The Annual Huge Christmas Party

When we first moved to southern CA, after packing up everything we owned (in the pouring rain) and drove with two very young boys (both with the chicken pox, complete with fevers)...we arrived fresh faced and full of anticipation to what our new life here would be like.

Ok, totally not true.  We had 5 weeks notice of moving, we were leaving a life we loved and did I mention the two little boys with the chicken pox...on a road trip?

The dream of moving somewhere grand that we had dreamed about wasn't going quite how we had planned.  And then we pulled up to the little house we had bought (over the telephone, sight unseen...think life before the internet) and we sat outside with our itchy boys, stunned.

The dream was sinking even faster.

That first year here wasn't easy.  That guy that I like so much threw himself into a new career and in order to support us, worked a 2nd job.  I threw myself into raising boys and trying to not hate it here so much...and I was failing miserably because I really did hate it so much.

I wanted to go home.

The problem was...I didn't know where 'home' was anymore.  The life we had in the other places we had lived wasn't the same life we had before we moved.  This new life wasn't what I had thought either...the friendships were slow to come, the house never made the natural jump to becoming a true home and the dream of having another baby remained just a dream.

Life was...hard.  And a bit sad, too.

That first Christmas we threw a dinner for the university choir.  The previous director (who was much loved) used to host a dinner and so we felt we should, too.  I cooked and cooked and cooked...a roast with all the sides, a turkey with all the sides, a ham with all the sides.  Pies for dessert.  Pies!

The students came.  Many were appreciative.  Most commented on how things used to be.  I overheard one say it was boring.

It was...gulp, a nightmare.

Time moved on.  That guy that I like so much began to settle in and the hours became not quite as long and became just the normal crazy that church workers follow.  That baby that I longed for grew inside me.  Friendships began to develop, slowly, and we began to settle in.  The little house though...it still felt like a house.

Never before had we not felt at 'home' somewhere for so long.

One night over dinner, friends presented us with an idea...this idea to travel Europe with our kids, to see things in a new light, to experience old and weathered and history.  To not just visit, but to become a part of the culture and the places most just read about in books.

We saved our pennies, that guy that I like so much taught an overload, we didn't spend any money on the house or on anything really.  And then during our 3rd year here, we packed up three little boys, each with their own carry on suitcases, a case of diapers to get us started and off we went into the wild blue yonder.

Those months traveling in places where no English was spoken, where we spent all our time without an ounce of technology,  changed us.  We spent long nights talking while our boys slept...drinking (really super incredible) chianti while playing cribbage (without a board...too heavy to carry) and dreaming of living the way the europeans lived.  To work hard but know when to quit.  To throw open our doors and spend hours around a big table in a little house, to make ourselves a 'garden'.

On that trip, we began to see how people in other places lived.  That it wasn't about the size of house you lived in or the newness of your car or of the amount of hours you threw into your work.  We met (and talked) to so many new people...we were a spectacle in that we were this young family with three young boys and so striking up conversations wasn't hard.

Our eyes began to open.

I started to realize that I was so entrenched in what our dream was supposed to look like that I failed to see what God was laying out, nice and neat, right in front of me.

It was all right there.  

Our 'home' was us.  Whatever walls were surrounding us...as long as it was our little family and we were all together, well, that was home.  It has absolutely nothing to do with the building itself.

(best white elephant gift ever - along with a candy bar!)

Once back in the US of A, we began to settle in to our new normal.  The little house on our little street?  We began to make it ours...we started to make it resemble a house we had stayed in while traveling.  A little paint.  A little elbow grease.  A lot of nights with chianti and no television and cribbage.

There were still dreams...some that have happened and some that never would be.  More money in the bank didn't happen.  Incredible opportunities to travel did.  Friendships grew.  Another baby did not.  

Suddenly, we were home.

How is it that something so simple, so beautiful...was right in front of us and we didn't even see it?

Over the years that little Christmas party grew into a party that represents us.  There's an overflowing amount of Italian food and heaters in the garden and wall to wall people.  That guy that I like so much and I switch into party mode and we move rather seamlessly together, just like we do in our every day.  We've got a pretty good routine down at this point in our marriage.

