Christmastime

Here's what's going down.

 We have been enjoying all your Christmas cards.  They are our centerpiece right now, along side a platter of California oranges.

Christmas day was filled with presents, family, and food.  As is the custom.

Each of us chose presents to give in honor of Jesus' birthday.

We wrapped them up and kept them a surprise
from everyone else.

And opened them Christmas morn.

 Peter gave nine dollars to Show Hope,

and the rest of his gift to World Vision to purchase two chickens and a rabbit. 

Rube used his money to buy mosquito nets, also through World Vision.

 And he drew Jesus a cookie.

 I sent a letter, picture, and some dollars to

Pleasant Hill Christian School.

Sweet, sweet school.

 Paul wrote a check to a family who works with Turks and is low on financial support.

We hope God was pleased with our gifts and that

He will be made known and glorified.

Since then we have been drinking lots of water...

 

and practicing our mad art skills...

and swimming in the warm indoor pool.

Yuletide Celebration

We served cookies and wassail, yes we did.  And we liked it.

Know why?

Because Sir Paul and I, Empress Mommadora, got to spend the day together. 

Even if it required selling tasty, overpriced goods to Symphony-goers.

We got to see the show too, which was impressive.  Those musicians are so talented.  And the Gentlemen Singers had such powerful voices.  Sandi Patti - not so impressive.  Seeing her in a sequined football jersey and black tights kind of ruined it for Paul.

Our Day Out in the City also included a failed attempt to visit Paul's Dad's work's Open House (get that?).  When we arrived the doors were locked and six signs (I counted) were posted informing us of the office's closed status.  So I missed out on seeing some airplane engines.  I think that's what I would have seen.

On to a lovely dinner out.  I appreciate the restaurant experience so much more since having children.  As in, it is so dreamy to eat at a restaurant without them.

Then to church.  But not our church.  Our other church.  Don't you have two churches?  On Saturday nights we go to a church about thirty minutes from our house.  This is when I worship.  On Sunday mornings at our primary church is when I serve.  So we went to church #2's Christmas Eve Eve service.  It was so good.  They speak my worship language.

During the service I had a realization.  This will be my Dad's first Christmas.  You know what I'm saying?  As of September, he is now a Christ-follower.  He cares about Christ.  The acknowledgement and celebration of Christ's birth has new meaning for him.  And I think that's so neat.  And then there's Easter coming up too.  Wow.  Merry Christmas, Dad!

After church we hung around in the lobby to wait for traffic to clear out.  So we took self portraits to pass the time.

just getting warmed up

a little more cheese here

ha, this is so fun

And we noticed this neat, neat idea to fill the church's food pantry.  Feel free to steal it and implement it at your church.

 

 Can you read the sign?

You can help with 3 easy steps...

1. Grab a bag and shopping list

2. Purchase items and place in bag

3. Return bag to Collection Pointe

Clever.

With much reluctance, we headed home.  It was just so nice to be away.  And together.  Surrounded by the masses, but alone together.  Like back in the day.  I love my sweet man.


Thank you, thank you dear Nana & Papa for this gift of a child-free day.

School?

School canceled today.

On account of snow.

Rube's up there on top.

Smashing the snow with his

'strong elbows.'

The snow plows make great mounds of snow.

 Perfect Reuben-size sledding hills.

 Peter likes to dig holes and caves in the mounds.

He's very proud of his hole.

Gotta go.  More snow to play in.

Here's The News

Reuben, sadly, did not catch a rabbit the other day.  But, he saw one in our yard yesterday and went into a flurry of excited words about getting Jeremy, Jeremy's hunting dog, and Jeremy's gun and shooting the rabbit.  Tomorrow, it seems, is Rabbit Hunting Day Number Two.  Bible study first, then off for the hunt.


Today we went swimming with some friends at a nearby high school.
Super nice pool.
Shallow kiddy section - I didn't have to get in.
Lifeguards all to ourselves - no one else there besides our two families.
And good friends, both for the boys and for me.
Three hours of *active* fun for five dollars.
We're thinking of a repeat on Wednesday.


I have a headache.  If that's news.

  Peter asked me to make dinners from the Mexico section of my international cookbook.  So far the only thing he has liked is the Cinnamon Creamy Corn Cake.  Unfortunate.  He was hoping to move to Mexico and be an artist when he grows up.  Maybe tomorrow's Black Bean Chili will be redeeming.


