Advent. It's a Thing.

Advent is a thing.

I mean, I know it's a thing. I grew up in the Catholic church for goodness sakes - I KNOW Advent. If there's one thing the Catholic church does well, it's tradition. (Cue opening song to Fiddler on the Roof...) The candles, the prayers, the anticipation.  It's a beautiful thing.

But suddenly it's an INTERNET thing. At least the corners of the internet that I frequent.The Pinterest-y, mom blog, "489 Ways to Celebrate Advent With Your Children!!!!!!1!!"- type corners. And maybe there aren't actually articles with 489 ways to celebrate Advent, but when everyone is posting up all the things they are doing during the season, it sure seems like it. I think by now we're all familiar with social media overload. It's kind of exhausting to think about. Especially when December kind of creeps up on you. I mean, I knew it was coming - it was just November and all - but November seemed like a quick march right up to Thanksgiving, (and travel, in our case), and so here we are, thrust into Advent with no particular plans. No daily calendar, no hidden chocolates or candies or puzzles for each day. Are you covering your mouth in horror?  Because admitting that almost seems like the ultimate #momfail these days.

Let's be honest, parenting small children is difficult enough without adding HOLIDAYS to the mix. The everyday is filled with too many things to do in not enough time without worrying about adding holiday magic in for good measure.

Thankfully, the kids are pretty good about adding the magic themselves.

Grabbing Mary and a sheep and singing "Mary Had a Little Lamb"? Magical. And, yup, hilarious.

Being blessed to celebrate another first Christmas?  Definitely magic.

Listening to Caden read me the Christmas story?  Which involves this SINGLE page.  And goes like  this: "And they say 'hi Jesus!' and they all singing the sheep and the flying and ev-yone happy the end".  Every time.  Magic.

So, with three kids under three, I've committed to doing exactly four things this year to celebrate Advent and lead up to Christmas. (And by now you should have realized...ain't no elves up on my shelves.  Props if you can pull that off, but as for me and my house? NO thank you.)

     1. Read the Christmas story each day. This one is half falling apart from all the love we've given it over the past couple of years. It has the best rhymes.

     2. Play with the nativity set each day.  The one shown above in the first photos was one we'd been given for the kids.  Let's just say that while the figures were kid-friendly in size, they were NOT kid-friendly in material.  A couple of broken wise men's crowns and half a shepherd later, we gave them this one as an early Christmas present.  We gave it to them on the 1st, and it has been THE MOST played with toy by far in the few days since then.

And since it's, y'know, made for kids, even Nolan can get in on the action.

"Sing me the SONG, mommy!"  Brooklyn says, each and every time she wants me to act out the Christmas story with the figures. We've been over it many, many times. Caden loves to fly the angel around, especially in scenes when the angel has KEY LINES, such as "Hey btw you're totes gonna give birth to God's son", and laughs hysterically as he zooms away. Brooklyn carries Baby Jesus and "his mommy" around all over the house. And Nolan chews on everything. It's got something for everyone!

It's also great because Caden and Brooklyn are in prime play-pretend mode. So far this morning Mary, a wise man, and the camel have gone on an adventure to "daddy's store" (aka Lowe's). "Do you have your money?"  "Buckle up!" (Apparently this camel has advanced safety features.)  "It's far, far away." 

     3. Sing Christmas songs.  Hymns.  We're loving the Christmas albums from Mercy Me, Brandon Heath , and Casting Crowns.

     4. And, of course, we made a paper chain.

(Surprisingly good paper-chain makers.)

They rip off one link each night.  We alternate.  Brooklyn gets the red ones, Caden gets the green ones, because everything is all "Green my favorite.  I love green, mommy." lately.

Five days down. Twenty more to go.

We're not going to do everything this year. Or any year, really. But we can do some things.  And this isn't all that we'll do. We made some Christmas cookies over the weekend.  I can assure you that we'll make many more before the season is up. We'll play in the snow, read some Christmas stories, attend some parties. But are we going to cram in every community event, every Santa visit, every single holiday gathering we're invited to? Nope. And I'm fine with that.  

We're having fun right here.

Post (Thanksgiving) Weekend

Thanksgiving.  It doesn't seem to fly by exactly, but as soon as it's over it's on to the next thing - Christmas!  And I don't mind it that way.  The transition from the most beautiful fall harvest holiday, filled in my mind with all things burlap, delicious, and cozy, to the Christmas season, filled instead with bright colors, lights, and sparkle, is a fun one.  I love both holidays, but my mind has been so preoccupied with all things Christmas since arriving back home from celebrating in Iowa, that these photos seem like they were taken much longer than mere days ago.

(Packing helper.  Really.  I man, he didn't even TRY to take the clothes out of the suitcase.  It's a Thanksgiving packing miracle!)

