Christmas is winding down. Two kids and one dad are snoring. The other two are quietly playing with new treasures. I left my camera at my mom's house when we went there to play in the snow yesterday. Nutcracker pictures are coming soon...
I can't stop thinking about my blessings. This has been the whitest Christmas I have ever experienced. It started snowing late last night and didn't stop all night. Snow was falling as we woke up to delighted and eager sounds of our kids. I'm grateful for our warm beds, our health, our faith, our extended family, our friends. I'm grateful for our freedom, our jobs, our home, our four-wheel drive (seriously, this San Francisco girl is a wreck driving in the snow without it).
But mostly, I'm thankful for my kids. They teach me. They inspire me. They are fun! We have had a great time together these last two days. I don't like the fighting. I do love the laughter.
I can't help but be mindful of those who do not have warm beds or healthy children or jobs or freedom. I think of those who are so challenged by the snow they cannot see the beauty. I want to teach my kids to be mindful of them also and to realize we are blessed.
So, of course, I mention this to them and say we should clean out our house and find things others can use. We have so much. Louisa screaming and sobbing, "NO!!! I want all my stuff!!!"
Not to be one to compare my children...
When Jonah was that same age, he said, "They can have my pooh bear blanket." I wanted to say, "No, lets pick stuff we don't use" but I let him take his favorite blanket that he had never slept without in his six years of life. He gave it up and missed it for at least a year but understood that it went to keep someone else warm. Why is that hard for my little girl to understand?
Because she is a spoiled princess? probably. I always thought I would have a Laura Ingalls not a Nellie Olesen.
I'm braiding her hair tomorrow.
I didn't say everything was perfect, but we did have a wonderful Christmas. Oh, and my lovely children reminded me that my birthday is coming up. They were excited to figure out my age in dog years. 225. I was fine with my 40-something age until they did the math...
When was the last time you figured out your age in dog years? Yeah, that's right, it's ugly.
One more blessing to count. I'm grateful I'm not a 225 year old canine.