We are in the process of updating our homestudy because it is about to expire.  Already been a year.  So papers off to the doctors to reverify our health and lack of communicable diseases.  Papers off to the folks who do background checks to reverify our upstanding citizen status.  A new letter stating our lack of a police record from our local Town Marshal, who also happens to be one of two EMTs in town and came to our house and rescued Reuben with the ambulance last year when he had a seizure.  A few papers here and there.  And another home visit by our social worker in January.  It is nice to be doing something adoption related, even if it is just a repeat of work I did last year.  It will still be a year or so until we are matched with a child.


So to pass the time, Paul and I are going on a date!  Our capital city has a symphony orchestra, probably like yours.  And they need volunteers to help at their Yuletide show on Thursday.  So Paul and I get a day in the city together.  As soon as I secured a place for the boys to be, I just felt so good.  I have something to look forward to.  A break.  A day with my favorite man.  A long day.  Just me and him.  And the orchestra.

A Social Network Christmas

Maybe you've seen this?

But maybe not.

I've never been so moved by Facebook.




Click over here to see it full screen.

Ventings of a Pastor's Wife

This may sound like I'm complaining.  I'm not.  Mostly.

As Paul was called away tonight, it got me thinking about our current life situation as a pastor's family and I am going to use this space to sort things out.  Ready?


Let's say you hear about a pastor's family who divorce.  Or the pastor's wife is a mess with depression but tries to put on a good face for everyone.  She feels so trapped.  She shoots herself.  Or her husband.  That happened a couple years ago.  I know why.  I can tell you what leads to the Model Family explosion.

It's all those other people the pastor is taking care of.  He is so giving and generous to help them whenever they demand it.  Any day of the week.  And at any time of day.  Sometimes, they don't even know him.  But they know where he lives and they have his phone number.  And they don't think twice about asking him for help.

Oh, your grandson suffered an injustice on his baseball team?  That's okay.  Paul can fix it.  You want him to go to the baseball board meeting to confront the coach?  He'll be there.

You are going through a divorce and are sad?  Need to talk to Paul just as I pull one of his favorite meals out of the oven?  That's okay.  We'll share a family meal another night.

You signed our church up to ring the Salvation Army bell in front of Kroger tonight and not enough people signed up?  Paul will go.  Don't worry about us.  We'll, um, spend time together some other day.

Your drunk girlfriend is being irrational and you don't know what to do?  Send out the pastor's wife!  She so knows how to handle these situations.  Just let me change out of my pajamas and I'll be right there.

Oh, not enough people will help out in the nursery during church, or run the powerpoint, or babysit kids during Bible study?  I can do that, and that, and that too.  Where's Peter?  Um, I don't know.  He's probably in the building somewhere.  I don't have time to find him and sit with him during church.  I'm too busy serving others.

You are having surgery and have to be at the hospital at 4:30am and you want Paul there to pray with you?  Every time, he'll be there.

Your son is in jail again and you want Paul to go visit him, and visiting hours are only on Saturday?  No, he doesn't mind the 3-4 hour trip, in the snow.

You are a homeless man who lives in your van with countless cats and you want me to wash your rags?  Sure, no problem.  Really?  I didn't get them clean enough?  And, I don't have enough vegetables growing in my garden for you to pick and eat today?  Hmm.  I'll try to do better next year when you come around.

You want our church to do an advent candle?  That sounds nice.  Oh.  You want me to buy all the supplies and organize the speakers and readings?  I see.

This is therapeutic.  I should keep going. 

Is this why pastors have affairs, pastors' kids turn rebellious, pastors' wives become resentful and depressed?  They are too busy ministering to others?

While we love our lifestyle of fulltime ministry, I just want the world someone to hear how it affects our family.  I'm not bitter.  Most of the time.  I really try to have a positive attitude and a servant's heart.

Sometimes, before Paul leaves to go help someone, he'll ask me, "Is this okay?"  Of course it's okay.  How could I be so selfish to say, "No, don't go help that family.  Don't share Christ's love with them.  Stay home with me."

Is it okay for me to vent like this?

We are working at not becoming one of those pastor's families who fall apart.  (No, we are not anywhere near a divorce, nor am I depressed, and the only guns we have are Nerf.)

It's a tricky balance to be available to love and serve others and try to protect ourselves - our marriage, our family.  We do this by occasionally fleeing, getting out of town on his day off.  No, we will not get a cell phone.  We don't want to be reached when we are away.  I cannot think of any situation that Paul could remedy by returning from a day away with his family.  Sometimes I want to say, "Talk to the coach yourself.  Pray for your own self.  Let your drunk girlfriend be."

But I don't.  I say goodbye to Paul and feed the kids, give them baths, read to them, and put them to bed.  Maybe we'll see him in the morning.