(He did, however, pack himself into the suitcase.  Fair enough.)

One thing looked more like Christmas than Thanksgiving the morning before we left, though...

(As we are deep in the throes of all things Frozen right now, (I guess there's no escaping that one with toddlers), his name, of course, is Olaf.)

(Our halfway treat: smoothies and french fries for all.  They clearly do not enjoy it.  And now when we drive past any golden arches Caden calls it "the french fry place".)

(Early morning storytime with Grandpa.)

(Naptime with Daddy.  Before even getting to any of that turkey.)

(Naps done.  Ready for turkey.)

(Hurry it up, dad.)

(There it is.)

(His eyes are so big I think he's stuck with a deer-in-the-headlights look no matter what.)

(Approved of the pumpkin pie.  Ate more than his fair share.)

(Who me?)

First time, that the twins can remember, anyway, in "grown-up church".  Brooklyn got into the music with some hand-clapping.

This guy, on the other hand.  Don't let that angelic singing face fool you.  If you follow me in Instagram, you already know that he was belting out a rousing rendition of "Old MacDonald" from the hymnal, before declaring, "I don't like church" during the morning's announcements.  

(Worn out from the long weekend.)

(Though they did wake up to play with some new goodies.  And another stop at "the french fry place".)

Now back home.  More normal schedules and routines, our own toys and technology ("let's watch Super Why!" is a common refrain around here), errands and playdates.

And most importantly, most excitingly...

...adding some bits of Christmas.

Nolan Nine Months

Thanksgiving Tree

Thanksgiving.  It's this week.  It's one of my favorite holidays.  Which for me this year means gearing up for a road trip to Iowa and packing clothes, potty chairs, diapers, and, most importantly, loads snacks and distractions for the car.  (Though exactly when and how this packing will get done with three kids around remains to be seen.)

But for the past week or so, we've taken a little time out at dinner each night to talk about things we are thankful for.  I can't take credit for the idea as I've seen it floating around the internet in different forms over the years, but now I have kids old enough to participate in what I hope will become a family tradition.  It's also about as simple and as cheap as far as projects go (BONUS): branches from the yard, sparkly cardstock I already had, cut into leaf shapes.  String I also already had, hole punched, looped through, and tied in a knot.

Each night at dinner we go around the table and say one thing we are thankful for.  (I mean, except for Nolan.  Though I can pretty much guess that if he could talk his answers would amount to "milk", "pretty much any and all food", and "the two middle fingers on my right hand that almost never leave my mouth".)  Our one rule: no repeats.  Brooklyn got stuck after "the color blue", "the color pink", and "daddy".  Only three days in, huh?  We've helped her out a bit since then.

Also keep your expectations LOW.  At least for the very little ones.  I'm pretty sure that someone wound up in time-out after we were one answer in the first night.  And while I'd love some shots of them hanging their answers up on the branches (possibly their favorite part, besides picking out which leaf to use each night), it's usually pretty dramatic with a lot of "no don't stand ON the bookshelf" and "give me your leaf right NOW"-type comments happening.  Maybe they'll be able to hang them by themselves with a little less stress in a few years.  Like when they're 16?

Shown above: Caden's answer from the very first night.  Can't say I blame him.

I meant to start this awhile ago so we had it up for the whole month of November, but that just didn't happen.  Oh well.  Do what you can when you can.  We started last Monday and will continue until we leave on Wednesday.  Or maybe I'll bring some leaves along for Thanksgiving Day, as well.  It's something you can do for a few days this week, or as a big group with whoever you celebrate Thanksgiving with, or even in the weeks leading up to Christmas.

And we've had some impressive answers.  My designer heart couldn't help but be glad when Brooklyn named colors  s the top things she was thankful for (blue the first night, pink the second), but was also surprised that while Caden's first night was bread, his answer the second night was church.

(Other answers include "cheese", "pizza", and "bunny crackers".  Guess the kids have a thing for food.)

Happy Thanksgiving!

Parenting on Days Like Today

I expected certain things to be hard as a parent.

The lack of sleep. That's hard. Newborn constant nursing lack of sleep, toddlers with bad dreams and potty trips lack of sleep, general trying to get everything done in 24 hours lack of sleep. Sometimes we even achieve the sleep trifecta, where while each individual child sleeps relatively well, they all wake up once during the night. Spaced out every couple of hours, this makes for a difficult night, equaling a rough next day.

With three under three, just the physical demands of taking care of several very small children is hard. I am often trying to feed one, give attention to another, and deal with a bathroom situation with the third (or any combination of the above) simultaneously. They all need me for the most basic of tasks, in a seemingly constant cycle.  It's hard.

