Seth and Lily- Snuggle Buddies.  Lily herded the kids this morning and woke me up in the early hours.  She and her brothers had been practicing for this morning all week long.  Seth would get so excited when Lily got home from school everyday, begging "plead Leely-plead pay Pitmat Eeb Bame (please, Lily, please play Christmas Eve Game).

The Calm Before The Storm- Tom nails sheets over all the doorways, every year, so the kids can't peek during the night.  This creates a frenzy in the morning, of course, with all the kids lined up behind the barricades. Tom and I snuck into the livingroom. lit the fireplace, and enjoyed a few minutes of peace before the stampede.  We love Christmas through the eyes of our children!

The Much Coveted Lego Harry Potter Castle....A total fluke to have found it after many many weeks of searching online and in stores. My mom discovered it, misplaced, on the bottom shelf in the Lego section of Walmart.  I nearly passed out.  Liam is convinced that he needs a longer Christmas break in order to finish building it.

The Tractor- Seth has wanted this and talked about it for months.  I was most excited about this gift because I knew it would bring him so much joy.  He has yet to master the art of driving it without running into the furniture and his family members, however.

The Droid- which again makes me far inferior in techno gadgets to my 13 year old daughter.  sigh.

The Zigs, which are too small.  Unfortunately the next size up is $25.00 more.



Upgraded DSi XL, to replace broken DSi- this got a squeal



concentrating hard on the Lego Power Miners- on top of my kitchen counters, which would normally be a "no-no"

Freeing Dobby- first to be completed of castle components

figuring out the Droid- excited not to be using the 7 year old hand-me down phone anymore

Tom enjoying his chance to sit and hang out with his family, even though  his wife crushed him at the Wii game we were playing..

Our new big screen TV, donated by a wonderful friend.

On A Normal Christmas Eve....
*Mothers would not be awakened by their 3 year old children, at the crack of dawn, demanding that they put on "Barney On Da Parm (Barney On The Farm)"
*Fathers would not be buying a Christmas present for their daughters at 7:05 am, in a crowd, at Best Buy (because they would have turned over a new leaf, by now, and had it done well in advance of today.)
*There would be a wholesome breakfast on the table, optimally including all food groups, but at least a protein, grain, and fruit. Twizzlers and Swedish Fish would not be on the menu.
*A brother would definitely not be screaming at his sister, at the top of his lungs, in the organic foods aisle, that she is a "butt hole."
*There would not be at least a half dozen instances of folks passing gas, in front of you, in the store, then walking away, leaving you begging for an oxygen mask.
*Fathers would not curse and mothers would not lose their patience for the thirty-seventh time by 5 pm.
*Children would not leave their candy wrappers everywhere, after their mother has spent hours vacuuming and sweeping
*Youngsters, high on twizzlers and swedish fish, would not punch each other in the head, repeatedly, until everyone is crying, at bedtime.

Many times today, friends have phoned or texted, completely out of their minds or somewhat bewildered, that their Christmas Eve wasn't so magical and that life really sucked.  They were feeling insecure and ashamed that this year they just couldn't get it together.... 

Somehow or other, I feel that way every holiday, every year.  So tonight I have decided to try something new.  Tonight I have decided that this chaos that we create, with our hustle and bustle, or the realities that we face that leave footprints on our souls and sadness in our hearts, the quarreling and bickering over things soon forgotten- THIS IS NORMAL.  Every other scenario is a script out of Hollywood that we've been brainwashed to believe is how things "should be."  (Though, I suppose that there is a distinct possibility that if we let all the materialism and consumerism go, and moved into the woods, with no technology or other modern miracles, we might have that "Little House On The Prairie" ah-ha moment.  But even back then, Ma and Pa were probably trying to get some under the mistletoe when Pa had to grab his rifle and fend off a coyote and the kids were crying that the wood was running out and they were freezing to death....)

Ben, the non-conformist, who refused to wear the  matching Christmas outfit..and who had to be threatened within an inch of his life to have his picture  taken in front of our tree.  These are the things you don't know when you get other people's nice family photo cards....

Now I've gotta go kiss Santa Claus before he drinks one too many beers and begins snoring while assembling a tractor.

the two of us, doing a guided meditation?  totally hilarious... and necessary.

I took my 7 year old to the doctor late this afternoon.  A half hour through our appointment, she asked if we would do a guided visualization with her...(Are you laughing yet?)....So we got comfortable on the couch and the music began.  The voice on the CD declared that we should picture ourselves on an elevator and I immediately got very nervous- not because I personally have a problem with elevators, but because my son is terrified of them (I happen to love them, which, perhaps, is why I need to take the stairs more often).  So I'm thinking that this is not going to be the relaxation the Dr. had imagined. But, surprisingly, things carried on without incident.  About ten minutes into the exercise, I peeked over at Ben, thinking that since he hadn't uttered a word, that he must be in a coma, or dead-and there he was,  playing with his eyelids, sticking his tongue out,  and rolling his eyeballs around in his head with amazing speed.  I just smiled and was completely impressed. 

Today I am embracing courage, which I have learned is stepping out, not in confidence, but in fear.  I have reached the end of my treatment in this program  and I've been asked, as all patients are, upon graduation, to give my testimony to wellness.  Wellness, in many ways, eludes me, so I will settle for simply telling my story, with the hope that it evolves into something meaningful to those of you who are listening. 

Over the last six months, three of my four children have been diagnosed with "special needs.:"  I immediately went about reading every morsel of detail I could find, making appointments with specialists, and shuttling each of these kids to doctor after doctor, wanting to find answers and make them "better."  By the end of September I was so exhausted with anxiety and panic that their lives would be frought with difficulties and that I was not the right mother for them.  At my worst point, I laid on the asphalt, just outside of my van, and wept, having taken my youngest son for one more evaluation. I was barely sleeping and no longer keeping what food I could eat, in my body. 

On the morning that I arrived, in this place, I was completely incapable of sitting in a chair without shaking uncontrollably from head to toe. I was sobbing so hard that the Doctor insisted I be secluded in the office so that I would not scare the other patients. There was talk of a trip to the Emergency Room- and I had just left a twelve day stint in the hospital the night before. Fear gripped every cell of my being. My eyes begged everyone that met them for help.  It was Friday, October 15th. In those frightening hours, I could not imagine that the limited time I would be given here, in this place, could undue my brokenness.  I had hoped, though,, that when it was my turn to leave, to fly, it would be with wings that were completely healed; wings that remembered how to soar and could do so higher than they ever had before. I had hoped that I would know that I was ready and that there would be some sort of guarantee that I would not fall again. I had hoped that I would no longer feel pain. That my injuries would be fixed. That I would be whole.