Category Archives: Holidays

February is the Longest Month

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“February is a suitable month for dying.  Everything around is dead, the trees black and frozen so that the appearance of green shoots two months hence seems preposterous, the ground hard and cold, the snow dirty, the winter hateful, hanging on too long.”
–  Anna Quindlen, One True Thing

med234056Let me be clear. I am not a fan of the month of February. Yes, I am aware that there are a lot of fantastic holidays in February…admirable tributes like Black History Month, President’s Day, and (occasionally) Ash Wednesday.  Obviously, there are good times to be had…Ground Hog’s Day, Super Bowl Sunday, and Mardi Gras.  Then there are wacky observances like Wave All Your Fingers at Your Neighbor Day (7th), Don’t Cry Over Spilled Milk Day (11th) and Do a Grouch a Favor day (16th).  The month of February even offers special days like Random Acts of Kindness Day (17th) and Love Your Pet Day (20th), not to mention the big holiday of the month–Valentine’s Day.  We’ve packed a lot into this little month and yet…for me, February remains the longest month of the year.

I think a lot of it has to do with the weather.  It is too cold.  Now there’s cold and then there’s too cold.  February brings with it the kind of temperatures that people refer to as “too cold to snow.”  It’s absolutely bitter with winds that will cut through you like a knife.  It’s not just a Kansas thing either.  When I lived on the West Coast I still loathed the month of February.  Don’t let the California stereotype fool you…there’s very little sun to be had in February.  Rain, rain and more rain.  Gloom, dark clouds, and extra gloom.  (Can you tell that I don’t like rain either?)

Yes, February seems extra long because of the weather but there’s also another factor.  I’m not sure exactly how to describe this one, but I’ll just call it “The Letdown.”  Here’s where we’ve passed all the fun holidays and those New Year’s resolutions start to fall apart.  You know what I mean…the diet failed, the get organized frenzy has died down, and we are weeks away from Spring Break or any sort of exciting getaway.  “The Letdown” reminds us that we have nowhere to run.

Speaking of nowhere to run…February is also the time of year where everybody is sick with something.  I actually start to fear my husband and my kids.  My kids especially.  Every time I see their cute little faces I think about all the germs they’ve picked up at school.  Yuck!  They’re probably sick of me telling them to wash their hands every time we come home from school, church, shopping, etc.  As a certified germaphobe, I am on pins and needles all month.  My hands are so dry they’re practically untouchable.  Make the school lunches–wash my hands–pour some juice–wash my hands–touch a doorknob–wash my hands.  You get the picture.  Once (obviously a long time ago) a nurse told me that I had the softest hands she had ever touched, but not anymore, lady!  I’m practically bankrolling Aveeno right now and I’m pretty sure holding my hand on Valentine’s Day isn’t what it used to be!

Good, that brings me to Valentine’s Day.  It might mean something if they didn’t put the Valentine candy out on December 26th (or sooner!)  The holiday has become almost as overwhelming as Christmas.  The pressure is on to find the perfect gift coupled with the added pressure of trying to find the right card.  You don’t want to say too much or the wrong thing.  Here’s where I feel really bad for people who are still dating.  Talk about complicated.  I should feel sorry for my husband, too.  I’m not easy to shop for under any circumstances and I’m certainly no picnic at Valentine’s Day.  Not into flowers or candy…mostly I just want a nap.

This has been fun…all my ranting about February.  As I started writing this blog I came across several others who dislike February just as much as I do.  I actually found that encouraging.  I also came upon this little piece of trivia.  February is named for an ancient purification festival…I don’t know all the details but I imagine everyone was so busy hibernating and avoiding the cold weather that they couldn’t help but purify themselves.  Picture this, people of an ancient city where the temperatures are so cold that they stay in…not just for a day, but for several.  Sounds like fasting to me.  They survive only by drinking snowmelt (doesn’t get much purer than that.)  Their isolated lifestyle means less exposure to germs, thus no risk of colds or flu.  Consequently, there wouldn’t be a need for excessive hand washing.  And finally, I’m pretty sure the pressures of Valentine’s Day just didn’t exist back then.  Maybe these ancients were on to something!

