The magic of Christmas... Beyond the items.

I felt like I was dreaming, I was caught in between that realm where I was still asleep, but hearing noises from the conscious side. My eyes were still squinted enough to see the darkness that loomed around my horizontal body. I lied there, still, listening to the footsteps which sounded like a herd of cattle outside my door. I finally opened my eyes wide enough to see the clock read 5:10 am

This was Christmas morning...

I cleared my voice, deep enough, so my children could hear me from my bedroom. I asked them to hold off until a little later. I was too exhausted to get up and at 5:10 am, it just seemed so unnatural. Plus, my husband didn't even stir a wink during all this.

My children obliged and I hoped to gain another hour of sleep. But instead, I lied there in the dark listening to them talk ever so quietly to each other. They were guessing how many presents were under the tree and what they received. And, if their elves were downstairs because they couldn't find them anywhere.

Christmas eve passed so quickly the night before. I hardly had enough time to relish in that moment before this next moment arrived.

On Christmas Eve, Santa came to our home, after veering off the Norad Santa Tracker, to see my children. They were glued to that computer screen all day, even had their breakfast in front of it, in hopes of catching a glimpse of a familiar town or city.

And, when he finally sauntered his way through our door, ringing his sleigh bells in his hands, my children nearly fell over (he has come to our home every Christmas eve since my daughter was 4 months old. It's a tradition that begun when my brother and I were little). They chatted his ear off and hugged him immensely.

And before I could capture the moment in my brain, he was hopping back into his sleigh...

So, after 10 minutes or so of hearing my children talk in the hallway on Christmas morning, and myself, not being able to go back to sleep, I told them I would be out shortly and we'll get started.

I attempted to wake my husband like a bear being woke after a long winters nap, then I was met with a, "are you serious?"  response. I walked through the downstairs, turning on every light, since the sun was no where near making an appearance. My husband reached for the camera, pressed play, and we gave them the all clear.

Holding hands, they skipped down the steps and when they turned the corner, they screeched with excitement and gratitude. 

Christmas day is such an elusive day. For children, it's THE day. It's the greatest day of them all. And sadly, it's a blurry mess of waking up, ripping through Christmas themed paper, then the let down of it all being over. 

So quickly...

In our home, we do lots of presents for Christmas. Too many, for that matter. But for us, it works. We do not buy anything throughout the whole year, they only receive on Christmas, birthdays, and Easter. With a random book or craft supply here and there. So our Christmas is their chance to stock up on everything they want for the whole year. And the other beauty of that concept is, my children never ask for toys while we're out. We're able to window shop toys and never buy, because mommy isn't the one they expect things from. Santa is. And with the introduction of our kindness elves, my children are spending their time donating, volunteering, and making gifts for others. So when my children are done with the 25 days of giving/acts of kindness, I feel better knowing they understand that giving is just as great as receiving.

In my home, I thread the line of finding the balance between having the magic of Christmas and not making it solely about presents -when they receive lots of presents. And if you asked my daughter, she would tell you that her favorite thing about Christmas is, decorating the house, making cookies, looking at lights, and doing special activities together...

Gifts are no where on the list...

Because when I look back upon my Christmas memories, I don't remember all the presents I received. Instead, I remember all the family that passed through our doors and the love that surrounded our table. I remember being so excited for my grandparents to drive into town and stay with us for the month. Mostly, I remember anticipating the time frame between December 23rd until New Years day, more than Christmas day itself. Because, that's when the gaudy plastic Christmas table cloth rested on our dining room table and people were randomly placed around and coffee was always brewing and cookies and cakes were eaten. 

But sadly, my children won't have these similar memories of a house full of people. Hell, I couldn't even get immediate family to stay for 3 hours for Christmas day dinner, before they rushed out the door, heading home for the evening. I was still sitting at my table, eating cake, when everyone was leaving...

It seems, gone are the days of people staying for hours after dessert, talking around the table, until late in the night and actually wanting to be around family and making the effort to carry on traditions for the newest generations. Instead, my children only have myself and my husband making the memories with them and passing on traditions of years past.

