Wednesday, December 28, 2016

Christmas Recovery

It's 6:13pm. Usually, we'd be en route to church. But we haven't seen Usual in several weeks - and we haven't made it to Wednesday services in several weeks either.

One of my children has a nose running like a faucet (again), and we're trying to refrain from sharing...except as we all know this runny nose has the serious potential to trickle through our family one by one requiring a full three weeks to recover from; our last go-round (week before last) only two fell to the enemy germs. I don't have such high hopes now, only grim expectations of being thoroughly snot-covered for many days ahead.

I think we're also suffering from post-Christmas depravity. Regular {non-indulgent} life kind of stinks after a few days of nostalgia. Perhaps I'm suffering the most. Perhaps I'm wishing my cup of holiday cheer were overflowing. Perhaps I'm just tired.

Um, that's where the rubber hits the road. I'm nerves are frayed. Mama wants some silent treatment from the children.

It's a painful irony that when I feel the need for a few moments of quiet and go somewhere and close the door or ask for silence, the children howl all the louder because "We Don't Like Being Quiet!!!!!"

We did have a lovely little Christmas. I had the pleasure of taking the girls out individually so they could shop for their siblings, and it was delight to watch their little minds work and steer them a little towards a great gift. They really did well in their gift-giving. We made a few batches of cookies. We enjoyed the mess of paper and tissue in the floor as the children explored the gifts. And I especially reveled in watching them play all afternoon Christmas day with the wonder of new toys. I am not a toy buyer largely, so while Christmas is, of course, a special day, new toys make it even more so.
Emery's parents came to spend a couple of days with us, and it's so nice to watch the children forming real relationships with our out-of-town family. The girls and Grandma undertook a sewing project which resulted in stuffed foxes that are thoroughly cute. Hattie named hers Melissa. Adele thought John Wayne to be the best name for hers. I can't stop laughing over her name choice. This same child named a stuffed dog T.J. Maxx - and I thought that was brilliant too.

And, for the curious among you, I'm improving. This miscarriage has taken quite a toll on me physically, and I'm slowly regaining strength and energy. I am getting better, though a heart takes much longer to heal.

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