An excruciating evening. . .for one of us!

Last night was the Christmas program for our two older children.  50 minutes of listening to band, choir, chimes. . .you get the idea.  It was quite nice, with lots to listen to and watch.

Not to my six year old.

You think we'd asked him to go all day without eating.  Or to clean the entire house by himself.  Or (gasp!) live in a world without Sonic the Hedgehog.

It was apparently an insurmountable task.

Before we even left, he start fussing about it.  Once we got there, he wiggled in his chair, frequently turning around to show one of his buddies a few rows back the wound on his wrist (which was still bright red and not all that pleasant to view).  He made paper airplanes out of the program and switched between our laps with the speed of, well, Sonic.

At one point, he turned to my husband and said, "This is SO not manageable!!"

50 minutes.  That's it!  And this kid is accustomed to sitting in church at least once a week for longer than that!  Not sure if it's Christmas' imminent arrival or what.  But this kid struggled last night.  Yet, even amid our annoyance and frustration at his behavior, my husband and I looked over his head more than once, silently laughing.

It's a good thing he's hilarious!

When I put my 3 year old to bed each night, I can count on one of the following happening:

"Mommy, tell me a good dragon story!"

"Mommy, let's play friends!"

"Mommy, tell me a bad dragon story!"

"Mommy, can you seep wif me for a few minutes?"

As I lie down next to her, sometimes I snuggle so close that we're cheek to cheek.  I breathe in her sweet scent and my heart feels like it will explode.  These days are fleeting, and last week that was brought to our attention in a heartbreaking way.

Dear Lord, thank you for the precious children you have entrusted us with.  Comfort those whose lives are devastated.  Give them the hope that only You can give.  Come, Lord Jesus!  Amen.

He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.  Psalm 147:3

Stink is in the nose of the beholder

Me:  (getting a whiff of unpleasant air)  Son, I think your armpits are a little smelly.

Son: (leaning over to give each one a hearty sniff)  Aaaah!  Like a fresh summer breeze!

A Santa Story

Because I always enjoy an extra parenting challenge, I headed to the mall on Saturday with all the kids in tow to see Santa.  Much to my surprise and delight, there was almost no line!  On a Saturday!  (This is not always true for my family).

My six year old was eager to go first.  He scrambled up on Santa's lap and after he told Santa what he would like please, Santa asked him if he had been good this year.

Ever honest, he couldn't answer that one quickly.  He scrunched up his little face and asked slowly and seriously:

"Weeellll, hasn't the Elf on the Shelf been reporting to you??"

Elfish Activity

My six year old son came home from school, full of excitement about his friend's Elf on the Shelf.  "It's so cool!!  You can't touch him, he's magic, he watches you and reports to Santa, he comes every morning and you have to find him when you wake up!"  Whew!

I had thought about getting one for a year or two, so now seemed like the right time.  After much deliberation, the kids came up with his name:  Hedgy Miles Maximilian.  If you know my kiddos, you can see who had the most influence with the first name.  (For the record, when Miles was suggested, this same child seriously added "per hour" to complete the name.)

Hedgy has been seen on the tree, reading a book about Jesus' birth and in a few other places, including this one:

The kids are getting up way too early to find out where Hedgy will be each day.  So far, Hedgy has not disappointed and forgotten to return; hopefully that trend continues.  Though I haven't tried to push "The Elf is watching - be good!", if that happens on its own, I won't complain!