Christmas Eve

I did not attend church on Christmas Eve for the first time since I can remember.  To be clear, I was at church for several hours.  We got dressed up

 

and volunteered to help in the nursery because it's always a zoo and they have trouble finding help on Christmas Eve.  But the boys were just done by the time we actually got to the 7:30 service. I'm a big fan of "pick your battles" parenting, and once I decided that staying in church was not a battle I was going to fight (especially sitting in the front row), we packed up and headed home. 
My heart was heavy - I do not know how people celebrate Christmas without hearing the message of hoping, seeing the candles lit, feeling the palpable sense of expectation.  And I miss it desperately.  I feel selfish saying that I would rather put my needs ahead of theirs on Christmas Eve, but for one night of the year at least, it's true.  But we headed home.  So in lieu of the church service, we did something we have never done before.  We took a cupcake (thank goodness it was my week to bake for Meals on Wheels and I had leftovers!), put a candle in it, lit the candle, and sang "Happy Birthday" to the baby Jesus.  Thank you for the idea, Expectations Sunday School class!  It's not quite the same as a church load of people bathed in candlelight singing, "Silent Night", but for 2012, this is Christmas Eve for the boys and me.

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.

Christmas Trains

Our boys love them some trains. So when we set out to see Christmas-y things, we make an effort to head to place that involve a train, because that's all they really want to see anyway.
We headed to Christmas Lane on Wednesday night.  They ran right by a giant sleigh that they could sit in, they ran right by Santa, they ran right by a ginormous tree, and they didn't stop until they got to the train.  Micah may be too tall to ride it next year, so I'm glad he got to ride this year.  Here's the train starting off.

They got to ring the bell, which is thrilling.  Micah's in the red shirt in this picture and he's doing the ringing, while Liam is looking out the window ready to wave to us.

I'm really not sure if they even cared if Santa stopped there.  There was a sign that you were only allowed to ride the train twice, and Micah and Liam were thrilled to ride the second time with their friends from across the street.

Here's the pretty tree they ran right past.

I did talk them in to getting in the sleigh, but clearly Micah's attention was on other things.

My friend Sue showed me an article in the paper about a man who lives about 20 minutes from us, and who has restored a real train caboose in his front yard.  Every year, he opens it up at Christmas and Easter for two days for people to come and tour it.  The boys were soooo excited to be getting on a real train.

I managed to get them to stop long enough to get their picture taken by the crossing sign.

And as a bonus, look who we found sitting inside!  This is a bad picture, but they printed one out for us and gave it to us.  Everything was free, which made it even better.

When they boys found out that they got to be in the top where the windows were, there was no containing the excitement.  Liam could see our car, which I think is what he's telling me when I took the picture.

This gentleman has also restored an engine.  Check out the boy running up the ramp to get inside.  He could not wait.

They got to (pretend) to steer the train,

and (really) ring the bell.  The family running this family was so sweet.  I kept asking the boys to take a rest from ringing the very loud bell, but they kept saying it was okay and they were having fun.

Micah standing by a real live crossing gate!!

And then by a real live crossing sign!! (I thought he was going to pass out when they gave him a box of train-shaped graham crackers.)

Steering a little yellow train car, also in the yard.

A cutie pie in a train.

Posing on a bench made partially out of train wheels.  

They are open for Easter.  Those pictures coming to the blog on March 30, 3013. :)

There is Still Hope

Tears are falling, hearts are breaking, how we need to hear from God,

You've been promised, we've been waiting, welcome holy child, welcome holy child.

"Welcome to our World", written by Chris Rice 

This morning, Liam and I made breakfast.

I let him sit on the counter and he got to pick out the egg he wanted.  He dropped that one on the floor and, after a few tears, picked a new one from the carton.  He dumped an inordinate amount of cheese in with egg, and watched with great glee as I folded it, at his request, to make it look just like my own omelet.

Halfway through our cooking, Micah wandered in sleepily, sucking his thumb and coming over for a morning hug.  He asked for pancakes and went to sit in his seat.  Liam and I ate together while Tim made Micah's pancakes.

Later, when it was time for Micah to go to the bus stop, he burst into our bedroom, all crazy-tumbly-five-year-old boy, and I gave him a kiss and I gave him a hug and I told him that I loved him and hoped that he had a really good day at school.  When Liam got back from taking his brother to the bus stop, he came to see me as I was getting ready and he was carrying a box of Matchbox cars.  He asked me to play and I promised that, while I couldn't right then, we would have most of the day to play tomorrow.  Tomorrow.