No, it won't exactly be the same, but the love will still be there. And I hope that when my children are older, looking back on their Christmas memories, they'll remember all the special things we did together as a family. And, that mama tried to get as much family involved as I could, but in the end, we had just as much fun with only the four of us. 

And the magic was just as perfect.

And that, Christmas isn't about what you get or what you give, it's about how much love you have around you. And, how grand your life is, because of the people who make the effort to be there and who want to share all the memories with you. And, as long as you have people around you who love you and care about you, you truly are more rich than any material item can possibly give you...

And knowing that, would be the best future Christmas present,  I could ever receive. 

Quick ramblings of our Christmas week...

The week before Christmas is what we call, Christmas Palooza... This is when we're skipping around like little elves, finishing all the last minute touches and cramming all the details into the last few days. 

Our kindness elves are almost done with their 25 acts of kindness and my children's Play Mobile advent calendar has only 2 days left. And tomorrow, has the best pieces yet.

We kick started this week off by making four different types of cookies, all double to triple batches... This was the first year my son participated the whole time, which was great for him to be a part of it, but not so great for every aspect that goes into the cookie making. To sum it up, his role would be equivalent to a pinterest fail... There was more dough and flour on him than in the cookies and my floor was speckled with christmasy sprinkles beneath his chair. He had fun and truly, that's all that matters. I've learned not to be so uptight with messes and perfection, otherwise, I'd been in a straight jacket years ago... However, my daughter was the one working the dough and pumping out cookies as quickly as I was. She helped a lot last year, but this year, she was pouring ingredients and whipping them up so fast, that I had trouble keeping up with her.

The next day, we rushed home from school to pull off into our local church parking lot to await the arrival of Santa riding on the town's fire truck... After 1.5 hrs later of waiting, the sirens were still being heard across town and we were all getting hungry. Both children didn't want to leave without seeing him and we still had homework to do and dinner that had to be made. That's when I got the idea to go drive around and hunt down the fire truck. Thankfully, we live in a small town where everything is condensed. So, the image I'm about to portray, is based on actual events... We threw the car in drive and headed up the hill, the two front windows were rolled down and the car was silent. We held our heads close to the outside and listened as we gauged where the sirens were coming from. With a few turns and straight aways, I stumbled upon the flashing red lights bouncing off the houses on the right side street. I quickly pulled into the narrow street, cutting off the fire truck, which of course, he proceeded to lay on his horn. Of course he did. I hopped out of my car, like I was a bad guy, who just dismounted from their horse and now is attempting to rob the train. I apologized and told the driver that we were in search of them. That, we were waiting up at the church across town and we didn't know how long the journey was going to be... He laughed and said, they wouldn't hit that side of town for about another 2 hours or so. He then told me to bring the children out so they could see and talk to Santa. Which they did. And they were thrilled. And their parting gift was a stocking full of candy.

And the fire truck ended up across town to where we originally were, 2.5 hrs later. That's a mental note for next year.

The following night, the elves brought my children a gingerbread house to make. Nothing too exciting happened with that. I really expected it to fall apart and become like all the social media pictures. But it actually went pretty flawlessly. Both kids divided up the house, so they each had a side and a door to decorate and tada! It was done... No arguing. No tears... I'll take that one as a win.

This brings us to Wednesday night, this night was our favorite. Although, chasing down a fire truck with Santa riding on top was a close second. We loaded up in our car, all of us were gussied up in our jammies, with hot chocolate in our cup holders, Christmas music blasting through the speakers, and baggies full of homemade cookies in our hands, as we drove around our local town looking at Christmas lights and decorations. Any other day of the week, this would be known as casing the neighborhood, but this week, it's socially acceptable. And even encouraged...

We sang, Rockin' around the Christmas Tree, too loudly and out of sync for most people's comfort level, but we had fun. My children screeched at their favorite houses. And, my son tried to fall asleep, which resulted in us having to drive around with the car light on, like it was an interrogation light in a made for TV movie.

