The second day of the New Year was the last day of winter break. Since we had been traveling and visiting family during the holidays, we were excited to spend a full day in our pjs, watching movies. We had the movies all picked out, starting with what my kids call “Stage Encanto” (Or Encanto at the Hollywood Bowl on Disney+). Clearly, we needed to start the New Year with a 10th viewing.
At 8am, we were snuggled in. Jammies. Coffee. Apple juice. Cheerios. Mirabel was singing about “waiting for a miracle.” Then poof.
The power went out.
With movie day gone, we thought this was an opportunity for a different kind of family day. We pulled out our new LEGO sets from Santa, spread out the bricks on the dining room table, and started to build.
It was fun. For a while… Let’s just say: attempting a LEGO set for the 12+ age range with a 5+ child and a 3+ child is interesting.
On the Tuesday before Thanksgiving, my daughter and I went on a quick errand to the craft store. As we walked in, my daughter grabbed my hand and pulled me back.
“We can’t go in there,” she said.
“Why?” I asked, looking around for danger, “What’s wrong?”
“That!” she proclaimed, pointing to the display window. “Look at all that Christmas stuff. It’s not Thanksgiving yet! Santa shouldn’t be there. We can’t go in.”
I laughed, because clearly she’d heard my ranting about rampant consumerism pushing Christmas a full month early. “I’m know it’s ridiculous,” I said finally, “I don’t like it, but we need to get the candles for worship on Sunday. We have to go in.”
She gazed up at me, worried. “You’re going to be okay, then?” she asked, before offering a solution: “Should we hide our eyes from the Santas?”
“Good idea,” I said. “Let’s just not look at it.”
“No! Don’t go!” my children each clung to a leg.
I threw my travel mug and keys on the counter, making my hands available to put one palm on each kid’s soft hair.
“I’m sorry, loves. I want to stay, but I have to go to this meeting.”
My 5 year old daughter looked up at me, tears streaming down her face, “I wish you were a doctor,” she proclaimed, “Then you wouldn’t have to leave us at night for meetings.”
I giggled a bit inside. “Oh sweetie, if I were a doctor, I’d be on call and I’d work All. The. Time.”
“Then I wish you were a scientist,” she said, “and every night you’d come home from your lab and stay here with me.”
“I know, I know,” I said hugging her tight, and choosing not to tell her of our dear friend, a scientist who works exceptionally long hours.
This Blog chronicles the life and times of this Pastor, Mama, Wife, and Child of God
Welcome to our chaotic and funny, yet always blessed life. I hope you find God’s presence in your life through our family’s stories.