So it’s day one of this never-ending month and I may have just solved my own dilemma.  I will no longer be a victim of the “February funk.”  It’s all about hibernation…so excuse me while I get my favorite blanket and try to consume a much coffee as I possibly can without leaving the house.  I mean, I’ve only got 28 days 🙂

It’s Raining Pine Needles in My Living Room

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tree 005We should have listened to my seven-year old daughter while we were at the Christmas tree lot.  She lobbied for a Frasier, but we went with the Balsam–that was our first mistake.  Its intoxicating pine fresh scent had us fooled (not to mention it’s slightly cheaper price tag.)  We took the Balsam and left “Stacy” (my daughter had already named the Frasier) to another couple who had been obviously eyeing it like a hawk that afternoon.  About a week after we decorated the tree my son started to say, “Mom, it’s not good when you can see through your Christmas tree.”  It was our second clue.  When your dog shakes off pine needles like she just stepped out of a bath…that’s called strike three.

You know it’s time to get rid of the Christmas tree when the ornaments start taking themselves down!

So it’s the second week of January.  It had to come down sometime.  I mean, my little girl’s birthday is just a few days away and we can’t have birthday photos with a tumbleweed Christmas tree in the background.  So I bit the bullet and took the tree down—but not before I could make an event out of it.  Christmas Blend Starbucks coffee, peppermint candy canes, and my favorite Christmas DVDs playing…I started taking off the ornaments that hadn’t already surrendered to gravity.  It was a sad day.

Sad because not only was I taking down all the festive Christmas decorations, but sad because this meant another year had slipped through our fingers.  Sad because the kids’ break from school had run its course. Sad because all the holiday cheer has been replaced with dieting resolutions and “organize your life in 2013” mumbo jumbo.  And a whole lotta sad because I had a Christmas tree mess unlike any other!

You always have battle scars when you opt for a real Christmas tree.  Little scratches and scrapes during decorating…and don’t forget the sap, uugggh!  Plus, the occasional water spill and of course–pine needles.  However, this year’s Christmas tree outdid itself in the pine needle department.  They started falling off about a week in.  Then we noticed small piles of needles starting to form on the tree skirt.  Soon after–when the living room was quiet–you could hear the pine needles fall through the tree.  It quickly escalated to sagging garland, the strand of lights slowly inching toward the floor, and the occasional ornament falling in the night.  Before long we began to worry whenever someone opened the front door and a breeze swept in.  I yelled at the kids about running past the tree too fast and setting off a needle avalanche.  We tried to keep up with the needles through the aid of our Dyson vacuum cleaner, but after a while I started to worry that we were actually damaging the Dyson.  And forget about it when the UPS guy came the door–I promise that tree almost came tumbling down when the dog raced to the window to let out her warning barks. On Christmas morning there wasn’t an ounce of snow outside, but there was a nice prickly layer of pine needles dusting every gift.  And then we left town.

When we returned we couldn’t turn the lights on the tree anymore…fire hazard.  My niece caught wind of it on New Year’s Eve via a Skype video call.  She wondered what HAPPENED to our tree!  Her comment spoke volumes.  We all knew it needed to come down.  I actually sort of wanted it to come down (and I NEVER want to put the tree away…I secretly want it to be Christmas all year!)  Still, it was painful to look at and I would have probably paid someone to take it down for me at that point if I thought we had any takers.

One week later we were all sort of used to the newly dubbed “tumbleweed tree.”  Its falling pine needles had become just a regular household sound like the squeak in the kitchen floor.  Whenever I walked into the living room I would just waltz over to the tree, inspect underneath, gather the fallen ornaments, dust off the pine needles and put them on the table.  A small pile of ornaments had started to emerge when I decided that I was all out of excuses.  There were other things that needed to get done, but the tree won out today.  It’s ugly, shabby appearance had already forced me to tell the children that their friends couldn’t come over and play until I had taken it down (and I said that four days ago.)

It took hours and I’m still not technically done putting all the Christmas decorations away, but removing the tree was a big start.  Of course, a zillion needles fell out in the process, it took a broom, a dust pan and about 30 minutes with the Dyson to get things looking good (although I still wouldn’t recommend walking where the tree used to be in your bare feet!)

tree 004I know we’ll do it all again next year and the year after that…although I’ve been eyeing artificial trees in the clearance section at Wal-Mart (wink, wink).  But for now the living room has resumed its regular homey look, the children can have their friends over again, and the branch that used to be our tree has a nice new home up against the fence in our backyard.  And who knows how long it will stay there….