But most of all, we work really hard so that we are guests at our own parties.  Sometimes it works smoothly, sometimes it's a bit more work...but more often than not it all falls into place.

But it's more than that for me.  It's a calling...a real, live, actual ministry.  I'm not directing a choir.  I'm not preaching or playing the piano.

I'm throwing open the doors to a little house with a big table and sharing what I do best...food.  And stories. 

There are always stories.

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I still wonder at things.  Why did it take so long to settle in?  Why didn't Europe come sooner?  Why weren't there more babies?  Why aren't some of my family relationships stronger?

But those whys are more like thoughts now rather than questions because a sort of peace comes with believing what I believe.  That God has already written my story.  Some of those whys have been answered; some won't be while I walk on this earth.

So this party where we 'pack the house' is so much bigger than my house ever will be.  There is laughter and joy.  There is screaming and yelling and the noise level is in the deafening stage.  We throw open the windows and they sing...beautiful carols and all my neighbors pour out of their houses to listen.

It's beautiful.  

And so, another one is written in the books.  The food was plentiful and so was the spirit.  

This is our home.

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Oh Christmas Tree

This morning, for the first time, my phone alarm didn't go off and I overslept by a few minutes.  

Yikes.

I hope things go better as the day goes on.

All the gifts that needed to be shipped have been shipped, the menus are (somewhat) planned, I'm pretty sure everyone has something to open on Christmas morning and aside from the food shopping...well, I think Christmas can now happen.

I've done things different ways on a different years...shopping all ahead of time and all last minute.  Both worked and the deed got done so my thought is do what works for you.  I'm a bit ahead of the game this year and it feels good...though I've also hit my max budget and my max patience for all the crowds.

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I sent the younger boys to go and get a tree this year...not the first time I've done that.  No instructions except it can't be taller than my 6'2" son.  I have no preference as to style, shape...just height because we have a little house and a lotta people coming through here.

While they did that, I cooked dinner...in the form of picking up the telephone and saying 'please'.  I did drive to pick it up...so there's that.

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I love the element of tree surprise...we never quite know what we're going to get but they always do such a good job.  And that guy that I like so much?  He's the lighting expert.  I usually just advise while having a glass of wine...you know, the whole 'you missed a spot' thing.

I swear, he's the best sport ever.  He might live with only one female in the house but pretty sure I have enough craziness to make it seem much worse...yet he says nothing.  Nada.  Zip.  He smiles and rolls his eyes and pours me another glass of wine.

We've got a good thing going.

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I love Christmas trees and this one smells SO good!  

The fog rolled in last night while we were eating supper and that whole gloominess that comes with it.  It's damp outside and the rain is coming...just in time for our big party on Sunday.  We've done it before and it always works out but it's so much easier to have 50 college students in a little space if they can eat in the garden.

Oh well...we'll see what happens.  They always have fun no matter what.

The list is made and today I'm running all the errands.  Costco and Trader Joe's and the dry cleaners and then there's stuff to go to the attic and a cabinet that's half painted (and will probably stay that way for the next 5 years, but it's on the list) and the dog needs a bath and there is another party to go to tonight.

Tis the season to be busy.  Fa la la la la la la la la la.

I know I should head out soon but the house is so blissfully quiet...every male has left the premises and everything is still.  Oh, how I love a still house. 

I love how God gives me the quiet times following chaos...and the chaos following the quiet.  There doesn't seem to be much 'in between' of those two things and because of that, I find so much joy in both.  The story of Jesus birth seems much like that...the hustle and bustle of being counted and finding a place to sleep and the baby being born followed by a bit of calm.  That for a bit, before the chaos began, God just smiled upon that little baby and let him sleep in his mothers arms for the night.

And so, I'm going to sit in my quiet for a bit and enjoy the gift...I'm thankful for it.

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A Christmas Miracle

I tossed and turned a lot last night and finally gave up and left my warm bed somewhere around 4:00am...I was worried my restlessness would wake up that guy that I like so much who so desperately needs sleep at this time of year and besides,  my phone starts humming around then with my east coast clients.  But this morning...since I am awake?  Radio silence.  

Go figure.

We had nothing short of a Christmas miracle last night...we were both home with nothing on the calendar.  Nothing!  On a weeknight in December!

