Christmas Morning: A Photo Essay

Merry Christmas, my friends!

"For unto us a Child is born, unto us a Son is given: and the government shall be upon His shoulder: and His name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace." Isaiah 9:6

Two of the three men I love most in this world!

We went to Zoolight Safari at the zoo tonight. The weather was a balmy 52 degrees. OK, "balmy" may be pushing it, but the weather was as near perfect as you can ever hope to get in December... and I embrace that. This baby boy sang. He danced. He laughed. He jumped for joy.

He. Loved. Every. Minute. Of. It. That's what I'm saying.

And, we loved every minute of watching him love it. That's how it is when you have a baby in the house. He entertains all the rest of us. But, this picture is the one I love the most... showing Daddy the alligator lights.

This is the good life.

Random thoughts on courtship, baggage and angst

I've been observing teenage behavior lately and I don't like what I see. There are a few young teens that I know who are tied up in knots over "cheating" boyfriends, break-ups and being "the other woman". Whoever said dating is practice for divorce was right on the money. It is akin to watching a three year old girl fuss over her play kitchen with her play food and her baby dolls. How sad is it to replace that sort of play with play adultery, play heartbreak, and play divorce. I don't like it one little bit.

We get a lot of criticism for choosing the path less traveled of courtship but we have good reason. Our daughters are beautiful. The reason that's not boasting is because I consider it more of a curse than a blessing... more of an opportunity to be snared by temptation, if you will. There is much to protect them from because they attract a lot of attention. If we had allowed it, there would have been many boyfriends by now.

I know a young man who uses and discards young girls like I use and discard kitchen garbage bags. It's not pretty. My girls are worth more than that and their future husbands will thank us for keeping them pure, not just physically but emotionally. Sometimes I think the emotional baggage is more far-reaching and damaging than the physical.

When discussing her friend's recent "boy trouble" angst, my sixteen year old said to me, "Praise the Lord for courtship!" Music to my ears, it was. She gets it. She embraces it. She realizes that in courtship and protection are freedom and peace. The world will tell my girls that freedom is tramping down the street with every Tom, Dick and Harry. They know better.

And, for that I praise the Lord.

Should a pregnancy test ever be an impulse purchase? Discuss.

Mr. P and I went out shopping tonight sans children for some last minute Christmas gifts and stocking stuffers. We ventured very slowly around town because being out at night alone is a rare and beautiful thing to be savored... even up and down the aisles of the dollar store.

Once our dollar store basket was mighty full of Christmas cheer, we headed to the check-out line. One cashier makes for a slow moving line and an opportunity to ponder the meaning of life, the state of the economy and the items cleverly located at the check-out aisle for less savvy shoppers who lack impulse control.

We saw that which we would expect to see on a check-out lane selection. There were mints and gum and chocolate in every shape and size. There was a tire pressure gage, some razors and an air freshener to hang from your rear view mirror. Classy. But, then sitting in the middle of all these goodies was a rack of one dollar pregnancy tests. Really? A pregnancy test is an impulse purchase? For who?

Think about it. You're buying some dish soap, a key chain and some duct tape. As you start to check-out, you look up and see a rack of pregnancy tests and you say to yourself... what?

~Oh, I've been meaning to pick up one of those for Sally.

~Hey! I just realized I might be pregnant. Better grab one of these!

~You know, Bob has this gift exchange at the office on Friday...

~Won't Grandma be surprised when she looks in her stocking this year!

Since we were sans children, Mr. P and I were able to freely discuss all the many possible scenarios that would warrant an impulse pregnancy test purchase. None of them seemed feasible and we were quickly distracted by the very scripty "LOVE" tattooed across the check-out girl's, ahem, ample chest region.

That's when it happened. Two ladies walked up behind us in line. One lady looked both ways (apparently not seeing me standing right there watching her every move) and knocks one of the pregnancy tests off the rack and onto the conveyor belt. She quickly covered it with her other items and whispered to her friend, "Don't tell anybody."

OK, then. You just can't make this stuff up.

Sufficiency of Scripture Conference!

I so wish I was there! Oh, how I wish I was there! I really want to be there! But, since I'm not, I plan to take advantage of this special. Right now through the end of the conference, you can pre-order all the conference messages at a nice discount!

