Merry First Day of Christmas!

Merry Christmas! 
It's the first day of the 12 days of Christmas, and I've resolved to celebrate each and every one of those 12 days. Ok, so some might accuse me of lazy parenting. Not all of the gifts have arrived. Not all of the gifts have been made. A few gifts haven't even been shipped. But hey, we have 12 days to get it all in! And the girls are only opening 1 gift per day, so they won't miss the missing gifts for at least a week. 

But as I mentioned in my last post (hey, 2 posts in 2 days?!?!? What's going on?!?!), I'm appreciating the church calendar more and more, and think it's silly to limit Christmas to one day when it's allotted 12. Too much buildup and letdown. We're attempting a long-lasting joyful simmer instead of a Christmas morning explosion. 

Despite my previously-mentioned Pentatonix obsession, I won't fill each day of Christmas with a new Pentatonix song. But I will highlight one more Christmas song (that they happen to sing) that I've always loved, and to me demonstrates the hopeful joy of Christmas and the resolution to Advent's watchful anticipation. O Holy Night has always had the power to make me cry. I never could explain it before, other than it was just a really beautiful and touching song. But recently I realized how it so perfectly explains the joy and relief of Christ's coming at Christmas. 

O Holy Night
The stars are brightly shining
It is the night of our dear Savior's birth
Long lay the world in sin and e'er pining
'Til He appeared and the soul felt its worth
A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.

Fall on your knees O hear the angels voices.
O night divine O night when Christ was born
O night divine, O night, O night divine.

What was it like to be the shepherds that received the good news first from a multitude of angels? What was it like to be Anna or Simeon meeting the week-old Christ child for the first time at the temple? What was it like to be the Wise Men seeing the star, realizing that the long-anticipated sign had finally arrived? What does the thrill of hope feel like?

I suppose we could ask Syrian refugees finding out that they're being welcomed into a safe community in which to raise their children. I suppose we could ask a military family what it's like to hear that their loved one will be shipping home from a war zone tomorrow. I bet a wrongly-imprisoned inmate who just got their sentence overturned would understand. And certainly prospective parents who get the news that, after years of tense waiting, a baby was born yesterday, theirs to meet tomorrow and adopt. 

Long pining, weary from hoping and waiting. The good news brings a new and glorious morn. The waiting is over. Certainly their hearts are overwhelmed. They can fall to their knees, they can jump for joy. That which they feared is gone. Their worries are gone. The news changes everything. That is the news of Christ's birth. It changes everything. The waiting for a Savior is over. He has finally arrived. Advent is over. Christmas can begin.

I pray that Christmas is a joyful season for you all. All 12 days of it!

Thanks 2014, it's been nice to know ya!

Disclaimer:  Yes, this post will serve as our family Christmas card, a much-needed blog update, and the final blog post of the year. Yes, you can call it "lame", if you'd like. I prefer "efficient". And if you're a family member looking for our Christmas card and haven't read my blog before, check out the "Cast of Characters" page down to the right. I've given the girls all pseudonyms to ensure plausible deniability when they're older. But I'm sure you can figure it out.

2014 was a year of ups and downs, as they all tend to be. We worked. We played. We traveled a bit. But we are all healthy and together at the end of the year, so I call it an overall win. We truly do have much to be thankful for. As I've written before, we are rich. No, we don't have our dream house yet. No, we haven't won the lottery. But we have a comfortable snug home with heat that we can turn up in the winter. We have warm clothes to go play outside in. We have more food than we should probably eat. We have a high-quality and safe school to send our girls to. We have loving parents and siblings that live too far away. We have a loving family of close friends that live a bit nearer. We have friends and family scattered across the nation that pray for us, cheer us on, and bring smiles to our days. We are rich.

And the rest? Well, we're working on a little concept called "contentment".

The girls are just getting bigger and better every day:

HeyMama is 6. She loves to read, loves to do math, and says she wants to be a scientist when she grows up. And no, BestestHusband didn't tell her to say that. But he might be a bit proud... She started playing the piano, and is quite diligent about practicing. She gave a short concert of Christmas music at our friends' house on Christmas Day, and is anxious for lessons to start up again in the new year. She enjoys gymnastics more than ever, and can frequently be found hanging upside down or jumping from things. And she is the most perceptive, doting, and sweet big sister a baby sister could ever hope for. And she likes to talk. A lot. I'm still trying to find a way to bottle her energy. Or just find a mute button.

MeToo is 5. She loves to do whatever her older sister is doing. So she's into reading, math, and maybe being a scientist too. Or a unicorn trainer. Or a dance teacher. We might need to start dance lessons first... She is a child of wide-eyed wonder, finding magic in the most mundane of tasks. "Mama! Come look! I pooped a 7!" And she was right, it really did look like a 7. Other letters and shapes eventually followed. MeToo will interrupt dinner with, "Guess what! I'm having a dream inside my head RIGHT NOW!" She's full of fun ideas and whimsy. She's currently lobbying us to trade her to a neighboring family so she can have a brother.