It warranted the expensive bubbly...the Laetitia, which we splurge on having delivered to us 4 times a year.  It makes me feel grown up and...well, it just makes me happy.  And while we were sipping it, over a yummy hot baked pasta with sausage and eggplants and gooey mozzarella the UPS man walked in with our December shipment.

Il signo...a sign.

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And ignore the open cabinet...there was wet paint waiting to dry.  I had a vision, during the craziness of December, to paint weird places that no one ever sees.  I don't get it either but for some unknown reason that's what I'm doing...you know, with my free time.  At 4:00am.

So last night we did what we do.  We sat around our table and prayed and broke bread and then it began to happen.  Friends, one by one and none of whom overlapped, began stopping by.  Some shared a glass of bubbly.  Others a plate of food.  Others some sambuca, presented flaming with 3 coffee beans floating in it to symbolize the holy trinity.  

Man, I love the Italians.

We never left the table.  It was one of those nights where, once everyone left, I started to cry.  I dreamt of this...of a little house with a table big enough to welcome all.  A table where friends would feel comfortable enough to drop by for 5 minutes or 5 hours.  It was a dream that I had to sell that guy that I like so much on back in our early days...and now he's embraced it just as much as me.

That dream has become our real life.

And then I'd think sleep would come easily but it hasn't.  My prayer life is a bit non existent right now while my brain seems to be running on overtime with worldly stuff...the politics of this world, the endless to do list that surrounds this season, how to get a wobbly drawer to not wobble anymore.

You know, important stuff.

But my quiet time, my prayer time...I just can't form the words.  My heart is so full of worries and through it all...even though I can't seem to spit out the words into a recognizable prayer, I'm feeling as if there is a hand on my shoulder at all times.  I feel his presence...I feel it.  And so I am just resting in that.  And holding on.

This morning, once the sun comes up, I have to hit the ground running.  I have some work to do in a far away city followed by a meeting with my team here in Orange County.  I'm having a follow up X-ray and MRI on my arm later this morning which will hopefully be done in time for me to go to church at noon - there's a lovely old Lutheran church that does a great noon service during advent and there's something about singing hymns in the middle of the day that makes me feel joyful and all Christmasy...and then I'll head back home.

According to my calendar Christmas miracle #2 is going to happen...if I'm not mistaken, we will be all be home again tonight.  After this there isn't a break for quite some time but tonight?  We'll be gathered around our table.  

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Monday Morning

This weekend was packed full but began in such a lovely way...a quiet (if there is such a thing) dinner at my neighbor's house.  That guy that I like so much had a big rehearsal and Brian wasn't feeling so hot so it was just me and my middle guy...that time with just one boy at a time is always really sweet.

But more than that...I needed a hot meal really super bad.  Not one I cooked, not one I purchased but one I had to put absolutely no thought into...as in, can I please just walk in, have someone stick a glass of red wine in my hand and put a plate of delicious food in front of me?

 And it happened just like that.

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The house slowly got decorated in her Christmas finery over the weekend and it feels good.  The tree will happen at some point next week...sometime in between concerts 2 and 5 and when the middle boy can go haul it home from the store in his truck.  It'll come...and hopefully with a grande holiday spice flat white latte, nonfat please, in my hand.

  I'm dreaming of a stroll through Disneyland, too...add that to the 'when we have free time' wish list.

It will.  It always does...though sometimes the wait seems a bit long.

I think the shopping is pretty much done and while the wrapping has yet to happen, I'm not feeling the rush yet.  I've made lots of lists...the planning of the student party we are having here this weekend (little house, 50 college students) plus the meals that need to be cooked for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day and all the ones before that.

I find such joy with a good list.  My brain loves the process of writing things down and crossing things off and my boys all know that the first thing I'll say when they tell me of something they need is to 'put it on the list'.

I'll take whatever help I can get.

The annual fruitcake was baked a month ago and has been resting lovingly in the back of the fridge...or rather crammed in the back with a leftover pan of lasagne on top of it but hey, it's a fruitcake.  It can handle anything.

A few days a week I unwrap it and resoak the cheesecloth in rum and gently rewrap it...the smell is out of this world because seriously, it's rum after all.

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And last night we finally snuck a piece.  It was heavenly.  