I think I know what I'm giving myself for Christmas this year!

Only 105 days until spring.. only 105 days until spring... only 105 days until spring.

Cloudy. A 50 percent chance of snow after midnight. Lows around 30.

This is the forecast for Saturday. I think I may diiiiiie!

If you need me on Saturday, you can find me by the fire, rocking back and forth, repeating, "Only 105 days until spring, only 105 days until spring, only 105 days until spring..."

This stuff only happens to me.

I've had... an interesting 24 hours. It all started with the promise of Christmas pictures. Every year we take these pictures and every year it's stressful. I have learned the system, though. You get the first appointment of the day the first day of the week. This reduces the chances you'll come home with more than cute pictures, if you know what I mean. So, considering how picture taking CAN be, ours was relatively stress-free.

Oh, who am I kidding? It's always something. Am I right?

This year I was on the hunt for super cute coordinating outfits. We found two lovely sweater vests which were perfect for the upcoming photo session. My father-in-law wanted to take some pictures of the children for his own Christmas card so I pulled out the Christmas vests.

See them? Cute, no? Take a good look.

It was a fairly warm day that day... not that I'm complaining about that, mind you... so the two boys shed their Christmas vests in the car on the way home. (foreshadowing, just so you know)

In the meantime, we were all about the Christmas cleaning so the house could be perfect for decorating. I like to start with a clean house before I destroy it with Christmas decorating messes. The little girls and I worked in their room one day and bagged up four bags of outgrown clothes, shoes and toys. These bags were placed by the front door to be taken to the thrift store.

In the mean-meantime my oldest son was cleaning out the van and he put the things to come into the house in a bag eerily similar to the thrift store bags. You see where this is going, right?

Yes, my friends. My brand new sweater vests, two family members Bibles, a pair of shoes, an unopened bag of cat food, and an assortment of cups were inadvertently given to the thrift store. I didn't realize this until the night before the photo session when I was assembling everyone's outfits. Of course, by then the thrift store was closed. I flew back to the mall in a feeble attempt to buy more vests. But Black Friday had happened to my vests. Long gone, they were. I ended up buying two entirely different matching sweaters... and I was lucky to get those!

See them here? Cute, but expensive. Story of my life.

On the morning of the photo shoot it was raining. Not a light sprinkling rain, but a cats-and-dogs kind of rain. It hasn't rained in a week and a half. This stuff only happens to me. Poppy was wearing a satin skirt that is not friends with water so she put a Walmart bag over her curlers and carried her skirt under her arm to protect it all. I didn't even bother to curl the little girls' hair. I knew it was a lost cause. But, undaunted by the flood, we persevered through rush hour traffic to the photo studio. (Remember first appointment of the day? That's 8:00am) I had been up bathing, spit shining and water proofing babies, clothes and hair since 5:30am. It was a long day already.

The picture taking went fine and the pictures were cute so it was a successful day. But, the vests still haunted me. I want them back! Once the pictures were done and I rowed the children back home in the ark, I headed out again to the thrift store to explain my problem to the manager. Problem was, the manager did not speak English and my español is a little rusty from 10th grade. I'm not sure we understood each other. I don't think 'sweater vesto' is the correct Spanish word for sweater vest, but I can't be sure. Another employee wrote down a description of the bag and its contents and claimed he would look for it and call me. He was smirking when he said it, I'm almost certain.

Goodbye beautiful Christmas sweater vests. It was nice knowing you.

By this point I looked like a drowned rat and I realized the photo studio left out some of the pictures we ordered. Great. So, back to the studio I went. At this time of day, parents who do not understand the first appointment of the day strategy, were wedged into this place like New Year's Eve revelers in Times Square... equally unruly too. I was up to my knees in cranky, hungry, whining, screaming toddlers dressed in a sea of red and green. There is no telling what form of pestilence attached itself to me as I sat there waiting on my pictures. A gallon of germ gel went to good use once I was safely back inside my van. YUCK!!

Once I was home with pictures but no vests, it was time for supper.

And bed.

But, I have pictures! That's the important thing, right?