LittleDebbie morphed into HurricaneDebbie, and is typically a Category 5. At 16 months old, she is already the strongest personality in the household, and that's really saying something... She has quickly learned to communicate her wishes, and this week has decided to do that via sentences:  "I need milk!", "I need Uppa!", "I need Daddy!" She has also learned quickly how to climb up to the top bunk, rock standing in the rocking chair, retrieve things from the middle of the dining room table, let herself out the door to outside, and undo an hour's worth of cleaning and organization in 2 minutes. According to BestestHusband, she is a living example of the Second Law of Thermodynamics. And she makes me want to drink. Good thing she's so dang charming and cute...

The dogs continue to add love, fur, and noise to our household. They have become skilled opportunists, seizing on the chance for a belly rub any time one of us sits or leans over to the floor. They even demand belly rubs from the girls. And you know what? It works. It's sweet to see them develop relationships with the girls, and see the girls take more responsibility in their care.

BestestHusband started a new job at a tech company downstairs from his previous job. What's a guy with a PhD in Chemical Engineering and a background in discovering oncology drugs doing working at a tech company? Something Very Different from what he did before. But he still has the same bike commute. (Some call being a one-car family being "cheap", again I like to call combining a commute and exercise as "efficient".) In his spare time he plays the role of SuperDad, stalks Boston real estate for our future house, tends a good-sized garden, makes out-of-this-world mexican sauces, and helps reign in the chaos that has become our household norm.

I'm still doing many of the same things as last year. I work per diem at local rehab hospitals a few days per week. I shepherd the girls to and from the bus stop. I try to keep up with a kamikaze toddler. I started running again this past year, mostly to improve my patience level. And I started baking sourdough bread. And at the end of the day, when the house has been destroyed by my kamikaze toddler and my patience has been destroyed by everyone else, I at least have something tasty to show for my time.

So if you're in the area, stop by for a slice of fresh bread and a glass of wine I'll be ready to pour. We have a guest bedroom, and plenty of mayhem to share. We are truly blessed by what we have, but are pretty much constantly exhausted by it. And we look forward to a new year of exhaustion, love, joy, tedium, exasperation, and blessings in 2015.

With love,
The Bundles Of Joy Family

We Are Wealthy

I was talking to another mom at the playground after school today, and we got on the discussion of what we wanted out of schools - the non-academics that enriched our children's lives. We both agreed that we didn't want to send our kids to schools in the wealthy suburbs. She didn't want her children to be in the pressure-cooker environment - one that makes kids think that the only things that mattered in life were what college you got into and what you did for a living. I agreed with her. We both grew up in the South, and find New England's preoccupation with academic pedigree to be a bit concerning. (Of course, as I look up from my computer, it's BestestHusband's diploma from a school in TX that is larger than my other diplomas combined.)

But my greatest fear of sending my girls to an environment like that is that they'll grow up thinking they're poor. 

If we were to live in a ritzy suburb, we would be in the bottom half of incomes there. We would live in a more modest home than the girls' peers. We would drive an older car, with a less-impressive name. The girls would not have the same electronics as their peers. They would not jaunt off to tropical destinations and tour foreign countries on their Spring breaks. They would not have the same things as their wealthier classmates. And they would likely feel themselves lacking. They would likely conclude that they were unfortunate, and poor. And this is so far from the truth.

Now we are not wealthy by Boston's income standards. There is a great deal of money in this city. And if you know how to spot it, you see it everywhere. (It's not as easy to spot as it was living in Houston. But that's another post for another time.) But Boston provides a poor yard stick for measuring wealth. 

Here's how I know we are wealthy:

• We're not one payment away from losing the roof over our heads.
• We don't have to choose between buying food and buying medicine.
• We don't have to choose between paying our electric bill or our phone bill.
• When we're cold, we can turn up the heat.
• When we're hungry, we can buy food.
• If we lose our mittens, we can buy new ones.
• When we outgrow snow boots, we can buy bigger ones. 
• We can afford reliable transportation to get everyone to work and school.
• We can afford to fill the gas tank, even as gas prices climb.
• We can afford safe, reliable childcare for our children so we can show up for work every day. 

We may grumble about some of these costs, but it's not really a question of whether or not we can provide what our family needs. We may wish we had a bigger house with an actual garage, but that's a want, not a need. And it's a luxury. Our children don't really know what hunger is. Nor do they really know what it is to be constantly cold. The addition of one extra mouth to feed does not plunge our family into financial insecurity. 

