So, it’s Christmas Day, one of my favorite days in all the year. Baby is sleeping, and Daddy is playing video games with his brothers and possibly eating and definitely participating in the making of GIFs to tease said brothers.
I am playing with my new and extravagant and totally unexpected toy, a new computer, which I’ve been pining after in order to get back to my usual writing self. Thanks, hubby. I’m supposed to be taking a nap right now, but with all the excitement, I just can’t sleep, so I decided to give myself permission to play quietly in my room. *grin*
As I told my Sister, I truly hope you’ve all availed yourself of the opportunity to enjoy my radio silence, because as of now the yammering commences in full earnest. However, if these last 10 months have taught me nothing, I now know that it is much harder to be a working mom of a new baby who also keeps up a blog than I ever thought it was going to be. No wonder those “working moms” blogs all seemed to have fallen by the wayside.
The holidays have been good to me, as I dearly hope they’ve been to you. I’ve really felt the love from all directions.
I even got myself a tulle skirt for a gift… Shameless…
Of course, seeing my Bear enjoy his first Christmas has been adorable, although he really has no clue what’s happening and just wants to be home with his own stuff ruling his mom’s life and never taking “nap” for an answer. Diaper changes are also unacceptable, by the by.
I love Christmastime for all the wrong reasons (presents, overindulgence, sweets, concoctions) and all the right ones (family, giving extra, Advent, meditations on Christ, church time, time off to rest).
This year, I missed out on baking cookies and finishing our daily Advent readings because we have both been working so hard, and then we were downed by a stomach virus one week before Christmas.
I’ve been reminded this year more than ever that the beauty of Christmas is that our Savior showed up, as a humble babe to a humble family, right in the middle of MESS. Dirty stable, terrible political climate, shameful oppression and spiritual darkness, embarrassed and harried parents, poor and outcast shepherds — all the burning, bubbling turmoil that really seems more thematically inclined to a cauldron on Halloween — in the midst of it, Jesus came in and asked us to herald His life with rejoicing in song. He knows the mess and loves me still. I love Him too.
Merry Christmas, and rest in the midst of all the mess.