Best Laid Plans. . .

What is that quote?  Something like, “the best laid plans of mice and men always go astray?” 

These words coupled with the insightful words of C.S. Lewis. . . 

“The great thing, if one can, is to stop regarding all the unpleasant
things as interruptions of one’s ‘own,’ or ‘real’ life. The truth is of
course that what one calls the interruptions are precisely one’s real
life — the life God is sending one day by day.”

. . . give an almost perfect description of our Christmas holiday.  From beginning to end it seemed that as soon as a plan was made, it was changed.  Looking back, however, I see just how true it is. . . life really is in the interruptions. 

We typically spend Christmas Eve with Chad’s family.  Unfortunately, my FIL came down with pneumonia which delayed those plans.  Chad and I quickly adjusted our plans and decided we would Santa would surprise the kids with Christmas morning just a couple days ahead of schedule.

When Charlie woke at his normal time (a.k.a. far too early) he glanced under the tree, looked at Chad and exclaimed, is it Christmas??!!  He read the note to Chanelle and the two of them excitedly danced around the house. 

It was like a surprise party and Christmas all rolled up into one happy morning. 

We had the most low-key Christmas to date.  Just the five of us huddled together. As soon as homemade cinnamon rolls were out of the oven we gathered together in the living room.  One by one gifts were open and squeals of excitement escaped their mouths. 

Chad and I sat back and watched as they lingered with their gifts.  We watched as Chanelle assisted Meadow with every tear of the paper.  We watched as the magic of Christmas morning did it’s thing. 

We lingered in p.j.’s.  We played.  We relaxed.  We enjoyed every second of our surprise Christmas morning.

We spent our afternoon in the laziest of ways. . . learning new games, exploring new toys, and just being together before ending the day in our makeshift cinema. . .

After we tucked three happy kids in bed I looked at Chad and expressed what I’d been feeling the entire day. . . this is the Christmas I’ve always dreamed for us. . . it was so simple. . . I’m so happy.

Of course, Christmas wasn’t over yet.  The next day (after everyone went to the doctor) we loaded in the car and made the the trip “home” a day earlier than planned. 

This was the first year we’ve spent Christmas Eve at my Dad’s house.  However, a different location doesn’t mess with tradition. . .

Chanelle wanted to be sure to thank Santa for her gifts. . .

Cookies and milk were carefully placed. . .

And reindeer food was scattered outside. . .

 

I stood in the freezing cold and watched my Dad help my little girl up the front stairs and I had one of those surreal moments.  One of those moments that almost takes your breath away and sends you reeling backward in disbelief. . . I’m the Mom now, I thought to myself.  That is my little girl. . . with my Dad.
Do you ever have the moments?  Those moments when the simple beauty of the cycle of life is almost more than you can stand? 

Christmas does it to me. . . every time.  You see, my childhood Christmas memory book is packed full from beginning to end.  From the day the tree went up to the day the tree came down, traditions were scattered everywhere.  Being home and watching some of the same traditions unfold with my own kids proved to fill my heart to the brim with happiness.

At the top of the list was Christmas morning.  Just as it happened for all my pre-marriage years,  my Dad blared White Christmas from the stereo and ran down the stairs to my wide-eyed, waiting blondies.  His excited voice could be heard throughout the house. . . OH BOY! OH BOY!  DID SANTA COME?  OH BOY OH BOY!!  DID HE COME DID HE COME?  LETS GO SEE! LET’S GO SEE!!!  DID HE COME???

 

I stood in the stairway and watched as my own children experienced this tradition that I experienced each Christmas morning for years and years and years.  I watched as my Dad grabbed them from the bed and swung them out of bed and then put them back in bed and then took them out of bed and then stalled and repeated over and over until their excitement (and a bit confusion) matched his. 

It’s the little things, friends. The little things. 

If it all ended there, I would be happy.  But of course, it didn’t. 

After the agony of waiting for the cousins to arrive. . .

The day is filled with a whole lot of hanging out and catching up. . .

Playing games. . .

Experimenting with new toys. . .

Modeling new clothes. . .

. . . and of course a delicious meal to complete the day. . .

We all made our departures pretty quickly after the meal due to the impending snow storm.  (More on that later. ) 

As I sorted through pictures this afternoon I asked Chad. . . do you know why I’m so happy I take pictures?  He didn’t answer, because that’s just how we roll.  He knew I’d tell him whether he wanted to hear it or not.  I told him, I’m so glad I take these pictures because the days really do go by so fast sometimes that it’s hard to really take it in. 

It’s true.  Christmas is over and it seemed to happen in a blink of an eye.  But I sat this afternoon and poured over these images and all that we did and I know that these moments frozen in time will be treasures we will have for a lifetime.  Treasures that we return to time and time again and remember the beautiful little moments that make up our lifetime. 

Chanelle summed the day up perfectly later that night as she leaned into me and whispered. . . Mama?  Do you remember what Poppy did when he came to get us up?

And then she smiled.

It was a good Christmas.