A White Christmas

After my semi-rant/pity part blog post the other day where I mentioned that Christmas means there should be snow on the ground, we got three inches of snow the following day! That's definitely rare for our city!

Two days prior, our former tutor gave the kids small toy snow shovels for Christmas. I scoffed at the idea of them being able to ever use them in our city! Joke's on me!

As soon as the kids opened their curtains they ran in to find us and announced that they were going to go put their snow pants on, get their shovels, and get ready to go out and play...at 6:30 a.m. I suggested we at least eat breakfast first!
We were dressed and out the door by 8:30 a.m.

My three children handle snow very differently.
The Littlest One apparently isn't very impressed. He was either too weirded out by all the white, too cold to care, or too bundled up to be able to move. Either way, he wasn't digging our play time in the snow!


Every time I set him down in the snow, he'd scream and his feet wouldn't leave their spot.



The Middle, his approach was the opposite. He chose to become one with the snow.



Almost every time I saw him, he was making another snow angel.





The only time he seemed a little less enthusiastic about the frozen flakes, was when his daddy pelted him in the face with a snowball.



But it didn't take long for him to be thrilled about it all again.



And then there's The Oldest.
As soon as we were out the door, she set out on an adventure.



To find what, I don't know, but she was putting that shovel to use.



And her daddy taught her a thing or two about making proper snowballs...of which she later put to good use on innocents passersby.



A beautiful little snow bunny!



She also attempted a few snow angels, but was less enthusiastic about being in such close contact with the frozen stuff!



We found a few neighbors attempting a snow man...



So we combined our efforts....well, no, once we started helping, they just enjoyed watching. :)



The outcome was a midget snowman, with carrot nose and all!





Snow! Such a fun surprise! A white Christmas to fill up our hearts with fun memories!

Christmas...12,000 Miles Away

Our apartment complex decided to decorate for Christmas this year. Well, if you count putting up a poster of Santa on the front door of each building. The vast majority of Christmas "decorations" in the Big Chicken are chintzy, aluminum-foilish, creepy santas, and look like something that didn't quite make the cut for The Dollar Store.



When Christmas time rolls around each year and I'm in Asia to celebrate it, I find myself longingly wishing for the festive street lights,
houses covered in icicle lights,
poinsettias on the Church stage,
evergreen trees that drip pine needles on the floor,
snow drifts so high you can build forts,
hot chocolate when you come inside after building said forts,
fire places with the smoky smell of burned mesquite wood,
baby girls in their fancy Christmas dresses and tights,
Nutcracker plays,
browsing the ornament selection at Hobby Lobby,
attending nieces and nephews Christmas plays,
caroling at the nursing homes,
Christmas candles burning on my mom's kitchen counter,
the beloved Christmas decorations pulled out after a year of hiding away in the attic.

I could go on and on...



My heart desires to pass along these things to my children. To educate them on the "feelings" of Christmas. The smells. The glittery Christmas lights. The aisles stocked full with Christmas goodies, treats, decorations, and colors...
I want so badly for them to grow up experiencing Christmas with the wonder and anticipation that I did as a child. I want so badly for them to wake up on Christmas morning in their Gigi's house and open up a horse blanket and bridle just like I did when I was little. My heart is overcome with grief sometimes when I think of the things they are missing out on.



Truly all of these things are such wonderful gifts. The things that I grew up with, I wouldn't trade for a thousand years. All these memories I have stored away in my head of what it's like to grow up celebrating Christmas each year, I treasure them.

But my children's Christmases are going to look vastly different than mine.

And it's ok. It's more than ok. I'm choosing to look at it as a gift and a blessing that their idea of Christmas isn't going to mean pine tree smells or poinsettias. It's going to mean something completely different than my idea of Christmas. And while my heart struggles with this, I'm choosing to understand the Father's plan in this.



I'm not sure how they'll describe Christmases someday when they are grown and can blog about it all by themselves.
But here's how I want them to understand it.
Christmas is about waiting. It's about preparing. It's about anticipation.
The Savior of the World's birth is coming. So let's prepare our hearts. Lets await with such eager anticipation we can hardly stand it. Lets read the prophecies in awe that for thousands of years his birth was foretold and anticipated. I want each day before Christmas to be exciting, celebrated with songs that have been sung for years and years about the baby's birth that changed history. Lets prepare our hearts to receive the greatest gift God has ever given.



I'd still love for them to come away from it all with gingerbread smells, with stockings individually labeled with their names, and singing Jingle Bell Rock.
But at the end of the day, if that's not their idea of Christmas, it's ok. If they envision creepy poster Santa and chintzy Dollar Store snowmen, it's ok.

