We've spent the last week or so staying up late and sleeping in. We've had our fill of homemade fudge, and I taught Bubby how to smoosh the peanut cookies "just-so" with a fork. I dropped out of Advent crafts and activities the last three days, and I grew weary of the picture taking earlier than that. I started to feel guilty about that, but quickly got over it. The last thing I needed was to become legalistic about Christmas activities.
Our Christmas was quiet and simple and beautiful. Christmas Eve was not so much. We attempted a service at a different church, and they weren't very Christmas-y. Plus, Bugaboo cried for the first twenty minutes in the soundproof parents' room, so what was the point of staying? The church also gave my children FunDip. It was in their activity package for the six and under crowd. Apparently they wanted their sanctuary covered in cherry flavored sugar because our car was covered in blue raspberry dust on the way home.
Thankfully, Christmas was easy, just as it should be. Slowly watching the boys open presents, french toast casserole that was ah-maz-ing, assembling toys sent by grandma, making a lasagna instead of big turkey dinner, friend stopping by to eat and play and relax. It was all good. I have told a few people, "This is the first Christmas in about two decades where I did not cry."
And that is a sort of a Christmas miracle of its own.
*Just a couple more days on vacation mode. Preschool starts again on Wednesday. (And all God's people said, Amen!)
|(I love how imperfectly perfect this picture is. My kids are not morning people.)|