Overcoming PHSD (Post Holiday Stress Disorder)

Ahh the joys of post-holiday days.  It’s so fun to wean three boys (not to mention myself) off of a lifestyle of candycanes at 9AM, no naps, and late evenings filled with an endless dessert buffet and pop!  We had a wonderful week in Iowa celebrating Christ’s birth, and arrived home yesterday…..to reality.  The tree is still up, but the sugar has been collected and hidden, to be rationed conservatively over the coming months.  No one likes this change.  Tantrums and punishments have been making frequent appearances.  Legos have been confiscated, sticks of gum thrown away, all in an attempt to rediscover the kind, sweet boys that used to live here.  

We’re starting to see glimmers of our pre-holiday children, and despite the time of year or individual attitudes, our three boys stick together like glue.  Kenny had his Legos confiscated after refusing to help shovel the driveway.  Jacob couldn’t bear for Kenny to go to sleep without toys, so he snuck his beloved Transformer Rescuebots Police Station into Kenny’s room after bedtime.  In another match of brothers versus parents, Jacob had his gum taken away.  John couldn’t stand the thought of his brother suffering so and generously shared his gum ABC style (as in Already Been Chewed).  

It’s hard not to smile and show my glee at the deep bond they have with one another.  And it makes me wonder what stories they’ll tease us with when they’re adults and we’re reunited as a family.  I suspect hiking, roadtrips and outrageous boy stunts will top the list.  We’ll of course retaliate by feeding their children candy canes after breakfast:-).  

                        Grandpa caught in the act of serving gumballs for breakfast!

All I want for Christmas.....

I don't want a lot for Christmas
There is just one thing I need
I don't care about the presents
Underneath the Christmas tree….

Yes, it seems Mariah Carey and I each have just one thing on our Christmas lists this year….A GIRL!   Well I can’t speak for Mariah, but that was my response when my husband asked what I wanted.  I don’t long for the girl I’ll never have too much, but his query came at a weak moment.   The boys had spent the afternoon setting up booby traps on the patio, then luring me outside with kisses and promises of dancing.  Of course the moment my foot crossed the threshold, I heard the scream, “Get her!” which set off the bombardment of stomp rockets and balls.  Most of me found this completely hilarious, and I continued my role as unsuspecting victim for a good thirty minutes.  But a little part of me wondered, “Why me?”  Why can’t I be out shopping and getting nails done, or having a tea party with my daughter?  And if I have to have boys, why can’t they worship me and smother me in kisses and spoiling?  Why, God, why? 

I keep reminding myself that God knows what I need.  He knows I can handle a 3-boy-brawl, boys peeing in public places, and bloody noses.  And from the little bit of drama I’ve experienced, He knows I have absolutely no tolerance and would probably put a drama queen daughter up for adoption.  So it’s all for the best….at least that’s what I tell myself as I plan my revenge….a booby trap to end all booby traps!

The Problem with Perfection

Our Christmas tree is up, and far from perfect this year.  The ornaments are usually perfectly placed, with consideration for color and sparkle distribution, but not this year.  This year, my two 3-year-olds, in a fit of Christmas excitement, dragged a box of Christmas decor up from the basement completely on their own.  They tipped over the treasured ornament box and left balls strewn all over the furnace room.  All three boys were so into decorating the tree, they hung all the ornaments in record time (in a 3’x3’ section of the tree).  I was able to play it pretty cool…..ok, who am I kidding….I totally lost it by the end and sent them off to play so I could create a “pretty” tree.  I spread the ornaments out, but they kept being grouped by my 5-yr-old engineer.   The handmade Wizard of Oz ornaments are all on one branch, the kid-friendly Toy Story ornaments are all on another.  So I threw in the towel.  Our tree isn’t perfect this year, but it is a well-loved centerpiece for our Christmas celebration.  

