All is Calm, All is Bright

Wait.  Nothing is calm.  Although, that would be a Christmas miracle for the ages.  Nevertheless...

Last night post nativity, we went to a friends home where we were treated to a meal fit for royalty.  It was dreamy.

Then as the snow began to lightly fall, we headed home so the kids could unwrap their matchy jammies, read some Christmas stories, sing some Christmas carols, and get snuggled in their beds so visions of sugarplums (and/or toys) could start dancing in their heads.

Basically, it was picture perfect.

Allen would even dare say our best Christmas Eve to date.  

He would hear no arguments from me.

Saying good night.

Saying good morning.  At 7:15.  High-fives and fist bumps all around.

We desired an obligatory stair photo, because we actually have stairs worth photographing, but my camera is misbehaving and only my zoom lens is working.  And us smooshed up on the stairs is as good as it is going to get.  

 The kids ran to see what Santa had left them.  I'd say they were pleased.

 Tess is clearly my most (only) even-tempered child.  Bless her.

It most certainly was a merry Christmas.

  A Christmas that felt like home.

And even if my days are rarely calm, I can say with absolution they are bright.
Bless these people and that gospel and this God that make it so.

I am happy.  We are happy.  Life is bright.

The Twelve Days {before} Christmas!

In keeping with our tradition to attempt to make Christmas more than a 5-minute Santa-focused unwrapping event, our 12 days of pre-Christmas celebrations:

On the first day of Christmas we wore new Santa hats and munched on peppermint pretzel snacks.  And they were goooood.

 On the second day of Christmas, we dipped and decorated and ate ourselves sick.  Also, Grandma and Grandpa Wallace flew into town!!

 On the third day of Christmas we exploited said grandparents.  Baking and game-playing and eating galore.

 On the fourth day of Christmas we said goodbye to our grandparents and cuddled up for a Christ-centered Christmas read.

 On the fifth day of Christmas, school was canceled for snow and we pretended to be angelic.

 On the sixth day of Christmas we made tasty teacher gifts.  Or at least I hope they were tasty.  They certainly were germ-filled.

On the seventh day of Christmas, we made a gigantic mess.  I mean, snowflakes.

 On the eighth day of Christmas we were entertained at the elementary school sing-a-long.  I took videos.  And I am way too lazy to upload.  Just know they were merry and bright.

On the ninth day of Christmas we wrapped up and delivered goodies to friends and neighbors.  Uhhh-mazing Caramel Popcorn varieties for the win!

 This has nothing to do with Christmas, but they're super cute.  Moving on...

 On the tenth day of Christmas we toured the Turtleback Zoo lights with fabulous friends.  And sat on Santa's lap.  And rejoiced in a 70 degree December day.

On the eleventh day of Christmas we made Santa's very most favorite treat: peppermint brownies.  Side note: Tessa hates peppermint.  Obviously somewhere, something went terribly wrong (I'm thinking, hospital nursery).

On the twelfth day of Christmas we celebrated the birth of a baby.

We all had several roles to play.

I make a pretty convincing Joseph.

Watching my baby Mary instinctively kiss her baby Jesus was a spiritual experience.

And then we watched it done right.

I love Jesus.

Amen.

Whitewashed

The last two Tuesday's of school were canceled because of "treacherous snow conditions."  Someone is in obvious need of a dictionary, because there was nothing treacherous about it.   Buuutt, we did enjoy the time off.  The kids especially.  They were outside from the time they woke up until the sun went down.     

Eden watching her brother and sisters frolic.  I told her she wasn't allowed.

She was not satisfied with this answer.

 She always wins.

 And hot dog, this girl is a fan.

 And can I just say the absolute best thing about this street is the neighbors.  The homes on each side of us each have four kids as well, and the house across the street has 3.  In fact, there are 26 kids on our street.  In nine homes.  All our kids' ages.  Quite possibly, the best thing to ever happen to these little people.

 And me.  Because unplanned play dates are the only way to play date.  It's how we grew up.  And how I fully intend my children to grow up.  With friends over.  And over at friends.  And all I have to do is yell out my door to bring them home.  

This feels right.

 Also, this weekend we had two 60+ and one 70 degree day.  Taking all the white away.  We call that a Christmas miracle around these parts.

Santa and Tree Lightings and Fireworks, OH MY!!!!

As brand, spanking new residents of Berkeley Heights (which, did you hear, was rated the #6 best town in all of the U. S. of A?!?), we are determined to take advantage of all she has to offer. 

Our first exposure occurred on December 1st, the night of their annual Christmas Tree lighting.

The weather was frightful.  Like 17-degrees-my-fingers-are-sure-to-fall-off frightful.  But those Berkeley Heighters did it right.  

They carted Santa in on a lights a-blazing and sirens a-ringing Firetruck.  Then we caroled.  And Santa high-fived the children.  Because there is no time for lap-sittings when noses are numb.  We took advantage of the hot cocoa and cookies, then counted down from ten at which point a most impressively-sized evergreen lit the sky.  

 To celebrate, fireworks were fired.  Like the 4th of July. We all let our jaws drop.  Then quickly put them back in place, because no one enjoys a frozen tongue. And within 30 minutes, the whole ordeal was complete.  Efficient those Berkeley Heighters are.  These are my people.

 And would you believe it: People said, "Merry Christmas!"  Not a "Happy Holiday" to be heard.  And, don't get me wrong, I have no problem with "Happy Holidays" but a "Merry Christmas," it's just that it's so much more, merrier.

 And should that not be enough, there was a nativity.  With Mary and Joseph and no Jesus.  Which made me question the riff raff of Berkeley Heights until I learned that Jesus is placed in the manger on Christmas day, because the advent is all about waiting for a Savior.  And then I fell in love a little deeper with this sleepy little town.

We came home frozen to the bone.  I whipped up a quick batch of our own hot cocoa, we sipped until we thawed, and then declared it a most perfect first day of December.  

Good start Berkeley Heights.  Good start. 

Trimming the {HUGE} Tree

With still 88.8% of boxes left to be unpacked, Allen had to make a most important and urgent purchase.  Plus, it was Black Friday, so if not then, when?!?

He has waited our entire married life for a 12 footer.  And the second the opportunity presented itself, he ceased it.  

We will call this an admirable trait.

It is a pretty rad tree.  With a quick flip of the switch, the lights will turn to white or multi-colored, and hot dang, you wouldn't believe the number of fights that sweet little invention has already eliminated.  Bless you LED.

She's a beauty.  And we will enjoy her for many years to come.  

Well done, husband.

And while this house is empty and echoing, it is beginning to feel a lot like Christmas around here, and even in an empty and echoing house, that feeling is magic. 

Thanksgiving!!

Soooo, we moved!  As in, we are in THE house.  The one that was starting to feel like a make believe dream. It is all still a little shocking.  But a good kind of shocking. We moved in the Tuesday before Thanksgiving.  And worked like crazy people to get the house (and by house I mean three rooms) show ready, because we were hosting Thanksgiving just 48 super short hours later.

We had three families share in our feasting and it was a fabulous time.  At the end of the night, Allen just sat back and said, "That was good."

Sitting in our new home, enjoying our family and friendships and food.  It was good. So very, very good.

The adult table.

The kid table.

We are still working like crazy people turning this house into a home.  It's a sort of feeling I don't need ending anytime soon.