I want my children to grow up knowing that this simple fact of having their basic needs met on a daily basis is a great blessing, and that we are part of the world's most fortunate and wealthy inhabitants. Because, regardless of what they see on TV, and regardless of hearing "we won't buy that, it's too expensive", there is nothing they really need. And that makes them wealthy.

Of course, the next thing they need to grow up understanding is that wealthy people need to help people that aren't. But that's another post for another day...

I pray that you'll recognize your own wealth, and give thanks for it as well.

4 Days Old

Little Debbie is a whole entire 4 days old! 
Here are a few things I've learned about her in 4 days:

• She likes to sleep on her side.
• She has had a wickedly strong sucking reflex from birth.
• She is a fantastic eater. 
• She has very strong lungs, and the voice of a much larger child.
• She looks a little like both of her sisters, but fully like neither.
• She is an amazing little bundle of snuggles, and molds to my body perfectly.
• I could spend all day holding her. But alas, I have 2 other children, a husband, and 2 dogs. They like attention, too.
• She has angry hands. Those little paws get to flailing, and all heck breaks loose.
• She has a very serious look about her.
• She occasionally shows off one very cute dimple.
• She does NOT like diaper changes. 
• She requires a lot of diaper changes. 
• She likes it when her sisters sing to her.
• She likes white noise.
• I am absolutely infatuated with this child.
• BestestHusband would be wise to use this infatuation to his benefit if he wants to convince me to have a 4th child.

I give thanks for her every day.

PS. I promise not to update every 4 days.

Luck. Or Lack?

Luck is a tricky thing. I'm not much of a gambler, because I don't really like luck. I prefer control. 

So when BestestHusband suggested that we fly on non-rev standby tickets to see family over 4th of July, I was a bit skeptical. We weren't guaranteed seats, but got whatever was leftover. IF there was anything leftover. Yet the price was right, saving over $200 per ticket. 

It was the only way we could see extended family on our budget. So I acquiesced. 

The trip out to MN was smooth. We got tickets close together, two in one row, two immediately behind. Life was good. 

The trip home was different. For starters, BestestHusband wasn't traveling with us. He had business matters to attend to, and flew out Sunday, planning to join us at home late Monday night. So I was flying home alone with the girls. 

My in laws checked the list the night before we were scheduled to fly out. The lists looked good, with lots of open seats. We chose afternoon flights. There were plenty of good options. 

Things looked different the next morning. Seats had filled overnight. We discussed various contingencies. Ultimately, we headed to the airport with our fingers crossed and my FIL in tow in case we had to split the family and come on different flights. We had jammies and toothbrushes packed in my carry on in case our suitcases went to Boston and we had to spend another evening in MN. We hoped for the best. 

We were at the very bottom of the standby list. Things looked grim. Everyone else boarded the plane. We were the last people sitting in the boarding area. Then they called our names. They had 3 seats. We were getting on the flight. My FIL could go home. 

We were assigned middle seats in three consecutive rows. Neighbors were kind enough to move so we could sit together. I felt incredibly lucky. It had all worked out as planned. 

Takeoff was as exciting as usual for the girls. MeToo sat by the window and thoroughly enjoyed the show. It's hard not to get excited when you sit near her. Takeoff was quick, but a bit noisier than usual. We found out why 10 minutes later, and got the announcement that something was amiss with the hydraulics system. We were headed back to Minneapolis. We circled around long enough to dump fuel, and were greeted by fire trucks as we landed. We were fine. But we weren't headed to Boston anytime soon. Our luck had turned. 

Our 1:10 flight was rescheduled for 6:45pm. How do you entertain 2 preschoolers in the Minneapolis/St. Paul airport for 4+ hours and then 2+ hours of flying?