The perfect Christmas tree?  All Christmas trees are perfect!  ~Charles N. Barnard

“B” Christmas…or My Very Own Charlie Brown Christmas Special (starring ME!)

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Bells will be ringing—the glad, glad news…oh what a Christmas to have the blues….

ASomething has been askew this Christmas.  I was sort of afraid to admit it until now since I proclaim this to be my favorite time of year.  It’s not that I’m without a loved one, it’s not that I have an insurmountable list of problems, worries or fears.  I’ve been trying to tell myself that it’s just the weather, but it sort of snowed the other day and that didn’t squelch the icky feeling.

I think if I’m really honest, I’ve missed Christmas–not in the “longing for” sense of the word, but more the “missed out” connotation of the word.  It’s a horrible feeling since Christmas is still two days away.  The dreadful feeling gave itself a name today–“B” Christmas, as in plan B.  (Remember that feeling in high school when you felt compelled to choose a B school, just in case you didn’t get into your college of choice or the time when you had to settle for your second favorite prom dress because your “friend” already snagged the one you were eyeballing!)  You know it’s not a bad thing…but it doesn’t feel all that great either.

I’ve been trying to hash out what went wrong…you know, analyze the variables and figure out what was different this year than in Christmas’ past.  Nerdy, but that’s how I work.  So, here’s what I’ve come up with:  the season actually began too early with Christmas cookies in October, followed by an unusually busy baking season, Halloween (the unofficial start to Christmas) came and went too quickly (and I didn’t take the kids trick-or-treating nor did we visit any pumpkin patches), outside commitments were plentiful, time-consuming and pressing (basketball practices, extra long soccer season, music concerts and church obligations), Thanksgiving was very structured and passed in a blink (I was super intentional this year about being grateful and in the moment…maybe too focused?), I planned too many homemade/handmade gift projects and of course, the mother of all sins…I stayed up way too late trying to make it all PERFECT!  I am guilty of trying to cram 48 hours into 24 hour days…but who isn’t?

In the end I paid for all of it.  I was tired, irritable, a time tyrant.  I spent all my waking hours in the kitchen and/or at the computer.  I planned each day out for maximum productivity and left out any creative and spontaneous time for fun.  Look, I’m not completely crazy…I had moments of being an on-the-ball mother, wife, church volunteer, and baker.  There were occasional moments to pause, but not enough moments to reflect or savor.  There were too many times I thought I wouldn’t get it all done, panic-stricken times when I was certain it wouldn’t come together, and way too many instances where I wondered why I had taken on so much followed by numerous vows to NEVER do any of this again!  I hate that the most.  The cold, hard fact is that I created this problem for myself.  If I had the Christmas blues I was the one standing there with sapphire color paint under my nails, smeared across my cheek and splotched all over my clothes.

In this “smurf-like” state I didn’t have many options–so I did what people with the blues generally do, I cried.  And wouldn’t you know it, I finally felt better.  It reminded me so much of the Charlie Brown Christmas special.  It’s filled with good intentions, projects and purpose.  Linus even recites scripture to remind us of the true meaning of Christmas.  Charlie Brown wants to be the director, the leader that the Peanuts gang is looking for.  He wants to be the guy who’s going to make this Christmas special.  He doesn’t just take on this project for the benefit of those in the Christmas program, he takes it on to better himself…because he believes this venture will raise his Christmas spirit.  Yet, despite his best efforts we all remember the part where Charlie Brown walks out–dejected, sad, depressed and dispirited after he is ridiculed for choosing a tiny, sad excuse for a tree.

But here’s the best part:  It seems like out of nowhere everyone seems to get it.  The Peanuts gang suddenly see the tree in a new light!  They find that part of themselves that connects with the heart of Christmas.  It happens in a blink and without reason and in that cheesy-manner that only comes from 1960’s Christmas specials, but it happens.  I don’t know if the show’s creators would ever say it, but I think that’s the moment when God stepped in.  And in my very own Charlie Brown Christmas special (starring ME!) after those sad, blues-filled tears fell, God stepped in for me as well.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a 1960’s Christmas special by any stretch of the imagination.  It didn’t happen in an instant, but it did happen.  Slowly the heart of Christmas filled my spirit and the holy day that I love so much, the season I call my favorite…started to come back to me.

