Advent

I hate Christmas. Isn't that awful? Don't I sound

like a total scrooge?  So, let me rephrase that,

I hate what Christmas has become.

Like every good mother, or elderly person, I have spent the time

leading up to Christmas reminiscing about Christmases  past.

When I started seeing Christmas merchandise in the stores with the Halloween stuff, 

all before the month of October, I would mumble, "I hate Christmas." and 

then proceed to tell my kids about "The good ole' days", when

Christmas stuff didn't come out until

after Thanksgiving. That's right,

AFTER Thanksgiving.

Wow, I'm old.

I hate that I turn on the television and every commercial

talks about spending money, buying toys, gadgets, or cars.

I hate that the underlying message is the more you spend the happier you'll be.

If you buy enough, your family will have the perfect Christmas.

That's simply not true. I mean, sure, they'll be thrilled that morning, at that

moment, but I guarantee you that soon they'll want more, and

before you know it, Christmas will become nothing

more than a binge of consumerism.

Thus the reason I hate Christmas.  Money and things

will NEVER make you happy. Never.

One thing I love about being a mother is the fact that my children

absorb my values. That's a lot of power and a lot of pressure.

What I say, they say, what I think they think.  It's important

to me that they are absorbing the right things.

If I talk about everything that I want for Christmas, how will they

see the holiday?  If I talk about the newest gadget, greatest toy, biggest gift, what will

their values become?

Every year, Jon and I work to teach our kids that things are just

things. Money is only worth what you can do with it, and giving to others

is by far the best thing you can do.  We also work very hard

to create an atmosphere in our house that limits consumerism.

We celebrate the holidays by making gifts for the people that

we love. We spend our time doing things together

as a family.  Doing things together, sharing time

together, and giving to others are truly what makes special

Christmas memories.

For us, Christmas doesn't involve

 running out to buy the latest and greatest anything, because in a day, week, month,

something better will step in and take it's place.

This year, we've made our very own advent calendar.

The kids decorated paper gingerbread men, that we

strung on a garland, and hung on our front window.

Each gingerbread man has an activity that we'll do together, as

 a family, as we count down to Christmas.

The activities are simple, but fun. They're meaningful for the kids, for us,

and they help us all remember what Christmas really is.

Christmas isn't about all the gifts that we can get. It's not about buying something for

someone and then buying yourself the exact same thing, because hey, 

you deserve it. Christmas is about remembering that

one night, God sent His Son, for me, for you, for us.

He sent us the greatest gift we could ever hope for.

He sent us love, unconditional love. So this holiday season,

our family will be giving others love, lots and lots of love.

If you should receive a sweet handmade gift from one of my children,

it's not because we're cheap, or lazy, it's because we have

chosen to make Christmas about giving, really giving, 

from our hearts.

I hope that you too will enjoy this advent time,

and that this year the Christmas season will become a time of showing those

you love how important they really are to you.

Getting Ready For Christmas (Where did November go?)

I spent all of November away from my blog, because I 

 spent the month writing 

a novel. My brother  talked me into participating

in National Novel Writing Month.  I have to say, it was a lot of fun.

I was thrilled not just to write, but to achieve my goal.

Now, the Christmas season is already upon us. I still can't

believe it's December.

The weekend after Thanksgiving, we made

our annual trip to a local tree farm.

It seemed incredibly strange to be hiking through mud

 instead of snow. The day that we went, the temperatures were

in the 60's!

It was the first time EVER that we've gotten our tree

without hats, mittens, gloves, boots, and complaints about

the cold. P. was THRILLED to be the one that

found our tree. Here it is, still in the field.

Baby J. and The Big K. got tired of waiting for the tree

to be chopped down, so they decided to do

some sword fighting. Ah, boys.

After chopping down the tree, it was time

for our tree decorating party. In our

family, everything is a party.  Like all good parties

we had sweets and eggnog!

The kids look forward to chopping and decorating our tree every year.

It's fun to see the older two kids sharing our traditions with the 

younger two.

Celebrating Christmas with the kids is always so much fun!

I hope that the traditions that we share as a family will

be happy memories that all four of them will have

as they grow up and have families of their own.

Just Like Daddy

Baby J. is the only one of our children that

we had as an infant. When he was about eight or

nine months old, he'd get really excited

whenever Jon came into the room.

He'd squeal, bounce up and down, crawl himself

over to wherever Jon was.

Recently, Baby J. took a trip to the toy store to spend

some birthday money.  He walked with Jon through the aisles, 

saw all sorts of toys.  He didn't get too excited

about his choices until he saw a lawn mower.

With glee, he declared "Just like Daddy's."

The lawn mower was the only toy he wanted.

He couldn't be talked into anything else.

Proudly he came home with his new mower, and

then he begged Jon to mow the lawn, so he could help.

Yet another reason I love my husband, Jon took the time

to let Baby J. "help" him mow the lawn.

Needless to say, we have one very thrilled

four year old who LOVES to mow the lawn

"Just like Daddy."

The Men In My Life

We live in  an era where there are advertisements that

encourage men to be "fathers".

Where women grew up being told,

"It's okay. Your child doesn't need a father. You

can do anything. You can be both parents."

I have many friends who are single mothers, whether by choice or not.

It's a job I could NEVER do. It's hard work to be a parent.  I can't even

begin to imagine doing it alone.

All four of my children were born to single mothers.

When they were removed from their single mother birth homes,

they were placed into single mother foster homes.

None of my children had "fathers".

A few weeks ago, Jon thought it would be great fun to go hiking.

I of course agreed.  Together, we hiked a mountain.

I watched as my husband easily lifted our children onto rocks

they couldn't reach.

I listened as he encouraged them to climb.