The last night was tonight, Friday. Thursday was spent with my mother-in-law, sipping coffee and eating cookies around my coffee table. But tonight, we watched The Santa Clause as a family. Well, we tried. We were about half way through until the UPS driver knocked on our door with our final package for the Christmas season. This present wasn't a surprise. This was a gift from my mother-in-law to my children, for our new ninja warrior basement we're going to complete after the holidays. This package had a 6 knot rope climb and an 8 ft rope latter (which will eventually be the climbing tools to reach our monkey bars). But for tonight, they were the perfect item to place on the old swing hooks that rest in the beam of my kitchen doorway. So, the movie was no longer important anymore, and my children hung and climbed from these two items until it was time for bed...

Then bedtime came and went quickly, as they both were so eager to start tomorrow's festivities. We read our Christmas stories and my children prayed and prayed that Santa will stop by tomorrow to see them, just as he's done every year prior.

So here I sit, typing away, as my husband is putting together his present that his mother bought him. I stutter step between thoughts as he curses behind me when he can't figure out where a piece is supposed to fit. I laugh, as I refuse to help him. He babbles under his breath to himself. Hell, I wrapped every present and assembled presents, while he watched. So, it's only fair... And things have to balance out some how... 

And, we still have to clean the house before tomorrow...

But thanks for listening to my Christmas week. I know this isn't the typical, everyday storytelling post, that I normally write. But sometimes, I like to switch things up and write based on how I usually am -sarcastic, with my thoughts moving a mile a minute hahaha.  

Merry Christmas and have a wonderful New Year :) 

Mid Week Humor: Cookie thieves

In my home, we have to bake our Christmas cookies within a few days of Christmas, if not, the cookies won't last and at that point, they would just be considered December cookies. And let's face it, there really isn't anything special about December cookies... Motherhood, where the evidence of cookie crumbs rest motionless on my counter tops.

The Happy Days Blog

After a 5 week District strike, we finally returned to school ...

Today, after 5 weeks, our district finally resumed classes. Our strike is technically not over yet. But the teachers did decide to return, even though a new contract hasn't been reached. I personally, don't want to involve myself in the logistics of it all (the negotiations tactics portion) and I don't have an opinion about the debacle between the administration and the teachers. I do however, have an opinion about us being responsible for making up the missed days that we didn't request off in the first place. I understand that it all balances itself out in the end, but in order to make the balance, we'll have our holidays, vacations, and breaks revoked and will have to stay in school until June 30 (our original end date was June 9).

That is my biggest problem of this whole debatable argument that the children and parents are stuck in the middle of...

My secondary problem is the control that districts seem to have over our children. We just had 5 weeks off which were excused absences. However, if I wanted to take my child out for a week of school for a vacation or a family function, those days would be unexcused. Why is that not OK, but the other is? And how did we as parents, allow someone else so much power over our children's lives?

I really think parents should have taken advantage of the public attention this strike has brought to our district and picketed along side the teachers with their requests to reformat the policies regarding who decides what is best for our children. And, to finally make a change with our educational system and jump on board with other top countries such as, Finland, who teach to the child's strengths and doesn't make the child fit the education system. There are great teachers in our district who take the time out to make learning fun, validate feelings within the child, and create a calming atmosphere that isn't centered around tests and performances. But if I had to guess, the district would be happier with teachers pushing solely the information that will be tested on our state exams, which in turn, creates funding for the schools based on high performances. Personally, I think it says more about the District when the child's grades are higher based on how the teachers are performing. That should rank higher, rather than, how a child does on one test.  

Especially since, charter schools and homeschooling are now becoming more and more popular for the freedom of unstructured, unregimented, non test oriented learning that is tailored to child's functional ability, that helps increase success. And some of these children are ranking higher in academics, than the children that are in formal school settings...

However, I did not have a problem with the bonus amount of time that I was able to spend with my child due to the strike. I actually loved having her home with me all day. In fact, I was incredibly sad watching her return through the doors today.

When she woke this morning, she was sadden when we never received a robo call cancelling school. I think she was just as surprised as I was that the Union didn't back out of the start date, again. She held tightly onto me at breakfast and followed me around the kitchen. I made jokes, she laughed -very little. But, we felt the noose tighten, as we drove closer to school. 

