It took my kids 12 minutes tear through their gifts and make our living room look like a bomb went off at 5:30 am. They opened every. single. package. Even the gum - which was dried up and stuck to the bottom of the trash can that I later scraped out. This is the first actual Christmas that we’ve been home as a family all day on Christmas Day. Apparently, we have trained them to hurry so we can get in the car and leave. Maybe we need to work on that. And, because I didn’t know what to do with myself either, I started packing up the decorations - not everything - just a little garland and a couple of wreaths to give myself a little clarity. I finished the takedown when we got back in town, except for baby Jesus. I have a real hard time putting him back in the box. So, for the last week, I have left him out to enjoy after the rest of Christmas is gone. That’s the part I really like anyway - you can have your red and green and that dead tree, but give me a good nativity. And, I’ve decided to keep a few reminders out this year. Couldn’t hurt and I think the rest of the mess really gets in the way of what matters.
Among the other events this season, Kate and I stole a Sunday afternoon out to see “The Best Christmas Pageant Ever” at one of the local theaters. It’s one of my favorite stories - I remember my mother loving it too and reading it to her class every year. It’s a lovely story of the Herdmans who sabotage the church’s perfect Christmas pageant with their raw and uncensored lack of baby Jesus knowledge. The church people are appalled and judgmental the poor Herdman kids who just want the free food. But, somewhere in the middle of the chaos and they figure it out and can’t help but be mesmerized by the miracle.
I think I love the Herdmans so much because I can relate. My people look more like Herdmans than church people most of the time. I watch as other people’s kids say “cheese” on command and when I try to take a single picture of my kids in front of the Christmas tree at church, they are pinching and hitting like a bunch of nuts. Right in front of the sanctuary. One day during the break I was working from home and as I typed, our puppy was pulling Kate in circles around the kitchen table by her footed pajamas. And, nothing beats Bailey training the dog to howl using an air-horn app on the iPad. In addition to the usual, “did you brush your hair, teeth, flush, etc.?” I’ve said things like, “take off the roller skates before you go up the stairs,” “I don’t think the dog likes being pick up by his neck,” “no, you cannot shoot the BB gun at the fence,” and, “how did you not see the mud until after you were rolling on the ground?” We’ve done our best to entertain with movies, outings, and friends, but after some particularly challenging moments, I officially declared to Stephen that I was out of parenting about mid-day on Saturday. Fortunately, they survived the next 12 hours with little guidance and I am happy to report that they are still alive.
But there’s another thing about the Herdmans that I really like. They come with no expectations, no pre-conceived notions of how Christmas should be, and yet they give more to the story than everyone else. We all watch at how everyone else is on their best behavior, continuing on with their rehearsed lives, and the Herdmans, with their dirty clothes and filthy mouths stumble upon a miracle - the same one that He gave to everyone else. So, as I think about the new year and what I’d like to accomplish, I remember the Herdmans. I think about how imperfectly perfect my children are and how completely imperfect and inadequate I am. I vow to enjoy how unrehearsed they are and how I can laugh with them as they navigate through a world where expectations vary in every direction. I think about how even when I miss the boat, and have to apologize, they still climb in my lap and have unconditional love - because that’s the boat I didn’t miss. I will continue to try and prepare them for this world by explaining why it is important to say thank you and I’m sorry, wear pants in the winter, exposing them to the tough and uncomfortable, explaining why dry erase markers should not be used to decorate clothes or furniture, why coating a toothpick with wax or a band-aid will not prevent it from catching on fire, and why some people will always have more/less stuff/opportunity/fun activities than they do, but never more love. I will use lines like, “if so and so jumped off a bridge, would you?” and “it’s hard to put the toothpaste back in the tube.” (thanks, Mike).
I intend to take the time to reflect before I react. I’m not one to set lofty goals because so much of my life has been consumed with survival but I think I can handle reflection. And, maybe in the midst of it, I can teach my children to do the same - reflect on what you have, reflect on what you have to give, reflect on what the cost will be to yourself and others, before you react rather than tearing through life like gifts on Christmas morning. Now, we won’t get this right all the time but I’m giving it a shot.
Happy New Year!
The Herdmans. I mean, the Jessops.
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| Our coconut cake adventure. I enlisted expert help from my lovely and nearly perfect Aunt Wilma. |
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| Bailey's book from his party book swap. A good sense of humor will carry you far. |
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| Christmas Party Kate |
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