That is all I handed to him.
Weston wrapped this present to me all by himself. He only used about 11 pieces of tape.
That is all I handed to him.
Weston wrapped this present to me all by himself. He only used about 11 pieces of tape.
It rained on us this year. The hot chocolate at Village Inn seemed a little better this year because of it.
Growing up I shared a room with my older sister, Amy, for as long as I can remember. Often at night, neither one of us wanted to get out of bed to turn off the light. We would each try to convince the other sister that it was definitely her turn to turn off the lights. Usually, one of us would end up saying, “I WISH I had a clapper” (the gadget that would automatically turn off the lights at the clap of your hands). We would laugh and one of us would give in and turn off the light.
One year at Christmas time, Amy thought it would be funny to actually give me a clapper for Christmas. So at the family Christmas party she told my cousin and a few of my siblings that a clapper is what I would be opening that night at the gift exchange. They giggled with each other and I was irritated because I was not in on the joke. Then Grandma came in the room and clapped her hands to get our attention and laughter erupted from their corner. I got angrier. I was feeling selfish and feeling sorry for myself. When I finally opened my gift, I threw it aside and said that I didn’t want it. I did not like myself in that moment, but I felt like I had gone too far to take back the angry words. I would not let myself step back and laugh in spite of myself. I let selfishness and pride govern my behavior. I learned a lesson that year.
In contrast, some twenty years later I was doing some Christmas shopping at the mall and noticed that a jewelry store was going out of business. Everything was marked 75% off. I excitedly went in the store, thinking that I might find a diamond band for myself. I had been wanting a ring for my right hand for a while and thought this might be an opportunity to get something I really wanted for Christmas. I quickly found a pretty band that had about 20 or 30 sparkly little diamonds set in white gold. It was perfect and it was a great price. I bought it and hurried out of the store before I could change my mind.
It wasn’t until I was on my way home that I thought about my sister-in-law, my younger brother’s wife, who had lost her wedding ring and had not been wearing a ring for some time. I knew exactly where that sparkly band belonged and it was not on my finger.
My brother and his family came to Christmas dinner that year. Just before he left, he pulled me aside and said, ”You know, my favorite part of Christmas every year is when all the big gifts are opened and we are left with family gifts that are nestled in under the tree. I love to see how excited my children are when something is opened that they picked out. I love to watch brothers and sisters giving gifts to each other.” Then with emotion in his voice, he confided, ”This year, there was another little box tucked in deep behind the tree—a little box with a diamond band in it—another gift from a sister to a brother. I just wanted to say thanks.”
I learned a different lesson that year. I learned that acting with selflessness and love is the best way to celebrate Christmas.
I woke up this morning, looked at the clock and realized that school was just about to start. I coughed half the night away so my internal wake-up alarm was a bit off. I scrambled out of bed and hurried to get the kids up and ready. We were amazingly pretty fast.
Just before the grand exodus, I helped Weston with his tennis shoes. I started to cough again as I finished with the velcro straps.
After my coughing subsided, Weston wrapped his little arms around my neck and nuzzled his precious nose on my cheek. He stammered,"I hope you...I hope you..."
It took a moment before he realized what he wanted to say,"I hope Jesus Christ will help heal the sick away."
Honey-Pie.
This is the same boy that hollers, "You are MEAN!", almost daily.
This is the same boy that often throws two-year-old tantrums, even though he is five.
This is the same boy that can't help that he has a passionate heart.
As a child I believed that mook was the real name for--(there is not a gracious way to put it)--poop.
Any variation on the word worked as well. Imagine the incredulous giggles when my sister and I found the Mookie Wilson baseball card in my brother's stacks. Who in the world would name their kid "Mookie"?
I was in the second grade before I realized that mook was not a recognizable term to most of the world.
I was in the school bathroom with my best friend and for some reason the subject came up. I repeated the word mook several times before I realized that she did not know what I was talking about.
I finally said, "Never mind." Too embarrassed to explain that the first 7 years of my life I believed in a made up word.
Twenty eight years later, I still can't shake the word. I was in the Costco parking lot, digging through my purse--come on camera, where are you?-- I had to get this picture before someone ran me over. Of course, I giggled all the way home. Who in the world would love Mook and put it on their license plate?
Some things just stick.
Something involving a swinging jump rope (think helicopter) and Keaton's mouth being in the wrong spot at the wrong time...
Seriously, I think the school nurse has us on speed dial.
Today, I could have busied my little ol' hands folding this--
But instead, I chose to go to lunch with my hubby. We ate delicious things together.
And we ate delicious things with these cool people.
Then, off to Hobby Lobby to buy more good wrapping paper (half off, thick paper, and a ton on the roll!)
Next, of course, there was the all important errand of finding Christmas treats to fill my jars.
Guess what was still waiting for me when I got home?
At least I know I didn't miss out on anything while I was gone.
Weston came down to breakfast this morning with one hand shoved in his pocket. He got up on to the barstool, still, with one hand shoved in his pocket.
I asked him what was in his pocket and he answered, "Nothing."
I asked if he was sure about that because I really thought there was something in his pocket.
After a few seconds to think it over, he decided to come clean. He pulled out a handful of coins, spilling them on the floor.
I asked, "Did you want to take that money to school?"
He said, "Yes, because my friend Christopher broke his toy and I want to buy him a new one."
Oh! Sweetest boy ever!
I helped him put the money in a bag to give to Christopher.
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Then he asked me, "Can you give me ten?"
His generosity was still sugaring up my heart, so I started to pull some coins out of my wallet to add to the toy fund. Weston stopped me, "No, I already have ten cents...I want a straight one, you know, ten dollars."
LOVE my boy!