Christmas memories

Christmas has come and gone in a blur of family and gifts and giddy children.  Last year was the first year that it was magical for Landon and this year he was even more into it than last year.  It makes the holiday all that more special to see children loving it and grasping not only the magical secular aspect, but the true religious reasons.  But I have found myself, over the past few years, longing for the Christmas of my childhood.  Not because I believed in the magic, but because of the magic of my grandparents house.  Christmases at their house were extra special.  I know all the of the grandkids felt that way.  

We spent every Christmas at their house in Johnstown.  We would brave the snowy mountains and we almost always had a white Christmas. Johnstown is never without snow in the winter.  My grandparent's house was small, just two bedrooms, but it was warm and cozy and inviting. I don't think they changed a thing from the time it was built until the day we moved them out several years ago.  Christmas Eve was the big deal.  We went to my grandparent's church for their candlelight service.  I miss that service almost more than I miss anything else.  We all dressed to the nines for church.  You were sure to pack your best dress to wear that night and their little house was always a flurry of us all beautifying before church started.  We'd put on our ill thought out heels and ice skate to the car.  We always had to park a ways from the church because the lot was full and there was almost always a sheet of ice awaiting us.  But we could always count on our PopPop to give us his arm and guide us safely.  He was so tall and always was wearing his fur hat perched oddly on top of his bald head.  I always loved their services.  Of course during most of the service you would find we grandkids doodling on our bulletins with the pre-burned candlewicks.  But when it came time for the candlelight part of the services we were ready.  The lights went out and then someone lit one candle at the end of each pew and you lit the person's candle next to you and so forth, all while singing a Christmas hymn, until all the church was lit with soft candlelight.  I will never forget the way it felt to sing hymns in the candlelight.  It's such a spiritual experience that even as a child I could feel the difference.  Just a few weeks ago we were with our youth group singing "Angels We Have Heard On High" and I caught myself tearing up.  I had a moment where I flashed back to singing in that chapel and the feeling that it brought me.  Even as a teenager you would find me with tears in my eyes while we sang those hymns in the glow of that chapel.  

After church was over we would rush home and into our pj's to enjoy our Christmas Eve feast.  Ham and shrimp and other goodies.  And after that we got to open our family stockings that were hung along the banister.  It was always exciting to sit around as a family and tear into out stockings.  After staying up too late we would all find a place to sleep.  Usually the grandkids all got the privilege of sleeping in our great-grandma's (Grammy) room.  She had two twin beds in her room.  Someone always got lucky enough to snag the spare bed and the rest of us slept on the floor.  My Grammy was somehow able to sneak in around us to her bed and able to sleep through us opening our stockings in the morning. She was an amazing woman, but that is another post all together.  We were to stay in our room in the morning until the adults told us it was okay to leave them.  So one by one we would wake up to find that Santa had come and filled our stockings on our bed.  So we would tear them open as quietly as we could so as not to wake each other.  And we were always amazed that Santa found us.  He filled out stockings and brought all our presents to put under the tree.  How our parents snuck them into the car without us knowing I'll never know!  

You always left my grandparent's house full of the most amazing food you'd ever eaten, and feeling loved and special.  I can only hope that in our own way we are making Christmas traditions for our children that they will cherish as much as I cherish my childhood memories.   

Hate the player...not the game

Just a fun Landon moment here. I told him to go clean up all the books in his room. It was clear that he and his brother and joined forces and emptied out a shelf all over the floor. The trouble was I had been ignoring it for two days, hoping he'd just do it himself. Right, he's four, I know. But he works better with motivation. So this dialogue commensed. 

Me: "you need to go clean up you books, please. Shiloh is coming later and we don't want a mess of books on the floor."

Landon: "Shiloh is coming?? I love her! She's one of my girls."

Me: "one of your girls?" As I laugh under my breath.

Landon: very nonchalant "yep. One of my girls."

Me: "how many girls do you have exactly?"

Landon: "one."

And with that he went and cleaned up his room and picked up all the books around the house. Believe me, there were lots spread around. So I guess he's not as big of a player as he claims. Then again, I've been informed that he and the little girl in his primary class at church like to hug and kiss. Hmmm. There's no denying he's cute, I guess he's figured that out! I was seeing if he'd claim her as one of "his girls", but he didn't. I guess it's just a casual relationship. A little NCMO, except without the MO? A little NCHK? 

It was adorable and made me leery of his teenage years. Scratch that, I'm afraid I'll get calls from elementary school saying he's the kid who "kissed the girls and made them cry"! 

I love this kid. 

a snowy birthday

Today is my big guy's birthday.  I can't believe he is four.  FOUR!  Where exactly has the time gone?  I swear it was just yesterday that I was bringing him home, I still recall the pain I was in for weeks after having him like it was yesterday. That little man was 12 days overdue and I was excited to have him evicted by induction.  He apparently knew it was coming and I went into labor before I went in.  He was a good baby.  He was very set in his own ways when it came to sleep schedules and would stay awake for hours on end as a newborn just to go to bed at 1am like clockwork.  He's been a handful for us, that's for sure. His younger years were great, he listened amazingly well....then he turned 2 and I think the listening part of his brain broke.  I'm very much hoping that four is the magic age when they are finally at peace with their emotions and understand how to share them without losing control.  I really pray it is the age of temperance and kindness.  I guess we shall see!  

As we were getting ready for church this morning I saw the flurries of snow starting and teared up a little. It is fitting for him to have snow on his birthday, if you ask me.  It snowed the day he was born.  Not a large amount, but a slick snow, that didn't start until he was being born, not during my whole labor.  During my pregnancy I kept telling my husband it would snow on the day he was born.  I knew it.  I just knew that he would come with snow. So as the weeks went by, and my due date came and went I kept my eyes to the skies waiting for any flurry.  Why was this such a firm belief of mine?  John's father passed away 12 years ago, and on the night of his viewing it snowed.  It was April, not a usual time for snow for us.  8 years ago his oldest brother passed away.  His name is Landon's middle name, he is his namesake.  The day he was born it snowed, on the beach, in Florida.  And on the day of his funeral it snowed.  I just knew in my heart that they wouldn't send him to us without snow.  Their first grandchild and first nephew came to us that day as the snow fell softly and gently outside, and I smiled and cried when I saw it.  I looked at John and said, I knew it, I knew they would send him to us with snow.  This is the first time in four years that we have celebrated his birthday with snow since that day and so it meant something a little extra special to me this morning to see it coming down.  

Happy Birthday, Landon Matthew!  May more wonderful years be just ahead of us. More years of joy and silliness and growth.  I love you little man!

 The day after he was born

and four years later

Bat-Will!!!

As a new day dawns so does the rise of a new superhero, Bat-Will. 

Sometimes superheroes need a break from their alter egos. Those masks can be confining. 

A little self-motivation never hurt anyone. 

Look! A tractor trailer in need of assistance! Help, Bat-Will!

All that saving the day stuff can really take it's toll. Time for a rest.  

That rest paid off! His super speed abilities have returned!

Every superhero needs a villain to fight. The Wild Fro has just shoved our hero to the ground. 

Even a superhero needs comfort from his blankie now and again. There's no shame in that, especially after being struck down by The Wild Fro.  

Before bed Bat-Will came back to check on those that he saved during the day.

All is well with Bat-Will on duty!