We enjoyed our time together. I must say, it was a lovely gift to have during a time when it's not normal or expected. I loved having the option to run out in the snow right after breakfast. Craft in the afternoon. Read some books in the evening. And, fit math problems in between.

I was sad for all that to come to an end.

But here we are, December 19, where our classes resumed, but we're still unaware of all the uncertainties that lie ahead. We still don't know if our 10 day holiday break will be honored. If Easter/spring break will be a thing. Or, if they'll decide to strike again before January 1st, or again in March.

You'd think as taxpayers, we would have more say in where our money is going and what goes on between this situation, instead of lawyers and Union Reps deciding. But, I guess that goes with what I mentioned above, that when it comes to the school systems, they are more powerful than we are as taxpayers...

So for now, I guess we just have to strap on our seat belts and grip tightly onto the handle bars, as we unwillingly participate in this chaotic ride. But during that, I'll take advantage of the unexpected extra days that I'm "allowed" to be with my child. And secretly, I'll pray that somehow, they nullify the 180 days schedule so it's beneficial for the children, because after all, aren't they the ones who it's supposed to be all about anyways?

** I want to reiterate, that when it comes to this strike and negotiations, I'm not for one side or the other. Our community has been severely divided due to these circumstances and I don't want to be part of that. We've had parents acting out and yelling at board members during meetings and even cursing at the teachers on the picket line, and that is unacceptable. We have had temperatures that only reached highs of 15 degrees and the teachers continued to walk the picket line daily. That's dedication... Also, my daughter has been blessed with two amazing teachers so far and I have many friends within the district that I'm grateful for and support. However, until they want to raise my taxes, I'm staying out of it all. Because, my main focus is my child and what is best for her. And I want to bring awareness in how missing these days and taking others away, effects the lives of others besides the two groups that are in the argument. And how eventually, something has to be changed within our educational system... I hope some agreement is made that benefits all the people involved, the teachers, the district, the taxpayers, and the families.

Mid Week Humor: The apple doesn't fall far from the tree...

My daughter: Mama, when we finally get a hamster, only older kids will be allowed to pet her and hold her.
Me: Why only older kids?
My daughter: Because, babies will obviously try to lick her. You know babies with licking everything...

I was unaware that licking hamsters was a problem within the baby community. But thankfully, my daughter is here to bring awareness to it... Motherhood.

The Happy Days Blog

**Disclaimer: No hamsters were harmed or licked in the making of this joke... Obviously, my daughter was being funny. She has sarcasm down, just like her mama. But I thought it was too hysterical of a topic not to share.

In those quiet daytime moments...

Each day when my home is a little extra quiet, I find myself walking the same path through our Christmas filled hallways. I stop for a few seconds when my Christmas music is drowned out, in order to hear the location of where they're stationed. 

I find my son sitting on the playroom floor with a pile of Batman guys surrounding his little body. He doesn't see me in the doorway. He usually doesn't. His little mind is off somewhere in Gotham City, protecting it from evil villians. I linger in the doorway a little longer than usual, as I notice how much bigger my baby boy is getting. His words are clearer and his mannerisms make me feel as if he's his sister's age. I cannot believe he'll be 4 years old in just a few short weeks... When I close my eyes, the image of his sister at his age is becoming blurry with time.

My daughter is somewhere in our home, each spot varies, but the idea is always the same. I find her with notebook paper sprawled out in front of her and a freshly sharpened pencil in her hand. Scrape pieces of paper line the floor beneath her feet. And she's deep in thought, writing one of her many stories that she'll be beyond eager to show me when it's finished. 

And I'll drop whatever I'm doing in excitement to hear it... 

These days are so much different than my days just a few short months ago. They're growing quicker than my mind can comprehend. Instead of being consumed with the words "mommy I need" all day long. I find the air is quieter and vacant. I find myself seeking them out more than they find me. And even when they're being loud, it's not directed towards me. I just happen to be the moving structure that goes about, as they roller skate, play big wheel tag, or play hide and go seek.