As I finish up this blog it’s now the day after Christmas.  My eyes tear up at the thought of this joyous Christmas 2012 that I almost missed out on.  I thank God for the opportunity to worship and celebrate His Son’s birth on Christmas Eve with an unburdened heart.  I rejoice in spending Christmas day with my husband and children and without any agenda…in fact, we all stayed in our pajamas ALL DAY.  I am overjoyed to say that I consider this Christmas a blessing.  And while my house is a disaster, the pine needles are piling up under the tree like sand, and I’m staring down at least several days worth of Christmas decor to put away, I finally feel content.  I’m still listening to Christmas music.  My husband asked me how long I planned to keep playing it and I didn’t have an answer–I still have a lot of Christmas to make up for.

Gifts of time and love are surely the basic ingredients of a truly merry Christmas.” ― Peg Bracken

The Other Birthday Brother

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It’s my other brother’s birthday and I’m all smiles.  I asked my sister to find some photos of our brother for his birthday blog and this one stole my heart.  Look at that toothless grin, HUGE ball cap (did you borrow that from Dad?) accompanied by a tiny body, lefty baseball stance, and sporting a look of sheer determination!    And you were way ahead of your time with that stylish flat bill…LOL!  Under that hat I imagine that you’re sporting the same haircut you run around with today and that’s one of the things I love about you…you always know what works for you!  If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.

I wish I could remember you when you were little, but I was little too and so we’ll have to go with what I’ve been told…brace yourself.  According to unnamed sources (our Mom), I loved to give you a bottle.  Somewhere I must have learned that happy babies are well-fed babies and so you were constantly having milk shoved in your direction.  As the story goes, it didn’t really matter if you needed or wanted your bottle, whether you were crying or not, I seemed to know what was best for you and as your older sister I decided that was milk.  So, I was a dairy pusher in your early days but don’t worry, you had your revenge later in life when you decided to dump a bowl of melted ice cream on my head immediately after my bath.  Yuck, and it was chocolate almond.

I remember when your tiny hand was all burned from hot coffee and the photo that exists somewhere of you on a picnic table sporting a sweater and a diaper with your paw all bandaged up.  You were small and cute and yes, other fun photos of you exist with your red-tinged hair!  Most of my childhood memories involve you and our youngest brother together.  You were each other’s best friend and worst enemy.  When you added in the neighborhood crew…well, the adventures never stopped.  There were many years of toy trucks, baseball, football, BMX bikes, basketball, track, lawn mowing, weightlifting, and even one season of soccer.  There were so many good times and it seems like only yesterday when we would all stay up late, watching Nick at Nite and playing monopoly for hours in the basement of our parent’s house.

Today, I tell my kids stories about you and our other siblings, but I’m not sure if I’ve ever shared two of my all-time favorite stories about you and I.  Interestingly, they both involve a ghetto blaster (now if that doesn’t send you way back…I don’t know what will!)  First, I remember the time when we tried to convince our little brother that he snored when he slept.  So, after he drifted off to sleep we tried to record him snoring.  But he slept silently, peacefully, and soundly.  No snoring…and I’m not sure if he really ever snored at all.  But we had a mission and the mission was to prove that he snored.  In my bedroom we secretly created a recorded a tape of our little brother sleeping–a FAKE obviously.  It started with a few grunts, groans, some snoring sounds then morphed into a symphony of noises that could only come from a barnyard.  Bogus as it was, we seemed satisfied and waited until morning to play the tape and reveal that yes, indeed our little brother was a big time snorer (not!)  I’ll never forget how much we laughed and how hard our little brother cried.  He told Mom, we were busted, forced to admit that we made it all up, and probably punished (but I tend to block those memories out!)  Ahh…good times.