• Well, first you buy $18 worth of yogurt and cookies to keep everyone well fed. Yes, that's 3 yogurts and 3 cookies for $18. 
• Then you go to the play space. It's across from gate C12. You let them climb and run and pretend to use the coin operated rides. Giving quarters for the rides is unnecessary. But giving them all of your pennies for the coin vortex is well worth the money. When they start whining and complaining about tiny bumps and owies, it's time for a change of scenery. 
• So you can ride the tram. It's free. It goes back and forth on the same track. But different people get off and on. It can really eat up some time. 
• Then you can play with the interactive screens near the mall area. Your shadow makes the little umbrellas scatter like leaves. It's mesmerizing. And another good time-waster. 
• Then you can look for the quiet seating area near the Conference Center, overlooking the entrance to Concourse F. There are comfy chairs and a couch there. Unfortunately for us, the couch was taken. We all could have used a nap at that point. 
• Then you find the toy store downstairs from there. Look at all of the toys. Play with the interactive game screen. Buy a small toy for future appeasement. 
• Soon, it's time to find dinner. Find a $10 grilled cheese sandwich for the girls, and a $6 fruit cup. Realize that it's not enough to feed you, but you've already swiped your credit card, and just move on. 
• Deal with a belligerent 4 year old. Threaten to leave her behind in the food court. Get to the gate. Buy another sandwich for another $10. (The threatening might be optional. Feel free to substitute another technique born of frustration if you'd like.)
• Find out you're at the end of the list for standbys again, but hear from the gate agent that your chances are good to get on the flight, anyway. Talk to Daddy on the phone for a while until it causes conflict between two tired preschoolers who can create conflict out of anything. Find out that both flights will be arriving within a half-hour of each other in Boston. Watch all of the people get on the plane. Eat your own sandwich. Have 2 girls insist they're not hungry. Have 2 girls insist they don't need to use the bathroom. 
• Move closer to the gate in anticipation of boarding. Have a 3 year old tell you she needs to potty "despewately" and can't wait. Get the nod from the gate agent. Tell the girls it's time to run to the bathroom. Have the 4 year old whine that she can't run. Grab her arm and demonstrate otherwise. Try not to sound like a crazy lady while running to the bathroom and hissing to the 4 year old that her belligerence could keep you from getting on a plane to go home. Help the 3 year old pee quickly. Ignore the sulking 4 year old who insists she won't need to pee ALL NIGHT. Run them back to the gate. 
• Have the gate agent wave you onto the plane, with boarding passes for the last 3 open seats on the plane. Gather your bags. Realize that your 3 year old left her backpack in the bathroom. Try not to cry. Get the go-ahead from the gate agent to run and get it. Leave the girls and bags with a total stranger and run. Find the backpack on the bathroom floor. Run back to the gate. Usher everyone onto the plane, and head towards the very last row. Realize along the way that you pulled an important muscle, probably a groin muscle. Consider that sprinting while almost 8 months pregnant isn't a wise move. Get to row 39 and discover that there is no window. Watch your 4 year old completely lose it. Suppress the urge to cry along with her. 
• Buckle everyone in. Distribute the $10 grilled cheese sandwich and water bottles. Gladly accept the Twizzlers from the mom of 4 sitting a row ahead. Give a prayer of thanksgiving for angels like her. Watch the Twizzlers stop the flow of tears. Pray that this plane actually makes it to Boston. Daddy is sorely missed. As is bedtime. Then hear the 4 year old insist that she had to go to the bathroom "desperately". Sigh audibly. 

Well, we did make it to Boston. MeToo slept most of the way, and HeyMama was happy with an iPod and 1:1 attention. And the toy I bought at the toy store. I limped and waddled with the girls to BestestHusband's gate, and we were waiting for him when he got off the plane. MeToo greeted him with an enthusiastic "DAAADDDYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!" and ran to him for a hug. BestestHusband helped with the bags, and we shared a cab ride home. It was after midnight when we finally arrived. But we got home. Together. Somewhat in one piece. With all of our luggage. 

So I guess our luck held out in the end. I felt bad for the young woman who started in LA, but had mechanical problems turn her plane around and keep her in LA an extra night. She finally made it to Minneapolis to connect to Boston. She was booked on the 3:15 flight, but got on as a standby onto the 1:10 flight. That was our flight. Her SECOND flight to get turned around for mechanical issues. She had already given up her 3:15 seat. She was booked on the 6:45 with us. Her luck was definitely lacking. 

And the passengers on the Korean flight into San Francisco definitely had worse luck. Ultimately, our luck was not lacking at all. Everything else was just inconvenience.

Thanks and No Thanks

Christians are encouraged to give thanks in all things. If we look hard enough, we can find gratitude amidst annoyance. So I'm going to give that a try today.

I'm thankful for warm down coats. I'm thankful for furry mittens. I'm thankful for fleecy warm hats. I'm thankful for soft silk long johns that disappear nicely under my work clothes. I'm thankful for warm fleece socks to go over my knee highs. I'm thankful for warm scarves. I'm thankful for shiny burgundy work clogs with a thick sole to lift me out of puddles. I'm thankful for the NextBus app that keeps me from having to wait too long at the bus stop in the sideways rain. I'm thankful for a dry train station in which to wait for the train. I'm thankful for my umbrella to keep the sideways rain out of my face. Mostly. I'm thankful that down coats dry well after a drenching. I'm thankful for a fulfilling job in a warm dry building.

I am truly thankful for these things. But I have to admit a few "no thanks" elements of my day.

If asked, I'd quickly say "no thanks" of offered the following:
Sideways falling rain
Temperatures in the 30's with sideways falling rain
Umbrella-buckling wind
Urban wind tunnels that exacerbate the umbrella-buckling wind
A warm train full of damp people

But at the end of the day, I'm going home to a warm dry house and a loving family. The pros outweigh the cons, and I really can't complain. And besides. There's so much to give thanks for!