Most of all, I just want their hearts to understand the preparation of the awaited King. The coming of God's first born.
And we've been given a gift to be so far removed from the things that mean "Christmas" to me, so we can pointedly teach them the true meaning of Christmas. The reason for it all. The point of all the hustle and bustle should be for Emmanuel, God with Us.



They won't be surrounded by hustle and bustle. They won't be sat on Santa's lap at the mall. They won't grow up going caroling and driving around the city streets to see the Christmas lights. They won't grow up performing as the donkey and Mary in the church's Christmas play.

They'll grow up hosting Christmas parties to share the truth about why we celebrate Christmas. They'll grow up learning the prophecies foretold long ago and sharing about it each day with neighbors that come over and ask what that day's story was. They'll grow up excited to tell the next taxi driver that it's Christmas time and we're celebrating Jesus' birth!

And in fact, this year we'll be in Taiwan on Christmas day. We won't even be in our home away from home. We have to make a visa run because ours expires on Christmas Eve.
So this year they'll celebrate Christmas in another Asian country. And they'll hopefully understand that Christmas isn't about where you are or who you're with.



It's still hard for me to not try to pass along all these ideas of Christmas that I have built up in my heart and mind. It's a daily struggle for me to not try to recreate my idea of Christmas for my kids. Instead I'm going to allow them to understand Christmas in their own way. To grow up with a different idea of Christmas than I did, and hopefully with one that still grasps the point of it all.

"Behold, I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord." Luke 2: 10-11

Which Camera?

We went out for a family dinner the other night at the local Hyatt restaurant. We got all fancied up, put the kids in nice clothes, I lugged along my camera and planned for some fun pictures in front of the giant Christmas tree at the hotel.

I'm not sure at what point in the planning process that I lost all common sense. Because apparently I've forgotten where I live and what it's like to stage a little photo shoot with my children.

Not of their own fault of course. They're adorable, naturally. But all those other cameras pointed at them bring about quite a distraction.



Yep. Not one of them looking at my camera.

Still a cute a cute shot. But really....guys look at MOMMY! not that lady over there...or that one either...nope not her either...no not that guy either...look HERE!!  It didn't work.
Too many flashbulbs going off. Too many ooohhhhs and aaaaahhhs that they were far too distracted to all simultaneously look at mama.

Ok then, lets try for individual shots...



Well, maybe that is asking a bit much of a toddler to not understand which camera to look at.

Eden was more redeeming. She's becoming pretty fond of me taking her picture.



She's also pretty good at saying, "1 Kuai per picture please!" when people ask to take her picture.

And then there's Salem. When faced with a crowd he waivers back and forth between completely annoyed bordering on the edge of ticked off...


and so shy that he gives a creepy smile.



But for "distracted" pictures, I think we did ok!
Next time, I think I'll do better at working the distracted factor into the family pictures equation and opt for the natural lighting in our own home!

The Littlest One

I always used to hear these stories from moms that went something like this...
"I had just stepped away from little Johnny when he climbed up into the pantry and stuck a toothpick into his eye..."
Or
"I was only away from little Joshua for 2 seconds when he managed to plug in the vacuum, turn it on, and suck up his sister's hair..."

All of these stories got catalogued in my brain as "Impossible." "Farce." "Something that doesn't really happen in normal households."

That is, until this little one entered Toddler-hood.



That little mischievous grin. It clearly screams that he's been up to no good. It's saying, "Why yes mom. I did just throw all of the Nativity scene including baby Jesus into the trash can. Well except for these two favorite camels of mine."

So it was on one of those fateful "I-had-just-stepped-away-from-him" days that I heard a large thud followed by an ear piercing cry emerge from his room. We'd just been playing on the rug in his room, I got up to go grab my cell phone in the living room and when I ran back in to find him he was laying at the foot of his window sill. It's my best guess that he climbed up onto his window sill, thought he was superman, and dove off head first.
Because this was the outcome:



A giant goose egg and Australia-shaped bruise stamped on his forehead for all to see how his mommy "just stepped away from him for two seconds."

And then there was this moment that all I needed to do was slap together some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and during that 14.7 seconds he managed to find the dried black beans.



We're still discovering black beans under the counters and refrigerator.

And in only 16 months of life, this boy has managed to give us more medical scares than we thought possible for such a small human being. Excluding his hospital stays with RSV and pneumonia, and the mystery fever when he was just a week old, he continues to perplex us with other random maladies.

For instance, one morning he woke up and his whole body looked like this:



Perhaps because during his free time he takes toys in and out of the trash can.

Oh please do forgive him for that Baby Jesus. And protect the sweet boy please.

Because he sure needs it!!