My other fave story also involves the same ghetto blaster (remember how Dad carved our names into it?)  We were huge fans of the Karate Kid (I and II) and watched those movies over and over.  We were also two broke little kids who didn’t have money to purchase the movie soundtrack…yet we LOVED the Peter Cetera song The Glory of Love.  Nevermind that we were too young to understand the song, that part was irrelevant.  So determined we were to get a our own copy of this beloved piece of music, we decided to request it on the radio.  So, phonebook in hand my brother called the radio station and made the request.  As soon as he hung up, I called the radio station to make the same request.  This pattern repeated for at least an hour as we sat with our hot little hands on the record button waiting…and waiting….and waiting.  I’m sure the DJ was at his breaking point when the song FINALLY played.  It’s amazing what determination, concentration, hard work, dedication, and the sheer act of annoying the heck out of some poor guy who works at the radio station can do for two pesky kids on a Friday night!  Just like the Karate Kid…we were victorious!

Today is my brother’s birthday and I’m proud of the man he has become.  The qualities that I liked about him as a kid are the same qualities that I love about him today.  He is fun, hardworking, dependable, strong, reliable, honest and incredibly loyal.  He is the one who will listen, come up with a plan, and help you out of whatever kind of nonsense you’ve managed to get yourself into.  He’s a wonderful son, brother, father, uncle, son-in-law, brother-in-law, cousin and FRIEND.  Wishing you the happiest birthday ever.  YOU ARE LOVED!  BTW, I requested this song for you….

A true friend is always loyal, and a brother is born to help in time of need. Proverbs 17:17 NIV

You’ve Heard of Christmas in July, Right?

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“You’re cheating!”  my husband said as he turned the corner.  “So, what,” I half-heartedly mumbled as I brushed past him in the hallway.  The window on my computer screen was open and there it was…all exposed for the world to see (and hear.)  I WAS BUSTED.

There was no denying it and if you know me, I wouldn’t bother with trying to make excuses.  It felt good, so I threw commonsense out the window and continued to listen to Christmas music a mere two days after the Fourth of July. 

It was not my intention to get into a full Christmas groove.  In fact, I was listening to Justin Bieber’s “Boyfriend” for the 80th time with my seven-year old daughter when I caught a glimpse of Michael Buble’s Christmas CD icon out of the corner of my eye.  The snowy scene, the gift-bearing crooner, the joyful feeling that conjures up the holidays.  So before Bieber could promise his girlfriend more fondue I double clicked and the familiar melody began…it’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas….  I had only intended to hear the first song, a Christmas-junkie’s first mistake. 

I truly love Christmas.  And I’m going to say it (though many of you will not believe me) I truly love Christmas and it has NOTHING to do with the presents.  Trying to pinpoint what I love most about the Christmas holiday is difficult.  I love the cooler weather (correction, “colder” temps…I live in the Midwest), the decorations, the busyness (although I regularly complain about that part), the shopping, the planning, the cookie baking and especially the music.  It’s the music that really sets the tone, puts that special something in the atmosphere and makes many of the awful parts of the holiday season (and we know there are some truly awful parts) much more festive!  Of course, these are just the secular part of the holiday…when I start thinking about the birth of our Savior, well it just makes the season so much more meaningful and special…but that’s another blog.

So back to my kitchen and Christmas music in July….  Somewhere in the middle of song two (Santa Claus is Coming to Town) I started daydreaming about putting up the Santa collection and wondering  if I should continue to make it the focal point of the living room.  Then, early into song three (Jingle Bells) I began thinking about my son’s winter coat and how he’s growing like a weed and whether or not we need to plan to buy him a new one.  Next, White Christmas turned my thoughts to looking at the calendar and finding out what day of the week Christmas was on this year.  By the time I hit the chorus of All I Want for Christmas is You I started thinking that I should start my shopping early this year, like maybe in August or September…no wait, we have school shopping to do… my thoughts started racing.  Several songs later I ended up at Blue Christmas and began to realize that I wasn’t really enjoying the music any more, instead I had actually started a mental list of all the things that I had to get done before Christmas.  My mind was a blur of plans and preparations…a “to do” list was starting to form.  I was already wondering how we were going to balance church programs and school holiday events… and basketball practice?  YIKES!  Believe it or not, but Christmas panic was actually attacking me in JULY.  Breathe, breathe, breathe…. 

