Great evening at home with the kids

When I got home last night the kids were in dress-up mode.

In honor of Movember, I decided to heighten the fun and add stick-on mustaches to their get-ups. But the Davises were not as enthralled with this idea as I was. 

I had to bribe Cary and Dean to keep theirs on long enough for me to snap a picture, and Clair isn't old enough to understand bribing, so she just cried and then ripped hers off and threw it on the floor.

(Note: That dinosaur costume is really made for someone Clair's size, but Cary refused to take it off all night. He made us all call him "Dinosaur Cary" and he roared at us 'til bedtime.)

Later on in the night, the kids were all "co-wing" -- Clairspeak for "coloring" -- with pens and stray pieces of paper. This happens quite a bit; there's lots of scribbling and pen-poking and usually nothing really worth noting comes out of their artistry.

But last night, Dean drew an actual person! For the first time ever! 

"It's you, Mommy," he said. "On the beach!"

Awwww. I was really very impressed. One of the fascinating things about parenting is watching how children develop. Sometimes you can see things happening gradually, as with Cary right now and pre-reading. And other times, it's scribble, scribble, scribble, scribble, and then BAM! a stick-figure with a head, eyes, legs and curly hair!

And finally, I felt good about our decision to get our butts to church again when this conversation happened:

Clair, climbing up the stairs, whining because she thinks she's going to fall: "Ah fall! Ah fall!"
Me to the boys: "Cary and Dean, go tell your sister she's OK and that she's not going to fall."
Cary: "Clair, it's OK. Don't be scared. God is always with you."

Isn't that so sweet? I don't think Clair bought Cary's encouragement, because I had to stop what I was doing and come get my poor whining girl, frozen on the stairs. But it doesn't matter. I felt so great about Cary (CARY!) rushing to help his sister, and remembering what they're learning in children's church when he did. 

A rare moment of Cary looking sweetly at Clair. Could we be turning a corner?

And then we all had dinner together, all five of us, and there was cookie-cake for dessert, gifted to us by a friend! 

All in all, it was a really, really good night.

(Until I woke up at 4 in the morning in a full-on heart-racing, blood-coursing in my ears, can't regulate my breathing panic. But that's a post for another day.)

Thinking hard about Christmas, faith and Santa

This is a hard post to write, because it is me looking hard at myself, seeing where I have fallen short and owning up to it. It is about religion -- what I believe about it -- so if you are not a fan, feel free to skip this post.

Yesterday the kids were looking at a photo of themselves from last year. Michelle had it taken while we were at work, as a surprise gift to us. It's of them with Santa Claus, looking miserable as can be (but still cute). They didn't get the whole Santa thing at 1-and-a -half, and they only sorta get it now.

So, sitting in front of our Christmas tree, I decided to explain.

I showed them YouTube videos of Santa in his sleigh, dropping brightly-wrapped gifts off for good little boys and girls. I taught them the "Santa Claus is coming to town" song. I laughed when Dean told a whining, crying Cary: "Stop it that noise, Cary! Santa Claus won't bring you any presents!"

I thought it was all so cute, I told that story to Lester after the kids went to bed.

And my wise husband said, "Hmmm. I wonder if we should have talked to them about the real meaning of Christmas first before introducing the Santa/presents concept." He said it in a very non-judgmental way, like he was really just thinking of it for the first time.

I stopped in my tracks, realizing that he was right. I -- we -- screwed up big time. He thought of it for the first time last night, but *I* hadn't thought of it at all. Ugh. Ugh. And oy!

I know that we can still go back and talk to them about Jesus, and help them understand on a 2-year-old's level how the two things (sorta) go together. So it's not like all is lost. I know that.

But I'm disappointed in myself.

As long as Lester and I have been dating seriously, we've consistently said that we wanted to make sure our kids had a good sense of God in our lives and theirs.  But ever since Lester and I stopped going to our old church, we have been woefully delinquent in that department. We haven't taught the boys about praying (except for at night and sporadically before meals); we haven't read the Bible (save a few kids' Bible stories). We haven't talked to them about God in any clear and consistent way. Worse, we haven't shown them by example that we intend to live our lives with God at the center.

And now that Christmas is here -- a perfect time to talk about religious traditions and what they mean and why -- I went straight for the secular.

I'm not even one who thinks that you *have* to go to church to be a person who has a heart for God.
But for us, it seems that without the accountability of a church home and family, we slowly have let our faith lapse. That worries me on so many levels.

Without going into private details, I'll just say that coming from a family where I think Mom and Dad did so many things right, except that, I have a heightened sense of anxiety about what can happen to a family where there's no sense that you have a purpose on this Earth other than to serve yourself.

So I have to do better. We have to do better. Whether we find a church home or not, there's no reason not to at least talk to our kids seriously about what we say we believe and value.

This is incredibly important to our family. And we just can't make any more excuses.

Blogfriends are a blessing

When I decided to start a blog, I had no idea what the outcome would be.

I wasn't sure if it would end up being more of a chore to do, or so boring that I'd have to drag myself to do it. I really wasn't sure if I'd have the sticktuitveness to keep it up, keeping in mind my hectic schedule (and Gemini-personality).

And I didn't share the blog with anyone close to me for quite awhile, because I didn't know how much I wanted folks so closely involved in all of my thoughts and activities; I didn't want to be judged; and I was pretty sure no one would give a good gosh darn about any boring thing I had to say. How many frikkin' Mommy blogs are there out there anyway? Compared to some of the really popular ones, mine is mundane to the nth degree.

Let me just say, many months later, I am SO glad I started this blog!

Many things are gratifying about blogging, including the ability to sort out my own muddled thoughts about things when confronted with a blank screen and a keyboard. And I am extremely excited about having a real record of Dean and Cary's early months on Earth -- for their sake, later on in life.

But one very unexpected treasure about having a blog is the tremendous support and encouragement I have gotten from people I barely know or don't know at all!

Commenters -- mostly from LauraC's fanclub -- have chimed in when I was anxious, unsure, sick-and-tired or just plain tired. Each comment has bouyed me, lifted me up, informed me or, at the very least, made me laugh. (I can't tell you how nice it is to laugh when you've been up all night with two irrational babies who think 2 a.m. is a great time to wake up and scream for two hours).

Yesterday, I was about as down as I've been in a long time. I was scared, depressed, sad, guilt-ridden and bitter.

My newfound blogfriends (and some of my friends IRL) jumped in with practical advice, encouragement galore and real sympathy, all of which I SO needed. I'm so grateful for these ladies who share their wisdom and kindness with me, without even really knowing me. I feel truly blessed.

I still feel many of the things I felt yesterday, but with support, encouragement and love from (near) strangers, I somehow feel more capable of tackling this problem. With grace.

I know not everyone is a Christian, and I don't try to push my religion on others. But I do have to say that I know for a fact that God works and speaks through people. And so, through something as simple as commenting on a worried-woman's blog, I can see and feel God's love.

And no one could have ever told me that starting a blog would have resulted in something as beautiful and phenomenal as that.