But the hardest thing that I've found? The emotional component. When something happens that rocks my world - my adult world - and I still need to continue being the parent. To mother. 

The first time I remember this struggle was as we determined our next steps before leaving Madison. Where would we go? What are the possibilities? What will we do? Things seemed to change by the week and we had a rough couple of months as Tyson accepted positions, denied positions, minds were changed, and plans were upheaved so many times that it was difficult to keep up. My mind was literally all over the map for a few weeks - Missouri!  Oregon!  California! - and it made for some desperate Google search sessions for jobs and housing while also ensuring that twin toddlers were loved and entertained.

The next time I remember feeling this emotional tension was this past summer, as we experienced shooting after shooting after shooting. My mind was so fried trying to comprehend and grieve one day that the twins mostly watched PBS and played outside. My ability to interact - to interact well - was minimal.

And now this. This election. It has consumed my thoughts and mind for much of this past year, especially the past few weeks, but never more so than today.

Not being able to process these issues at my leisure is the absolute hardest thing I've found about being a stay-at-home parent. There is very little room to think, to breathe, to have a moment to read or watch or get away to (attempt to) understand and grieve and come to terms with what is happening. And yet it's very lonely. There isn't an adult around to have an uninterrupted conversation with, unless it's early in the morning or late at night. There are immediate needs in my here and now - another nose to be wiped, another diaper to change, more food to prepare - that consume my attention, leaving me with a dull sense of anxiousness that is difficult to assuage. My mind can be so consumed with a train of thought before being quickly derailed as this need and this need and this need are met.  Which leaves me back at square one and the cycle starts all over again.  It's hard to put my mind at ease when I am so consumed with other duties.

All the thoughts swirling around in my head mostly lead to this: I am so saddened and heartbroken but mostly stunned that this man has been elected the leader of our country. It is beyond belief. That half of this country decided a man whose rhetoric includes extreme examples of misogyny, racism, and pathological lying is capable of running our country is absurd. While neither candidate was perfect, I am legitimately concerned of what a President Trump might do. Not to mention that he and many of his supporters disregard things like logic and actual facts.

I'm not entirely sure what he may or may not be able to do. Republicans fully in control across the board is concerning to me. Whatever he may or may not accomplish, just his basic character and patterns of speech (that he has made "okay" in our country) regarding women, minorities, and others is highly problematic.

Which leads me to this: my children. I truly felt yesterday that a Democratic vote was a vote for my children. That it was leading our country in the right direction both morally and socially. My comfort right now is that at least my children are too young to understand what is happening. They had no idea a presidential election was going on. (Though, yes, they were jealous of my sticker.) Whatever processing I may need to do personally, at least I do not need to explain to them why this man was elected president. Our biggest task right now as parents is to keep upbeat and cheerful, avoid heavy discussions while they are around, and keep the news at a minimum, despite what is going on or what we may be feeling. It's amazing the emotions even small children can pick up on.

But in four years? Caden and Brooklyn will be 6. That's old enough to know who the president is. That's old enough to hear what he is saying. That's old enough to understand some current events and know what is right and wrong. I'm concerned for what I will have to explain to them two, three, and four years from now. My children - our children - deserve better.

Jeremiah 29:11 keeps resonating throughout my head. "'For I know the plans I have for you,' declares the Lord, 'plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.'" I have to say that is small comfort to me right now. While this election is not a surprise to God, it is certainly a surprise to me, and to so very many in our country. These plans make no sense at all to me.

So here it is. The thing I find the most difficult about parenting. The absolute hardest thing is having all of these thoughts tumbling around and around and around in my head just needing to get OUT...and not being able to.  I've had to wait until naptime - hours and hours now - to get most of them down.

I may not be able to process this all as much as I would like today with the kids around, and I'm sure I'll be in for another late night reading and discussing everything with Tyson. Despite how we may feel right now, we will take time to collect our thoughts and get ready to move forward, as a family and as a country.

Despite my confusion and even anxiety, I do know this. Today, as any other day, I am called to love. That's my parenting job today. I am called to love my children. I am called to play and protect and mother and snuggle and discipline them no matter what else is going on. Despite the news blaring this morning, I set the noise aside and made Nolan giggle uncontrollably in his high chair. I got up early (hahaha like I was sleeping anyway) and made a spread of pancakes and eggs and sausage for my family. (Mickey Mouse shaped so you know they were special.)  Whatever rhetoric or despair may be spreading, we are called to be kind. My children are watching me, me. Not that man. Not yet.

They don't even know we have something called a president.  So today I can turn off the TV, put down the phone and the articles and the statistics, and attempt to set my mind not on earthly things, but on things above.

It's the only thing I am called to do right now.

(Also, this:)

(One day at a time Sweet Jesus. FIX IT. One day is usually all I can handle anyway.)