Michael Buble’s personal Christmas greeting belted out from the computer speakers.  My Christmas daze was over.  Although I played the whole CD, I’m fairly certain that I only heard half the songs.  And it dawned on me…there is a defined Christmas season and there’s no way it can begin as early as July!  I don’t think I could handle it if it did.  Suddenly, the warm July temps seemed a lot more appropriate, a schedule jam-packed with little league baseball sounded just right, and a couple more months of wearing flip-flops and sandals seemed to fit me to a tee.  No sense in rushing a good thing.  Christmas could wait. 

I shut down the computer for the evening with only the faintest brainworm of I’ll Be Home for Christmas running through my head.  I still have to get through all the summer birthdays, the first day of school, Labor Day, and finally Halloween…the official start of the holiday season, right?

I’ll be home for Christmas
You can count on me
Please have snow and mistletoe
And presents on the tree

The Birthday Sister

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My Mom used to dress my sister and I up in the same outfits.  This looks cute on twins, but when you’re four years apart one of you is bound to look WRONG!  Case in point, a twelve-year-old in footie-pajamas and an infant wearing a belt.  Okay, it wasn’t quite that ridiculous, but it was pretty close. 

Today is my little sister’s birthday.  Whenever I think about her a few things (other than our wacky forced wardrobes) come to mind.  First, I think about how blessed we are that we did not grow up fighting.  I’m sure that we had our squabbles and  a few tiffs come to mind, but nothing major.  The lack of fighting left room for laughter and lots of good times.  I remember sharing a bedroom and staying up talking and telling stories.  One Christmas season we decided to change our pre-bedtime ritual into a singing contest.  We would each pick a favorite Christmas song and start singing it at the same time.  Whoever could get the other sister to start singing their song first was the winner.  It was a lot of fun and I have to admit that as the older sister I had the advantage.  You see, at the time my little sister only knew two songs all the way through–Jingle Bells and Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer.  She always sang one and if I sang the other and sang loud enough she would always end up joining in.  Before you start thinking I’m the bad guy, I must confess that it took me several nights of singing “complicated” songs like the Twelve Days of Christmas before I finally realized I could save myself a lot of breath and time by simply singing one of her faves.

We did all the fun things sisters do, like playing dolls, playing house, playing Barbies (which is like dolls, but different), playing store, playing school and even playing adoption agency!  I know what you’re thinking, “WHO plays adoption agency?”  But you should keep in mind that it was at the height of the Cabbage Patch Kid rage thus adoption agency makes perfect sense.  Speaking of Cabbage Patch Kids…boy did we LOVE those dolls!  I remember when we got them for Christmas.  My Mom could only snag boy Cabbage Patch Dolls (the height of the rage remember) so my sister ended up with Ramsey and I had Peyton.  Hers came in a cute little non-gender outfit with short curly hair and, after attaching a hairbow, she immediately reassigned Ramsey’s gender and he became a she.  I on the other hand, felt obligated to keep Peyton a boy–after all he came in a sporty little blue and white sweatpant suit and was bald.  Nonetheless, we loved those dolls and took them everywhere.  In the winter we bundled them up in blankets and carried them around like real babies, in warmer weather they could be found tagging along to Grandma’s, the grocery store, etc… like real babies.

If you asked my Mom to share some of her favorite memories, I wonder if she would remember the time we were playing “K-Mart.”  Yes, we weren’t just playing store on that particular afternoon, we were playing “K-Mart.”  And when you play K-mart you must have layaway and of course, blue light specials.  We arranged the living room, and calculator in hand, we took turns being the shopper and the cashier.  We tape recorded the specials (trying to make our voices sound like the coolio K-Mart managers) and played them back all afternoon.  Oh, those were the days.  Purses full of fake money and the ability to “purchase” things we already owned.  We sure knew how to have fun!

In many ways my sister and I are very different.  She has loads of dark, curly hair and I have loads of lighter, straight-ish hair (that’s code for boring and constantly permed!)  For a little sister she ended up taller than me (a family curse where the eldest daughter ends up the smallest in the bunch.)  She has always had perfect teeth and long, slender fingers which I always envied.  She’ll pay money to see a scary movie and I have to turn the channel when a horror pic trailer makes its way onto a TV screen.  She truly LOVES children whereas I would say that I like most kids.  She is the favorite aunt, hip to all the new fashion trends, music and kid-slang and I’m the aunt who you’re not sure if you want to show up at your graduation (can you say group t-shirts and caricature signs!)