And when we do, we'll be headed south.  Or maybe east.  I'm not telling.

Our Tonight

Looks like a good time, yah?

He just got his new nerf gun confiscated for
shooting the Pete in the head.

Rule #1 - No Head Shots

He was mostly screaming because Paul
took over with his gun.

"Don't use all my bullets, Dad!"

It was more like,

"DON'T USE ALL MY BULLETS, DAD!!!!!!!"
as you can see from the extreme drama in that first pic.

 

Here's the Pete taking cover behind the coffee table.
He learned so quickly.
Like shooting a gun and hiding from bullets is something
boys just know how to do.
Hmm.

Time Out's over.

Rube's back in the game.

Instant smile.

Tears?  What tears?

 

Pete found a new place of protection on the stairs.

Fun, fun.
I see this in our tomorrow.

Early.

Like, I'll probably be awoken to the

shoom, shoom, shoom sound effects.

Thanks to our friends the Duncans

for providing our boys with this manly man training.

Blah

No blogging today.

On account that I'm grumpy.

Think and Pray, Pray and Think

Sometimes a person just needs a little alone time, when nothing is required of her.  Even if that means getting a cavity filled.

Rewind to this morning. Eleven o'clock.

She said, "Just lay back and relax."

And I did.

I realized I had time to think.

So I freely thought.

And I prayed some.  A mom in my Sunday School class is needing to answer her son's question, "How does a baby get in there?"  In addition she wants scripture to back up the theory that God desires us to be virgins until we are married.  So I prayed for her and went over the verses I had found last night.

Then I still had some time, so I did some more relaxed thinking.  Have you done that lately?  So nice.

Then she started drilling.  And I jumped a bit.

"Did that hurt, or was it just pressure?"

"I'm not sure.  Try again."

Big pain.  Big jump.

Another shot to my gums to get really numb.  Okay, it went up to my eyelid.  My eyelid was numb.  But I had another fifteen minutes of thinking and praying time before she came back.  More about myself at this point.  Please let the numbing juice go to the place where she is going to drill, not just the whole right side of my face.  No longer very relaxed.

As I sat there I remembered my Dad telling about a time when the dentist couldn't get him numb enough and he told her to just go ahead and do it.  Could I be that tough?  How bad will it hurt?

She came back and drilled and my body tensed in anticipation of pain.  But, it was okay folks.

My hour of peaceful, no responsibilities time had come to an end and Paul and I laughed about my overly relaxed face.

Have you ever heard that red-heads have a hard time with anesthetic?  I believe it.  There was this one time "when I stayed up way past midnight," no, when I was having foot surgery and I totally woke up.  I remember my arms being strapped down and I said to anyone who could hear me, "I can feel that.  I can feel my foot."  And then I went back to sleep.  True story.

My Night In

Tonight it's me, two raspberry truffles, and Serendipity,

wrapped up in flannel sheets and a preheated mattress pad.

And Reuben, who thinks he wants to watch too.

Maybe it's the lure of the chocolate truffles.

Or maybe it's the cozy cuddly time with Mom and the cat.

I like to watch Serendipity at Christmas time.

Some watch...

whatever other Christmas movies are out there.

I watch Serendipity.

That's a lot of tubas.

Rabbit Stew

Look at this little boy.

I wish you could feel his bursting excitement.

He came into the kitchen and hugged my leg

saying, "Thank you!  I'm so excited!!"

He and Paul layered up in their snow gear

and just pulled out in a big truck

driven by our friend Jeremy

to go catch a rabbit.

And skin it.

And eat it.

This is no big deal to Jeremy.

He's a big hunter.

Even has a son named Hunter.

You never know when you go over to their house

if a big deer will be hanging from the rafters in their garage.

One time we went over and he had a coyote

laying out on his tail gate.

Reuben thinks his hunting abilities are fantastic.

And Jeremy loves being idolized by him.

"For Reuben.

Jeremy's Wild Hog Sausage"

from last year's wild boar hunt

So Jeremy called up this morning

saying today's a good day to catch a rabbit.

Really?

It's 15 degrees.

But it's sunny.

And who feels the coldness when the hunt is on anyway?

So what shall I do today?

Besides educate Peter.

Play with my laundry.

Something New

Silly, yes.

But I have the excitement of a child about to play with a new toy.

My new toy?

While I was out yesterday

all by myself

(it was a glorious two hours)

Paul designed and installed

an indoor clothesline

in our laundry room.

He's so sweet.

And strong.

And creative.

And thoughtful.

And,

handsome.

Let's find a picture of him...

See?  Handsome.

