(More) Sweet Christmas!

Every year at Christmas, I'm afraid it's going to be the last one that's covered in naivete....that the innocence of it all is going to be polluted.  Does that make sense?  My children (and I don't suppose they're that much different from others) find the purest joy from the simplest things.  I love watching that happen.  We don't "do Santa Claus" for several reasons, and people have been so generous to share their opinions about that.  We do, however, provide lots of opportunities for discovering unexpected joy on many days throughout the year.  When we wake in the morning sometimes and I whisper, "There's new work in the cupboard," I love seeing their faces light up and watching them run out of the room.  (Really.  It's the delight I savor....not the few extra minutes in bed.)

Christmas provides a little more of that, I think, just because children love to see what's in those boxes that stay way up high on the garage shelves most of the year.  One of my dear aunts gave us a lollipop tree one year, and this year I had the idea to make some "lollipops" for it.  While JayBird napped one day, The Girl and I cut some lollipop sticks in half and glued on some pom-poms.  They dried overnight, and the next morning the children found them in a basket ready to decorate the tree.  They get used for lots of things:  lollipops, of course, and also fingernail polishers, something that gets cooked regularly (I have no idea), baby bottles, and who knows what else.  I just know I find them all over the house.  But that morning, they did decorate the tree.

Is that the sweetest thing ever?

JayBird really enjoyed this work.

The Girl is also "interested to" (as she would say) nativity scenes so you can imagine her excitement when she received a new one from another of my sweet aunts.

Well, she was excited until she realized that Baby Jesus does not come out of the manger.  She's managed to put aside her disappointment and enjoy it anyway.  One night, I surprised her by setting it up in a little play space.  She actually woke up while I was working on it and had the groggiest, sweetest little smile as she toddled back to bed.

The Girl loves to move the Wise Men around on the roads, and JayBird likes to be sure the animals stay hydrated.

We just have the sweetest of times with the simplest of things.  No flashing lights.  No noisy toys.  Lollipop sticks.  Pom-poms.  A hand-me-down nativity scene, some felt, and wine corks.  Two sweet babies, and two smitten parents.  That's all we need.  So when I say, "We have limits on things," or "We don't do Santa," just know that our home is (usually) filled with discovery and delight (to borrow a phrase) that the toy stores could never package.

The Crash

Not long ago, I posted about The Girl and her wheels.  Anyone who knows us knows that the bike now lives in the back of our van so it's ready to ride anywhere, anytime.  Not long ago, we were downtown at an LLL meeting, and when we packed up, JayBird fell asleep right away.  As we were driving away from the downtown area, The Girl reminded me that I promised her a bike ride.  Downtown.  I was really hoping she had forgotten so that we could go home, JayBird could sleep in the van, and she could ride her bike in the driveway while I did some housework.  No chance of her forgetting, I'm afraid.  The Riverwalk is one of her favorite places to ride because "we don't have to worry about intersections".  (Her words.)

That particular day, we parked on Ann Street, and she had a snack while JayBird finished his nap.  We got everything ready so that when he awoke, we could get him ready and hit the road.  The stroller was out and ready.  The bike was out and ready.  The Girl put on her helmet.  JayBird awoke, and while he pottied and got redressed, The Girl and I had a conversation about gravity.  Specifically, we talked about the hill we had to get down and perhaps it would be a good idea to walk the bike down the hill until she had a little more practice with the brakes.

In the blink of an eye, I turned around to find that I was talking to myself, and she was having a private lesson in gravity with no words required.  She was in total control:  hands on the handlebars, toes slightly dragging the ground.  Another blink of an eye and I realized I had to choose between leaving my (mostly dressed) one-year old alone in the van and trying to run down the hill without falling and breaking an appendage and/or killing myself.  I knew I was going to have to collect her.  I remembered I had the keys.  I took off down the hill just in time to see the bike hit the edge of the curb and The Girl go slightly over and to the side of the handlebars.  As I approached, she was screaming, "I can't get out of here!  I can't get my bike out of here!"  I pulled her out to find no apparent injuries.  (I later found 2 small scratches on one elbow.)  She just seemed angry that she was temporarily stuck and slightly thrilled that she "went really fast".

I, on the other hand, was in shock that she had collided with neither the telephone pole nor the bush, but had instead, maneuvered directly between the two for a soft landing.

See that space to the right of the light pole?  That's where she went in.

We hurried back up the hill, and the fact that angels were watching over us was confirmed when I found the poop-containing potty undisturbed by JayBird.  He was busy driving.  See why I had to think about where were the keys when my child was heading for the Cape Fear River?

Apparently the impact of the crash knocked the wheel a little loose so we didn't get too far before the chain fell off.  What better time to learn to put on a chain?  Thankfully, my outgoing little biker rounded up help from a passer-by.  I had a strong feeling that we just weren't meant to go bike riding that day, but it seems I was the only one with that feeling.

All's well that ends well, I suppose.

U! N! C! W! Go Hawks Go!!

That's what we've been hearing around our house lately.  Some very generous friends gifted us with tickets to a couple of basketball games, and boy, were the children ready!

JayBird cheered.

And snacked.

And snacked.

And snacked...

.....so he would have plenty of energy to cheer some more...

...and explore.  If you've ever wanted to explore every inch of anywhere, go with a one-year old.

Meanwhile, The Girl was prepared for cheering the team to victory.

Clearly, she's very focused on the game.

Her acrobatics impressed neither her father nor the fans sitting around us.  She looked pretty safe to me.  And anyway, did you see what those other cheerleaders were doing?  Infinitely more dangerous stunts.

On one of our explorations, JayBird and I ran into the Seahawk.  He was a big hit.  JayBird didn't really want to go near him, but he did want to be sure the Seahawk knew there was a picture of him in the lobby.  He spent a lot of time on that.

"Hawk.  Hawk"  (head nodding)

When the cheerleaders went onto the court for the first time, The Girl said, "Mama, I need to go dance with them!" as she headed to the court.  I promised her we would try to catch them after the game, and you would think they were long lost friends when she finally got there.

They were so sweet to her!

Those were fun times.  Fun, exhausting times!

Sweet Christmas!

Sweet.  That's the best way I can describe Christmas morning on Maplechase.  The children had absolutely no expectations of gifts, and they were perfectly surprised to find a few beneath our little tree.

I wish I could remember what was so funny to The Papa.

They've been wanting a tea set for so long, and we finally got it all together!

My girl is always wishing for a tea party!

After unwrapping a couple of individual gifts and unpacking the stockings, they were ready for one of their favorite breakfasts:  waffles and sausage!  So simple.  So easy to please.  So sweet.

The Papa Has a New Job!

Well, The Papa has had a new job for more than six months.  It's wonderful.  He has a job with "regular" hours.  He's home on the weekends, and he's even had a couple of paid holidays.  The best part for me, however, is that he's usually home in time to help with bedtime.

This is helpful.

Isn't this what bedtime looks like at every home with young children?

JayBird gets involved, too, of course.  It's how he learned to count to 19 before he was 19 months old.
"One........two............ fifteen............. thirteen...... nineteen."

As long as he's taking care of both of them, I guess I can't complain.

....sleeping in heavenly peace.