How quickly we fall into our routines. I've grown so accustom to this life with them. Their familiar everyday noises and sounds. Even the loudness has a comforting tone to it. And when they go about their day, I still see traces of my babies in them. Like when they're tired and want all the cuddles life has to offer. Or when my so is half asleep and holds tightly onto my hands and says, "never leave me mama." And when my daughter wants to hear the same nursery rhyme melody that I used to sing to her as I rocked her to sleep when she was younger. Those are the moments that keep me sane when I feel like they're slipping away towards adulthood.

This is the part of life where I want to forever grab them and pull them backwards to me. To keep them in my wrap, so they're carried close to my heart and protected. But instead, I drop my hands firmly at my side and watch their freedom unfold. And being grateful for the opportunity to see their ability to grow and navigate life outside of mama. 

But, in these little quiet moments throughout my day, I'll still stand in their doorways, motionless, as I watch them look so peaceful and young. And linger longer and longer until I eventually get caught and told I'm weird (probably by my daughter).

And, accept that life is always changing and moving forward. And allowing them the room to continue in biology's path, is the best mothering gift I can give them. And use those quiet moments to feed my yearning for them to be my babies forever...

Tragedy diverted...

In between the rain drops and the soppy grounds, the sun came out just long enough to warm the air and harden the ground. So much in fact, that our indoor stricken bodies craved the outdoor freedom.

With ourselves packed in the car and no where particular we had to be, since our district continues to strike, we found our way to the local farm to wander.

We walked the grounds and followed our usual path. This time, my daughter had her favorite doll, Curly Shirley, along for the adventure. My children fed the ducks, sheep, Alpacas, and goats while making sure each of the animals all had the same amount of food. They sat on the ground and talked to a duck who was very vocal and followed right beside them, hoping to snag another piece of food. But, the duck didn't look too amused by the conversation that unfolded, he was by far, more interested in the food. My daughter did her usual reading to the baby cows. And, over in the horse barn, they played Santa delivering presents in a vintage horse drawn sleigh to all the animals on the farm. Each of them took turns "pulling the sleigh" and the other, being Santa.

But throughout our walk, my daughter must have dropped her beloved doll without realizing, and we walked away. She has had that doll since she first came home from the hospital and it goes everywhere with her -usually, she carries her in the back carrier, but this time, she decided to hold her. After being at the farm for about 2 hours or so, we buckled ourselves into the car to drive home. It was then my daughter freaked out and realized curly Shirley wasn't with us. So we unbuckled ourselves and ran top speed while retracing our steps. As I silently wished some other child didn't walk off with the doll and take her home. 

We checked every inch of the grounds, my son and daughter running besides me, and my daughter had tears streaming down her face. We stopped in all the outpost buildings and asked the workers if they have seen the doll on the floor or left on one of the counters, but no one saw her. Even other people at the farm were on the look out for Curly Shirley. 

But, as we rounded the last corner by the pig's pen, we saw her sitting high up on the fence. My daughter took off running and pulled Curly Shirley into her arms and repeatedly said, "thank you, thank you!" She must have dropped her while we were talking to the pig and because she's not used to carrying her, we didn't realize she wasn't with us.

And, some lovely human must have placed her high up so she could be found. What an incredible person to take the time to do that. Thank you to whom ever that was. May your day be awesome!

(Her beloved doll with a lipstick stain forever etched onto her lips, that apparently, no amount of washing will ever remove).

Also, because of that person's kind act, it helped as a visual for my daughter. Each time we're out and she stumbles upon a toy or something laying on the ground, I always tell her to leave it where it is, so the person who is missing it, can find it. Either, we'll put it high up (just like that person did with Curly Shirley) or leave it as it was. I always say, it's easier to do that because people tend to retrace their steps when searching (again, just like we did). So, she was utterly happy with the end result and a hands on learning experience took place as well...

So, as we walked back to our car, this time, with tears of joy on her face, she vowed to never take Curly Shirley to a place without her carrier. Not only to keep her safe, but to keep her close to her heart as well...