Still later, when I went to leave for work, I picked up a giggling Liam from the couch and tickled him and heard his laugh and kissed his cheek and put him down, only to have him say, "Do it again, Mommy."  So I did.

It was in all ways an ordinary morning. It was in no way special.  It was a scene that was no doubt repeated many times today across the world, across America, and in Newtown, CT.  The difference is that there are many parents for whom today was the last ordinary morning they will ever have. Those often-harried moments before school were the last precious moments they will have with their child.

What personally breaks my heart is the idea that trusting children, in the midst of chaos, probably cried for moms and dads that never got a chance to come and soothe them and save them, never got a chance to kiss them and make everything okay.  Teachers, who probably understood the horror that was unfolding almost immediately, were powerless to stop the violence or protect the young children that they taught and loved. Administrators, who probably need just as much time to grieve as everyone else, will be thrust into the spotlight and forced to face a question for which they have no answer: why?

As the information comes out and we find out that a kindergarten class and teacher were the main victims, I can't help but think about my own kindergartener.  About all the things he does in the course of his day.  Of how he's learning to write and read and communicate and socialize - how he's learning to learn, and how much respect we have for his teacher who has poured herself into making sure he is a good student and citizen. And I can't let my mind go to the dark places where it's almost impossible to even imagine evil like what happened in Connecticut today. Because I would never stop crying.

Children lost their innocence today. Children who just this morning were so excited for Santa and Christmas and Hannukah. That innocence will never be recovered, and so much is lost. 

Bring your peace into our violence, bid our hungry souls be filled

Word now breaking heaven's silence, welcome to our world, welcome to our world.

In the days and weeks to come, there will be a lot of anger, and there will be a lot of talk - why is there so much evil in the world, what should we do about gun control, how do we help people with mental illness. And really the only question that will be asked, although it will be phrased in countless ways, is how can we prevent this from ever happening again.

The bad news is that we can't.  We can take all kinds of protective measures and pass all kinds of laws and lockdown our children in school every day and wear bulletproof clothing and the sad reality of our broken world is this: as long as there is sin, Satan will win and there will be evil acts that horrify us, break our hearts, crush our spirits, and test our souls.

But that is not the end of the story.

The good news, maybe the only good news besides the number of people who did survive, is that Christmas is still coming.  Jesus is still coming. The hope of the season is that love is on its way to earth.  And it is only that love that can begin to heal the wounds that were inflicted today.

Fragile fingers sent to heal us, tender brow prepared for thorn,

Tiny heart whose blood will save us, unto us is born, unto us is born.

Two thousand years ago, another parent sent his son to earth already knowing that he would need to die as a sacrifice, that he would lose his only child in a shocking act of unimaginable violence. God has been where we are.  God is with us still today.  And we prepare once again to open our hearts to a baby whose blood will heal us.

Until he comes again in final glory and in the ultimate healing, we hug our children tighter.  We put them first.  We put down our hairbrushes and spatulas and computers and spend time with those we cherish most in this earthly life.

May God surround the brokenhearted with his grace, love, peace, hope, courage, and strength.  May the kind of horror we experienced today not win out over joy.  May children who saw only evil today learn again that there is good in the world.  And may love conquer all.

So wrap our injured flesh around you, breathe our air and walk our sod,

Rob our sin and make us holy, perfect Son of God, welcome to our world. 

Liam's Christmas Concert

Tonight was the preschool Christmas concert.  It was the first one that Micah was not a participant in, which left Liam as the star.  Last year, our boy insisted on sitting with us in the audience and cried when he couldn't find us from stage.  This year, our star shined.
He was so excited to sing "at us", to be with his friends, to show us what he could do.

He was so proud that he was up on stage and his brother was there to watch him.

He smiled at us from his seat on the floor with his teacher and smiled and waved at us as we waited for him to sing.

He searched the audience for us and when he found us, he smiled bigger and sang louder.

They sang two songs as a class.  The first one is, "I'll Give God Me This Christmas":

I'll give God me this Christmas,

it's the best gift I can give.

I'll give God me this Christmas,

and for Him I will live.

I'll give God me this Christmas,

from my head down to my toes.