We’re also similar in my ways.  We both love comedies, Mexican food, the Donna Reed Show and to shop.  It’s funny how we’ll like the same scent of perfume without consulting one another.  We both try to “lay low” at family events to avoid getting picked on by our brothers.  We also know exactly when to roll our eyes and shoot a “here we go again” glance at larger, extended family functions.  And we both love to laugh.  As little kids we would  get the giggles and hardly be able to contain ourselves (even on the rare occasions when we were in church.)  As teens we laughed through the dishes and the Uno games that determined who was going to have to sweep or wash!  We laughed when our Mom called us Frick and Frack (I’m Frick), Ding and Dong (I’m Ding) or Mutt and Jeff (I’m Jeff.)  We could hardly contain ourselves the one afternoon when we decided to cover every photo in the house with post-it notes (adorned with a smiley face), all the while waiting to see how long it would take our Mom to notice when she got home from work!  (Ha ha, Mom, it took you a while….) 

So many good times.  I love my sister for all of these fun memories and so much more, but recently I’ve come to love her in a new way.  In the last few years I have seen a strength in my sister that makes my heart burst.  While she has always been a key figure in the lives our nieces and nephew, I saw her finally put herself first and  fight through a difficult personal situation…and come out the winner.  I know that she still has her good and bad days, and most people wouldn’t believe all that she’s had to deal with and the challenges that she’s been through.  Still, I’ve seen her take steps to become more independent, I’ve seen her change her course, I’ve seen her make realizations and discoveries that have deeply impacted her life.  I’ve seen her come from a place of brokenness and rise up to a place of responsibility and change for the better.  I’m so proud of her and all that she has accomplished so far.  I pray for her daily and I know that God has a wonderful future for her, one with promise and hope.  She is special and this birthday marks a tremendous turning point for her. 

So my darling, sister, here’s to a year unlike any other.  One with less worries and stress.  One with more happiness and success.  And one with courage and loads of side-splitting laughter and joy!  Happy birthday, sis…may God bless you today and everyday.  YOU ARE LOVED!

A sister is a forever friend.  Author Unknown

New Year, New YOU! (new me?)

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So, here it goes (again!)  That time of year when we all vow to make huge changes, drop our bad habits, and ultimately become more responsible, capable and productive members of society.  Some of us will start new diets, add an exercise regimen, get our finances in order, and (insert YOUR personal New Year’s resolution here.)  Others will quit smoking, stop drinking, go to bed or wake up earlier, etc….  Well, let me be the first one to tell you that I don’t make New Year’s resolutions.  Why?  Because I don’t like to.  Don’t get me wrong–I think self-improvement is awesome (and necessary!)  I really do want to become a better person, but I just don’t particularly like going along with the pack.  (In fact, I wear holiday socks all year long, listen to yuletide tunes November through January and I’m toying with the idea of leaving my tree up and decorating  it for Valentine’s Day.) 

Despite all of this, I am human and the whole New Year’s resolution thing has me thinking.  Today alone, I’ve read a handful of articles about New Year’s resolutions, heard a guy on the radio go on and on about the top New Year’s resolutions people make (and break),  and clicked past even more New Year’s related stuff on the web.  It’s on Facebook, people are texting and talking about it…and so here I am at my desk and I just realized that I DID it!  I inadvertently made a resolution.  Drum roll please,…I decided to write a blog!  Sure, I’ve been planning to do this for the past year and I just never got around to it.  But look what coincidentally happened just before the clock struck 12!  I’m doing something new for the New Year.  I have plans for 2012?  All my talk about ridiculous resolutions and here I am vowing to do something I never thought I would do, but always wanted to do.  Something that I have a fair chance of failing and an even greater chance of quitting.  I’ve joined the ranks of the masses and become one of them–a RESOLUTIONIST! 

Just who do I think I am anyway?  What could a thirty-something, stay-at-home mom/pastor’s wife, and C.O.G. (that’s Child of God in case you didn’t know) possibly have to blog about?  You might just be surprised!  So, Amy– my dear, I’ve done it…I’m writing a blog.  Amanda, my love, you know that book is just around the corner!  Steve, my darling partner, here we go.  And kiddos, Mommy will try very hard to be cool….

Well, here goes nothing, or maybe here goes something….