I promise you, I'll make a fruitcake lover out of anyone.

Maybe.

If not...more for me.

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Brian's football banquet, all 3 1/2 hours of it was on Saturday afternoon.  It was so fun watching him play and while it was scary and he got hurt and now has a huge piece of hardware in his body for the rest of his life, I'm proud of him.

And I'm so glad he's retiring.

This morning I was out and about for work early before the sun even came up and now I'm home and the house is so quiet.  Everyone is gone to either work or school and it's just me home alone, something that doesn't happen often in this houseful of boys.

There are so many things I should be doing...laundry and floors and cleaning and work, but for now, I'm going to take my coffee and sit in the garden and enjoy the quiet for just a few minutes.  I have so many things to talk to God about but I haven't been able to form the words...but I love knowing that in the quiet he just reads my heart and knows.  

He just knows...and I'm thankful for that.

It's The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year

We had a rather small, rather expensive project that needed to be done - turns out when we knocked out a wall and turned a coat closet into a pantry and moved the door from the side to the front...well, shortly after (or during) we ran out of money and the inside of the pantry was never finished.

I had no problem with the rough finish...I mean, who saw it anyway besides me and a houseful of boys who don't notice a whole lot of that kind of stuff anyway.  They're only in there for the food.

But...and this is a big BUT, the back wall was just studs and the whole thing opened straight up to our attic.  

Critters live in attics and critters like food and critters who live in attics and have free access to food make for a not so good combination.  I will say, it took them a few years to catch on but once they did it became a bit of an issue.

We're not fancy people.  Our house is little and it's a bit behind the times to others, but we like it.  We have an original 1979 bathroom that I absolutely LOVE...it's got a pretty window with a garden view and hot water and a big mirror and we like it, which is all that matters.  Our walls have dents...all with a story attached.  The floors are scratched.  The electrical is iffy, at best.

But this pantry issue had to be taken care of, even though no one will ever truly see it because it's hidden behind this gorgeous beauty...a church window from 1910 France that a friend turned into a door for us.  This door has a story to tell...I'm sure of it.

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So anyway, the men came and due to the fact that new drywall costs more than my very first car...and a boy who ended up needing hand surgery at the end of the year, we had them rough finish it and then I took over.

I was on a deadline because, well...this is what my kitchen looked like.

A little paint, a whole lotta shelving and while it's not fancy it makes me SO VERY HAPPY.  

So if you come visit, please open the pantry door and ooh and ahh.

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And now, we eat beans for the rest of the month.  Well worth it.

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In other news, the cast came off and a new one was put on.  Brian is healing well.  This new cast is removable so he can shower...he'll be in it for another 8-10 weeks but then should be good to go.  He still needs X-rays every two weeks to make sure it's holding...if not, he goes back into a permanent cast but so far, so good.

He's so happy to be out of that clunker of a cast but man oh man, this was a doozy of an injury. That 'little' screw (according to the Dr) is in there forever...poor kid.

I told all the boys that mama is ready to retire from this sort of stuff.

Now.

A new place opened by us...Raising Cane's.  Alex turned 22 and since Vegas was his birthday gift all he got was a lunch out, so out to lunch we went.  

Chicken fingers and a fries is all they do and it was really yummy....though a bit high in the carb department.  Worth it though!

We're a bit slow in the decorating department but the bins came down and one brother lovingly (?) barricaded another in his room.  Never a dull moment around these parts.

The shopping is pretty much done...and this year I'm thankful for Amazon.  In a big way.

I keep reading about people who don't gift but I'm not one of them.  I love Christmas and we keep Jesus is at the center of it all.  But I also love what goes along with it...the food and the people and the giving of presents.  It's all done with love and I'm telling you...I don't know one person who doesn't like to open a present that's been thoughtfully picked out for them.  And the joy I receive watching them open it?  

Worth it all.

And throw me to wolves but, gulp...I kinda like the receiving part, too.  Ok, not kinda...I DO like the receiving part too.  It's not the size or the cost but for me, it's the thought...the thought that someone picked out a gift for me to open.  

Does that make me a bad person?  If so, add it to the list.

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Look at this gem.  

Ahhh...the things I'd like to tell her about life.  But I guess she figured it all out anyway.

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