I'll give God me this Christmas,

it's what he wants the most!

The second song is, "I've Got the Joy". On this one the words are pretty obvious.

He stood proudly with his friends and did what he had been taught to do.

When he sat back down, he liked to find a teacher and sit in a lap, because our boy can't get enough of being with people.

The whole preschool

sang, "Jesus Loves Me" and our boy sang his little heart out.

Afterwards he smiled and hung with his buddy Nicolina, one of his favorite friends.

And then he and his brother, fueled no doubt by sugary post-concert Christmas cookies and cupcakes, summoned up the strength to sit with Santa and give him their lists.  To be clear, the things they mentioned to Santa were totally different than the things they wrote on their list a couple of weeks ago. So Santa has some work to do when he gets back to the North Pole.

And they were happy that their dreams and wishes were heard by Santa, taken to some magical elves, and being prepared for a flight here in 11 days.  Liam asked for a big train set (he kept yelling "really big" to Santa after he was done talking to him) and Micah asked for a Nintendo DS.

And after talking to Santa, our little charmer posed with his teachers, Ms. Diedre

and Ms. Deenna.  He loves school so much and they are to thank for that, for teaching him that learning is fun and that he should be proud of the things he accomplishes in their classrooms. We are so grateful for how much they put into their work.

Thank you, sweet boy, for sharing your kind heart and your joy with us.  We're so proud of how you've grown, of how you live so intentionally, how you do everything with passion. You embody the love of Jesus, and we are so grateful to call you our boy.

Choir and Cookies

We're getting ready for Christmas!  Today the boys sang, "Go Tell It On The Mountain" in church. A still photograph of the choir.

This is video from rehearsal so I could concentrate solely on them (well, their behavior) during the actual church performance.

Making the cookies turned out to be a three-day process.  Liam and I made the dough on Friday night using Tim's family recipe, I cut out the cookies and baked them on Saturday afternoon, and then we iced and decorated them this afternoon. 
Liam loves to help in the kitchen so he had fun making the cookies.

Making them was fun - especially since I decided to forgive myself for not checking my food coloring supply prior to making the icing.  So what if we didn't have red icing?  We mixed pink and blue to get purple, so some were Christmas cookies and some were Advent cookies.  Don't judge me for having pink and blue, but no red.

One of these cookies had w-a-a-a-y too many sprinkles...

Daddy and Micah with his finished cookies.

Liam enjoying a purple train.

The finished mess cookies.

Santa is one lucky guy...

Liam fought the fence...

 ...and the fence won.

We were having a lot of fun at a birthday party on Saturday afternoon when Liam had his mishap.  He was riding in a wagon with a couple of other kids, and he fell out - right into the fence.  Wow, head wounds really do bleed.
He clearly did not have a concussion though, so we cleaned him up and took him to the urgent care, which was closer than the hospital.  Unfortunately, they only had a P.A. on duty yesterday, not an actual doctor, so they sent us to the E.R.  The doctor was fantastic, and so was our little patient.  The doctor came in, and said, "So this is Liam, right?" and Liam chimes in, "L-I-A-M".  Then the doctor asked what happened, and I said, "Well, he fought a fence," and again, Mr. Comedian jumps in with, "and the fence won."  (He had heard me say it when I was talking to a nurse earlier.)  He totally had them charmed.

The doctor said they do staples in head wound cases almost exclusively now, due to a variety of reasons including less infection, and they don't have to shave his head.  So I held a pad with some numbing agent on his head, and then the doctor brought in the staple gun.  You know, I can handle a lot of physical things - vomiting, cuts, blood, etc. - but when the doctor uses an actual staple gun on my child's head about six inches from my face (note where the wound is in the picture above and where my face is), I kind of struggle a bit.
Liam was a champ.  He only cried when they were digging around in his hair trying to find the cut, which was about an inch long, and then when they actually stapled it.  The doctor even said to us that, given what he usually deals with in terms of kids and screaming, we really had no idea of how well he actually did.
The doctor gave us a high five, a staple remover tool (for the pediatrician to take them out in a week), and went to send us on our way.  He made it a point to come back as we were waiting for our discharge papers to tell us that everyone on the staff thought our son was really cute.  You know, he didn't have to say that, but at the end of a stressful afternoon, it was really nice of him to say that.
And Liam is totally fine.  All he wanted at the end of his ordeal was a pink lollipop.  He got it.