The Expectation of SOMETHING

EXPECTATIONS.  If I had to tag this picture, that's what I'd call it.
It tells such a story.
Lanie is so happy to be opening her first Christmas present of the morning.  Lydia, while watching, is so hopeful, so expectant for her.  I love that image.
I'm not sure why Elijah's head is in his hand.  Maybe he just expected to be next in line to open his presents, but never fear, by the end of the day, his turn came several times.

Before the big grandparent, aunt, uncle and cousin gathering for the ultimate12-person gift opening craziness, we had our small family Christmas.  For the past 3 years, we've held tight to a theme.  On paper, it's pretty simple.  Each kid gets 4 gifts -


1. Something You Want. 
(Lanie got her wish for doll clothes)

















2. Something You Need.
(Lydia got her much needed bedspread.  She got her last one for Christmas when she was two and moving into the bunk bed from her toddler bed. It was definitely time.)

3. Something to Wear. 
( Elijah loves the random "What does the Fox Say" song that the rest of the world can't stand - but I gave in and bought him a shirt with a fox that says "ring-ding-ding-ding-ding" or something like that.  Oh, and behind him you'll see Lydia in her new owl shirt she immediately put one.)

4.  Something to Read.
(Of course, out of the 3, Elijah is the one who actually opens the books I got him and reads the first chapter.  Love my bookworm.)

I love the theme, and want to thank my friend Jenelle for ever sparking the idea in us.  It gives us parameters and purpose when buying.  Of course, because I am my mother's daughter, I like to go overboard and then push random gifts into those parameters.  But at least it's a start.

For me?  My joyful expectations for Christmas rested on two things -
1.  "Silent Night" by candlelight in my home church, Good Shepherd.  If I had to be anywhere else to sing this lullaby of Jesus birth, it would be here: My parents and my family of 5 squished into a pew, holding tight to our candles while the lights slowly fade to black.  If I'm not choked up, I always like to stop, be still and listen to the harmony around me.  This tradition happens in churches world-wide, and I'm not alone in how much I look forward to it, but to be in the church you were baptized in, grew up in, was confirmed in, and married in -- makes it all the more sweet.

2.  A family meal.  It's not often that every Buehring/Morrison/Downum/Ward gets to press 12 bodies around a table and share a home-made meal together. I can always count on a few things:  that at least one child (Lanie) will spill or get food on them, that Mimi will tear up during the prayer, that my children will eat only two things on their plate and run away, and that my undigested dinner will be followed up with too much banana pudding. And it all happened - just like I thought it would.

Thank you mom and dad for letting us invade your home, and completely mess it up.  Thank you for the time you gave to us, for the gifts you gave our family, and for all the surprises along the way. And while gifts are great to open, the expectation of coming home again was just what I needed.  

A Not-Quite-Snowy Christmas Eve

     If you live in a northern part of the world that sees snow and blustery weather on a regular basis, you may not have a complete understanding for those of us, with kids, that don't.  For those who have never spent a year past the Mason-Dixon line, I'd like to paint a picture for you.  Imagine you're a kindergartener and when October hits, the class units turn to Falling Leaves, Changing Colors, Seasons, Cool Weather and you're walking around in tank tops and shorts.  Then after Thanksgiving, the arts and crafts unit center around snowflakes and mittens and you're still wearing short sleeves and the typical southern five-year-old is wondering when snow will fall from the sky.
If you're lucky like us, you'll have grandparents who live in great states where snow always falls.

      What is unlucky though is that we can't plan the date of the big blizzard, and our wishes don't always play out in real life.

        We left our warm Texas weather and ventured into frigid Oklahoma, and by the time we stopped at a gas station in Dallas, it really was getting cooler.  Light coat worthy.  We had such anticipation.  Then when we cruised into Tulsa late at night, we had freezing temps. Mitten and hat worthy.  And in the mind of a child (and mine too) anything this cold should be accompanied by wet flakes.  Instead, we had frozen grass and icicles on trees and a few minutes of glorious dry flakes.  It isn't what you envision when you think of a true White Christmas (Eve),  but to these completely unspoiled snow kids, it was just as exciting as you could get.  They spent tons of time in and out of the house breaking icicles and throwing rocks at a frozen creek behind my parent's house.   When it came down to it, I was more concerned then they were that snow angels wouldn't be on the agenda for the day.

       And though I'm pretty disappointed we missed out on a winter wonderland, the mitten-worthy weather, the actual enforcement of heavier coats and being able to see our breath was just enough to satisfy these warm-weather kids.

(And we still have Nebraska to look forward to.)

Wherever you are -- may your Christmas weather be just what it you want it to be.

Perspective

Instead of trying to post all the things I've missed the past month, I am going to start with what's on my mind.
And no pics, not today.
A few days ago, I was emailing a friend and giving her the chronology of all the rotten things that had happened that day. Here are some snippets:

6:35am - we notice that Elijah's eye looks like a baseball - the little red and pus I saw yesterday is now a full blown pink eye.  I read on the internet that pink eye is only contagious if you touch your eye and then touch someone else'e eye.  I don't see that as a problem and Elijah should go to school but since he can't even see out of his eye -- it's looking like we have to scramble to figure out drop off and pick up. 

7:35 - call Kenny back and here was his morning:  Get out to the van to take the girls to school and Elijah to the minute clinic.  Van won't start. Borrows our neighbors car and realizes he left his wallet in the truck (which I have - 35 minutes away) and no easy tag to get through the toll booths to get to school. I promise to call back when I get to school so we can figure it out. 

9:15 - Call Kenny and he and Elijah used friend's car to take girls to school, drive to my school to get his wallet (paying $3.00 for the toll in credit card) and stopped at the minute clinic. Waiting much more than a minute to see a doctor. (Sidenote:  It actually took two hours. Argh.)

And it really has been a tough Winter so far - between sickness, dust allergies and lice (Don't get me started - I am now a full blown expert), some cranky vehicles, and now pink eye - we are ready for our silent night.
But as things often go, everything gets put into perspective when something tragic happens.  And it did.

Another student from LSA, Paul Riley, a boy I taught nine years ago, was in a one-car accident yesterday morning.  This is the second student I taught who has died so much earlier than they should have.  And while I mourn the loss of these young souls - who I'm really mourning for right now is Paul's mother, Perrilyn.  You see, Perrilyn is one of my favorite people at LSA. Not only was she a great parent to work with when I was teacher, we then switched roles and she became both Lydia and Lanie's helper teacher in preschool and Kindergarten.  She is a delight to me.  She loved telling stories about her boys - Paul and Mitchell.

I ache for her right now.  And I know so many others do as well.  Whenever I pause my constant activity, my mind goes straight to her and what she's doing right now.  Is she curled up in the fetal position on her bed, like I would be?  Is she playing out over and over again what put Paul in the car that morning, what caused him to veer off the road - was it a stray dog, a text?  Did he fall asleep?
And then my mind swishes and I wonder if Perrilyn and her husband, Sam had Christmas plans? Did they have gifts wrapped?  Did their other son Mitchell hope for some brotherly time together over the break? Did they talk about Paul and his strengths and wonder what he would do in the new year? In his future?

I know they have an army of loved ones and church friends surrounding them and I'm so glad.  I have not a doubt that God is hand-picking his perfect servants right now who will become their comforters, who will walk in and help this amazing family find solid ground in the months to come, who will say what they need to hear. Who will hold them and guide them to the love of Christ and remind me that there is nothing He can't handle.
For now though, in this infant state of shock, despair and what I can only imagine is hell on earth, I pray:

Lord, protect this family and cover them with your peace.
Amen.