I watched him, with our three sons, as they took in the view from the

top of the mountain. I couldn't help but think how

fortunate my children are. Not just that the Lord brought them

to a permanent, loving, stable family, but that He saw

fit to give them a father. A man who loves them more

than he loves himself.  A man who does all the things

Dads do with their kids.  A man, who every day, makes the choice to

be their father.  

Holy Smokers

In the words of the Big K, "Holy

Smokers".  Holy smokers it's been a long

time since I've been on our blog.

We have been busy with the business of living this past fall.

With a more hands on school

schedule, a parade of therapy for Baby J., and

four growing kids, we've been plain ole' busy.

I must confess though, that time isn't the only

thing that's kept me away from the blog.

Fall is hard for me.

It's been almost two years since my Mom died.

Everything about the fall reminds me of her.

It reminds me of before she was sick, when she

found out she was dying, and then that

day, almost two years ago when she went home

to Jesus.

I miss her so much as the leaves change,

as the nights grow chilly,

as the holidays approach.

I miss her so much as we get ready to celebrate the 

adoption of our four children.

I think of how much she loved being a grandmother, and how

much fun she had celebrating EVERYTHING with the kids.

Even after two years, life happens,

and I want to talk with her about it.

Even after two years I miss her advice.

I miss her laugh.

I miss just talking with her about everything.

I miss talking with her about nothing.

I don't think a day goes by when I don't think of her.

Don't wonder what life would be like now,

if she were here.

This year is easier than last.  Next year will be easier than

this one.  I don't believe, though, that I will ever

not miss her, not think of her, not want to talk with her.

As my life moves forward, our children grow, another year

enters it's final months, there is one thing

that I remain FOREVER thankful for.

My family. My husband, our children, the home that 

we've made for them, for us,

and for the love that we all share.

Although a part of my heart is missing, although I 

dread the anniversary of her death, the holidays without her,

I remain eternally thankful for ALL that I have been given.

Blasting Into Fun

This week, the kids have been learning

more about the earth, it's layers, it's regions,

and all the fun that goes along with magma,

lava, and volcanoes.

After reading a book about volcanoes, watching

a fun volcano video, and then

learning about geysers,

it was time to make our own geyser.

With some diet soda,

Mentoes, and four willing scientists,

we set out to make our own geyser.

First, I told them about Old Faithful at Yellowstone.  Then

we worked together to make our own geyser.

The kids had so much fun watching the soda shoot

into the air.  Baby J loved it so much

that he started screaming and jumping and then

asking to "make another blast off".

It really was a lot of fun.

Thanks Mom

Long ago, my Mom once told me, "If you get

in a battle of wills with a child. You will lose."

I had no children, I knew I would never lose.

Last week, I wished with all of my heart that I could

call my Mom and tell her, "Thank you."

You see, her words were running through my head.

How right she was.  When you battle wills with a child, they

will out last, out maneuver, out wit even the cleverest of

parents.  I was once again, engaging in a battle with my oldest son.

This battle involved school.

The Big K. is very bright, but he is really not interested in working.

He enjoys everything hands on, and NOTHING that has to do

with memorization, practice, the use of his hands to write.

I can say that it seems I have tried everything, rewards, consequences, 

school bucks. Everything.  In the end I realized that it has to be his decision to work.

I can not force him.  I can make his life, and my life, miserable.

Last week, I removed myself from the battle.  It takes two

to continue a battle of the wills.  I will no longer be participating

in active combat.

I set up some new parameters for his participation in hands on work with

me.  So far, for a week, it's working.  I'm not sure how long it

will work, but I'm so thankful that it's working now. 

With all of my heart, I wish that I could have picked up the phone, called

my Mom, and told her, "Thank you. Guess what Mom?!  Once again you were right."

Happy Birthday (Dad, don't read this)

Today, my Mom would have been sixty!

Even after almost two years, it's hard for me to believe

that she isn't here to celebrate.

That we aren't planning her birthday,

I'm not teasing her about being old, and the kids

aren't making lists of things to buy her.

I sometimes wonder "what if".  What if my life was like

one of those choose your own endings stories.  

At each important point in the book, you, the reader, chose

the direction you wanted your character to go.

What if life was like that. What if, three years ago, as we walked through

the zoo, on her birthday weekend, there was a choice, a point

where I could choose "Move forward with your Mom" instead of

"Mom gets cancer and dies".  

What would my life be like now. Would I have my boys?

Would she still be here to have seen them come back to our family, to watch

them grow.  Would I have the friends that have come to mean so

much to me during this time of loss?

What would we be doing together?  Would I appreciate her

more?  Would I continue to go about my life

taking each day for granted, because I'd never been faced with loss. 

With grief.

Would my life be just going through the motions, if I had chosen the path

"Mom Lives", or would I still saver each second of every day.

 Having lost my Mom, I have learned that life, like time,

is fleeting.  It is a gift.  How you spend your moments really

does matter.  The choices you make, may seem small now,

but in the end they make up your life.

I miss my Mom all the time.  I miss her in big and little ways.  I miss her laugh,

her smile, her hugs.  I miss being able to see her whenever I want.
I miss the late nights that we staid up talking and

talking and talking.

I miss her friendship, her support, her encouragement.  I miss

watching my kids run to her.  I miss her glee

at being a grandmother.

The life I have now is not the life I imagined three years ago

as we walked together through the Bronx zoo and talked about her birthday dinner.

My life today is not what it was.   As we sent messages

to my Mom, as my father and I held each other and cried,

I couldn't help but think of the note the Big K. wrote on his balloon:

"Oma, I really miss you, but we're doing a lot of really fun

things."

That is her legacy.  Fun, family, love.  She would want

us all to move forward, to enjoy our lives. 

To cherish the time we have together, the big and little moments. 

She would want us to be happy.

Happy Birthday Mom.  I miss you.