I've got laundry on the rinse cycle right now, just about ready to be clipped up.

You can sense the excitement, right?  Ooo, eeee!


Oh, the spin just stopped!

Happy laundering!


(Okay, it's 15 degrees and my world is covered in snow and ice.  It's a time of creative entertainment.  Like hanging up one's laundry.  May your day be much more thrilling.)

Snow Day

Were you fortunate enough to get the 6:36am weather report delivered to your bedside by a cutie cutie four year old this morning?

No?

You should come for a visit.



"Mom, it's a 'nowy day!"

     "Mmm."

"Is it enough 'now to go to the big hill?"

     "It's too early to go to the big hill now."



Then he disappeared for an hour and a half.  Maybe back to bed?  I don't know because I locked our bedroom door and went back to sleep.

Eight o'clock now...



"Unlock the door."  (Read that in your lowest four year old voice.)

     "No."

"Open sesame!"  (Say it like you believe it will work.)

      chuckle.  "No."



We did eventually get up and acknowledge, and fulfill even, our child's intense desire to be one with the snow.  Paul and the boys went out to inaugurate the third year of Peter's Snow Removal.  I dutifully went to the kitchen and whisked together hot cocoa.  Snow removal is a family business.

I was going to make homemade marshmallows as a hostess gift for our dinner outing this evening.  But, alas, the local market has not any plain gelatin.  Plan B will probably involve something else dipped in melted chocolate  Whatever it is, I'll have to test them before I give them, of course.

If you have light corn syrup and plain gelatin on hand, you could try making marshmallows.  Here's a video demo from a blog of a blog I know.




Click the link up there to watch it whole screen and to see the recipe.

If you make some, will you please dip them in chocolate and mail me some?  Yum.

As I am about to push the Publish button for this post, the boys are regearing and headed to the sledding hill.  It's barely ten o'clock.

We're Not Alone

Okay.

Doesn't it feel great when you meet someone new who thinks just like you do?  Maybe you have some crazy idea that no one else understands, but you are so sure of its rightness.  But occasionally you wonder why you're the only one who thinks that way?

Yes!

Meet... ha, I don't even know her name yet.  I just came across her blog from a link from someone else's blog.  Let me see...  It looks like her name is Shonni.

I was drawn to her blog because she's an adoptive mom with ten kids and two more waiting in China.  She has a lot to write about.

But the post that caught my eye and caused me to jump over here to This Small Life to share with you was called Advent and When We Stopped Celebrating Christmas. You can read it for yourself right here.

Here's a quote to give you an idea what she talks about:


 
"We do not give gifts to the children for Christmas...they get gifts for their birthdays.  We do not want to take away from the real GIFT of Christmas.  No competition for My LORD!!!  We want to remember, celebrate, honor, and give praises to Him and Him alone."





It felt good to read her words and realize there is another family out there who has gone against the grain of how an American Christmas must be, should be, is usually celebrated.


If some want to celebrate Santa's arrival, okay.

If some want to celebrate Christ's arrival, okay.  Right?

Yes.

And if we choose Christ, we are not alone.

Just Another Day

Before I was dressed and put together this morning, Reuben was outside playing in the snow.

I tried to get a pic of him making a snow angel

on the sidewalk in about 1/4 inch of snow.

It was cute,

his desperation to play in the snow.

 Peter soon joined him,

dutifully headed to clear our sidewalk.

Beach toy now snow toy.

 Reuben asked of me,

"Mom, you want to come outside with me?"

"Um... I am... going to make hot chocolate

so it's ready when you come in!"

Score.

Early morning coldness avoided.

 Here they are.

Round one of snow play completed.

So now onto our lunch adventure.

Yesterday I made pumpkin bread,

but it didn't get cooked all the way in the middle.

See...

 Gooey in the middle.

 So I tried an experiment.

What if I cooked it up like French Toast?

Would the middle get cooked?

I hate to throw it out,

especially since I personally turned a whole pumpkin into

pumpkin mash for most of the day on Monday.

And... it worked.

And made a delicious lunch.

Now, the afternoon Peter has been waiting for.

Peter has been planning for three days for this Big Event.

 He's been so giddy about the bunk beds

and wanting to do all his lessons up there

while I sit in a folding chair nearby.

Anyhoo,

on Monday he asked if we could go to the library

and pick out a stack of books

so he could read them on his bed for

"one to two hours."

Yesterday we trekked to the library for said stack of books.

TODAY he got his

"one to two hours" of reading bliss.

Books were stacked and prioritized before lunch,

ready to go.

Exciting, yes?

We did accomplish some formal learning in there too.

Promise.