My purse is full of Kleenex, three flavors of Riccola, Honey-lemon Halls and Germ-X.
My most used phrase is, "That is your shirt sleeve, this is a Kleenex--No, don't use ME!! Gahh!!"
If I'm not saying that it's, "Don't touch me until you wash your hands.” Yes, thank you, I am such a sensitive mom.
School is getting done, we have clean clothes to wear and dishes to eat off of. The tree, garland, lights and tchotchkes are all put up. I’ve only moved the Ferris-Coaster Wheel around the living room about seventy-nine times and the telescope follows behind. It’s parked in front of the television right now. Once a friend came over and as we were sitting and talking, she told me, “I always like to come here because it feels so lived in.” After she realized that didn’t come out as quite a compliment, she went on to explain that you could see our interests and that living occurred in our house on a day to day basis. And she wasn’t afraid to touch things. (Thankfully she didn’t know about the dust monsters that lurk beneath the sofa. They would make anyone afraid.) No one would ever accuse me of having an elegant home.
My husband, kind soul, drove to dance Saturday night—to the second of ten performances the boys had. He worked backstage with all the moms! And I actually had three hours alone. I felt like I should be blogging, but turned up the Christmas carols, finished the garland and sat in the twinkling lights and listened. And just sat there. I don’t remember how long it’s been since I just sat. It was nice.
Church was lovely, we had a pianist and an organist and a large choir and several accompanying instruments. The homily was so pertinent and the boys were well behaved and the two older couples who sat behind stopped us to tell me how much they enjoyed sitting behind my children. And that they were handsome too! That was a “Mommy present” that can’t be wrapped and put under the tree.
The boys did their lessons today without a fuss. Their piano practice included some Christmas songs and they are now in bed pretending they are going to sleep. I’m pretending I can’t hear them quietly telling stories.
Hope you all are well in your corner of the world…
This I recall to my mind, therefore have I hope. It is of the Lord’s mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not. They are new every moring: great is thy faithfulness. The Lord is my portion saith my soul: therefore will I hope in him. The Lord is good unto them that wait for Him, to the soul that seeketh him. It is good that a man should both hope and quietly wait for the salvation of the LORD. Lamentations 3: 21-26