Hank and Hazel's first night together I walked over to visit them. Luke was screwing down Hank's roof in final preparations for the impending wind storm. Pulling a red ribbon from my pocket, I informed Luke that is was time for Hank and Hazel to be married.

Poor Hazel was scared to death already of her new home, and was certainly showing some nerves as a 10 year old boy used a power tool above her head, and so as a result, Luke decided that trying to attach a red ribbon to her horns for a wedding ceremony wasn't the most nerve-settling thing we could do for her. And bless Luke's heart, he tried his best to brush her horrible snarled fur, but she'll have to get used to that gradually.

After trying our best to get them to stand together, I decided that I could pronounce them "man and wife" just as well with them three feet apart as side-by-side.

And so I now introduce to you, Hank and Hazel, husband and wife.

I don't doubt we are in for all sorts of adventures now with TWO GOATS, one of them likely pregnant!!

(Even though I record plenty of funny things on my blog that my kids say, I don't really think it would be appropriate to declare so publicly what Luke ran home telling me yesterday about Hank and Hazel. But believe me, I absolutely did record it in my personal journal. It's funny. Like laugh out loud funny. Sorry I can't share.)

Adult Reading Only

***Warning--Do not have a young child reading this over your shoulder please***

So I've stirred up a little bit of a controversy over at KSL's website this morning with this article...

I was asked to write an article about "The transition from Santa to reality..." You get the idea...
Here's my response to the comments that clearly have a few people riled up.

#1 I wrote the article clearly under those guidelines. I was not asked to write an article on "The true meaning of Christmas" or about Jesus. I understand those parts of Christmas, and I actually was assigned an article along those lines that will be at a later date.

#2 Parents are concerned their believing children will read the article. Excuse me? What child of believing age really needs to be on KSL's website unsupervised. There are a lot of news stories completely inappropriate for a young child to be seeing.

#3 I have never understood the whole if Santa isn't... than how can Jesus be... argument. Just don't get it. I have been a believer in Santa, the Easter Bunny and even the Tooth Fairy and have never once doubted the reality of Jesus Christ.

Now, far be it from me to burst any young child's bubble, but I felt as though I accepted an assignment to write for and in an adult forum, and I would feel terrible if a young child read my article.

Obviously, I won't be showing that published article to my children. And fortunately, Megan is the only one of my children that occasionally reads my blog.

You can click HERE to read the article.
Merry Christmas!