Sick on Christmas

Christmas is around the corner, so shouldn't I be filled with joy?

I love making hot cocoa and snuggling up with my family. I love brainstorming about the perfect gift for each family member and I love love love when they come in the mail! Wrapping is fun. Christmas smells are delicious. Mariah Carey Christmas tunes are music to my ears.

These things make me so happy.

But I'm not going to lie and say that I am constantly filled with joy when thinking about the approaching holiday. Actually it's quite the opposite. When I think about the actual days of Christmas festivities I start to feel a bit faint.

Like, sick actually.

I start thinking about missed naps, late bedtimes, tantrums, well-meaning family members who are way to willing to fill little children with loads and loads of SWEETS, traveling and toys that make noise!

This does not describe a joyful holiday for me.

I'm not here to complain though.

Here is a rundown of my first christmas with a child.

Actually, I just tried to access that part of my memory and I think I may have blocked it out.

All I can remember is Christmas day. It was not too bad,  but my little lady was running low on sleep because of Christmas Eve Eve and Christmas Eve with her other family. At seven months old, she sat on the floor while everyone opened their gifts. When it came time for hers, family members naturally wanted to hold her and open her gifts with her. I watched as she fussed and half cried, not wanting to be held. While people kept saying (in the best way possible) "No, you don't want mommy now, here! let's open some gifts!" I remember my brain being absolutely fried. FRIED. It was like, all of the check engine lights were flashing in my brain, all lit up saying "Leave her alone, she's just tired!!"

I wish I could remember the full Christmas to properly describe the days that preceded this one and led me to the breakdown, but I can't. And frankly, I don't think I want to.

I had to bring this to God because I absolutely could not have this happen every single holiday and we still had one more family to visit!

He showed me, what you are probably thinking right now.

I have control issues.

I know this, I know that I know what is best for my children, based on what God has shown me and past experience, but sometimes, even this has to be let go a bit. Hanging on to anything can develop into control. God was showing me that if I try to control everything-- even with the best intentions-- then I am not allowing Him to come close. I am actually keeping myself from experiencing God even more. More importantly, He showed me that this world is not ideal. It is fallen. When I try to ALWAYS  keep my children's environments at the ideal temperature, I am robbing them. I am taking away from them the opportunity to learn how to function in a less than ideal world, and I am actually (this is hard to type) keeping God further away from them as well. I stand in place of Holy Spirit who was sent to us as comforter and guide to learn how to navigate this world no matter what situation we find ourselves in.

Phew.

As are many things with God, this was comforting, refreshing and extremely hard to swallow.

How can I be ok just sitting back? WELL! That's where this past thanksgiving came into play. I tried just sitting back. Letting it allllll slide. The lady had lots of good thanksgiving food accompanied by 2 solo cups filled with orange juice, cherry pie, pumpkin pie and three layer cake. Family members smiled and giggled at her extreme desire for junk food and her oh so adorable tantrum when I tried to say no. When we got home (past her bedtime and with no nap) bed time was out of control. We both just sat and cried. It was terrible.

To God I went. What was going on?!?

He encouraged me to put the two together and see what happens. Combining what I know to be best, but with room for movement so that Holy Spirit could guide both me and my children creates BALANCE. He spoke that He has given me the ability to know what is best for my children, I have to stick to that, but I can't let myself go absolutely crazy when things aren't going exactly as planned. There has to be a balance.

So here is the balance challenge this Christmas. Christmas eve and Christmas day are planned. Last minute we are asked to tack on two more events back to back, making 4 days of family events in a row.

Excuse me while I grab a paper bag and take deep breaths.

I simply said no. Nope. No. We aren't doing both. I have a responsibility to my children and my family to keep the stress levels low--to make Christmas enjoyable.

This is in fact the celebration of our Savior's birth. It can be so easily forgotten.

Lord, help me as I keep trying to find the balance!

Any tips on how to keep Christmas' bipolar qualities at bay?

A house is not a home...

"And Jesus replied to him, 'Foxes have holes and the birds of the air have lodging places, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head."

Before I was married, but after I left home, I moved around a lot. Now that I am married, WE move around. A lot.

 Maybe it's me? 

In the seven years after high school I moved 8 times. In 4 years of marriage we have moved 4 times. I like to think that perhaps God knew what my marriage would look like so he prepped me to be an extra efficient purger and packer in the years leading up to it :)

 Or maybe I just have a home-commitment problem. 

Either way, because of the constant moving it's hard for me to really lay down roots, decorate in ways that I would like and really create a home that I want to live in and grow a family in.

During one particular move, I was extra emotional. We were moving from my absolute dream apartment to a house and a town that was just not... me. I remember unpacking our room while my husband was having some friends over to play cards. I was silently crying, and heard him tell one of our friends that I was not "handling the move very well." 

That's when I lost it. 

Total meltdown, crashed into a pile of boxes and sobbed. 

WHAT is our life? Why can't I settle God? Where are you taking us God?

 In between cries, I started thinking of Jesus. He didn't have a home on earth either. I perked up a bit, honored and humbled that God would let me experience a bit more of His son. I wondered how Jesus did it. 

My conclusion? 

The presence of God. 

He didn't have a home but he was so close to his father. 

Standing in a room of boxes, I knew what would make our house a home. And it wasn't the hardwood floors that I longed for. It was the presence of God. 

And again, I felt honored and humbled that God would choose little ol' me to walk this path.

What makes your house a home?

** Disclaimer: To my darling husband, this does NOT in any way mean that I don't want to move back to the city into a dream apartment. I would do that tomorrow. Or tonight, actually. Yeah. Tonight.