And guess what else.  My floors are dirty, I haven’t started my Christmas baking, and my Christmas shopping is far from complete!!  But you know what I did on one of the three Saturday’s left before Christmas?  I joined my husband and sons for a trip downtown to explore Denver’s new Union Station.  We lounged around, chatted up Santa, and ate ice cream before returning to the suburbs.  

God never meant for us to create a perfect Christmas for our families.  Christmas was perfect at its inception.  His son was born in the barn of a nondescript, small town.  His first visitors were shepherds with their dirty sheep!  This was the atmosphere God created for His Prince of Peace to enter our world.  So I feel good about finding peace this year with the imperfections.  And filling the time I would spend making things perfect with making memories with my boys.  In a couple of years they’ll have no interest in decorating the tree with me.  So I’ll treasure my imperfect tree this year.  In a couple of years they’ll laugh at Santa, so we’ll take the time to chat up every Santa we encounter this year.  And I’ll continue to procrastinate on my to-do list so that we can cuddle after nap and do our advent calendar.  

I think Christopher Fry’s poem perfectly describes what God intended Christmas to be….

           

          The darkest night of the year

          The poorest place in the town.

Cold and a taste of fear

Man and woman alone

What can we hope for here?

More light than we can learn

More wealth than we can treasure

More love than we can earn

More peace than we can measure

Because one child is born.

Beautiful Threads

“In everyone’s life, at some time, our inner fire goes out.  It is then burst into flame by an encounter with another human being.  We should all be thankful for those people who rekindle the inner spirit.”  Albert Schweitzer

Have you ever found yourself with an extinguished inner flame?  How do you keep from becoming one of those people who lives the rest of their life in a cold, winter-like state?  I recently found myself in this predicament.  It scared me.  I’ve always been overflowing with joy, and suddenly, thanks to a mountain of circumstances, my fire was going out.  I tried to rekindle the fire on my own; I prayed to God for help, but what I failed to do until this last week was to be open and honest with the people who surround me.  Then, in a vulnerable moment, I shared with a group of women how I was losing my joy. 

Over the next few days, God used the people in my life to fan the fire in my soul.  There was a thoughtful gift left on my doorstep, a sweet card in my mailbox, a beautiful email in my inbox, and text messages encouraging me throughout the day.  During this same time, I had visits from my favorite out-of-towners; my two best girlfriends and my parents.  My flame is stronger now, no longer in danger of being extinguished.  God was faithful and answered my prayer.  And I was reminded how God uses people to do His work. 

I’m convinced that the threads of relationships are sacred.  When strongly woven, they can wrap us in God’s love and keep us warm through the blizzards of life.  I’m blessed to have beautiful threads in my life, and I’m obligated, as a follower of Christ, to serve as a beautiful thread in the lives of others.  This life is made to live in community.  What a grand and perfect design!

Learning to serve with love

It was a terrible start to the day.  I was in the shower, my husband already at work, and I hear screaming.  The type of screaming that makes you think someone lost an arm.  So I dash out of the shower, run down the hall naked and wet to find the culprit, a sick boy who was screaming bloody murder about having thrown up.  Being the good mom that I am, I sent him to sit on a hard surface until I could get dressed and tend the situation.  Cleaning up vomit is one of my least favorite mommy tasks, and I had a scowl on my face as I descended and started my search for the mess.  Turns out the vomit amounted to the smallest amount of spit on the leather sofa…whew!

Just a few minutes later we were seated around the kitchen table eating breakfast.  Each morning I read a bible story to the budding theologians from the Adventure Bible Storybook.  I shouldn’t have been surprised that today’s story was about Jesus washing his disciple’s feet before the last supper (John 13).  We had great fun discussing how gross their feet must have been.  But Jesus served his friends with selfless love.  It stung just a little to remember my reaction to cleaning up vomit.  And the passage provided me with a powerful reminder that it is in the throes of motherhood when we are most frequently tested on this subject.  Can I serve with a loving spirit?  Time will tell—it’s just the start of flu season.  Posting John 13 by the mop and bucket couldn't hurt either!