It has become a Circus Fam tradition to eat Christmas Eve dinner at Boston Market.  We go to the 4:30 children’s service, then have dinner at Boston Market and then return for the 6:30 candlelight service at church.  There really isn’t time to eat dinner together and enjoy both services unless we eat out.  The horrendous service we received at Boston Market this year did cause all of us to question whether it may be the last year we partake of this tradition…

I LOVE the candle light service…this year my favorite parts were holding my nephew Eli on my lap while singing Silent Night during the candle lighting and the look of TOTAL glee on my 4 year old’s face as she held her candle ALL BY HERSELF.  (She kept grinning ear to ear and whenever I looked over at her she’d say, “Papa isn’t holding it… I am holding it ALL ALONE!”

Everyone enjoys putting up a figure on our nativity advent calendar.

Putting out cookies for Santa… this concept was lost on one of us, who thought the cookies CLEARLY were put out for him.

After MUCH waiting, it was FINALLY time to leave Mommy and Daddy’s room and see the tree! 

Since we are so fortunate to have both sets of grandparents and one set of aunt/uncle share Christmas morning with us… there are quite a lot of presents under our tree on Christmas morning!

I love the gaggle of cousins and uncles and Daddies and grandparents and presents and wrapping paper that makes up the morning…

She wanted to give Daddy a bag to put his wallet, keys, and badge in when he gets home from work each day.  That way he’ll always know where to find them in the morning when he’s leaving for work.  Thanks to Miss Jen for helping her sew her this “man purse” for Daddy.  Daddy’s favorite part?  That she labeled the front and back of the bag for him. 

Our 4 year old has been SO good about staying off of the top bunk till she’s 5.  (Circus Family bunk bed policy) So, for Christmas Mommy and Daddy and big sister let her have one night on the top bunk.

Watching him open and play with this tool bench was like déjà vu… as we gave this same tool bench to his older brother 5 Christmases ago… (it’s been living in the attic for a few years… waiting for a little brother to come along and use it)

I found American Girl dolls for the girls on Craigs List in March and have been holding on to them with eager anticipation to give them to the girls.  (Yes, this is the same Molly doll our oldest “borrowed” on her lunch date with Daddy a few weeks ago and when the girls went to a birthday party at the AG doll store last Wednesday these were the same dolls they “borrowed” to sit with at the party). 

The day was topped off with Charlie Brown’s Christmas…

a piano recital by my 7 yr old and birthday cake for Jesus!

I love these traditions!

But most of all, I love sharing them with our extended family… so thankful to have Grandma and Papa, Nana and Pop, and Uncle Jim, Aunt Karen, Eli and Ben here to celebrate with us… many, many wonderful memories were made during our time together!

Love choosing and cutting down our tree…

Love decorating it and passing on the memories to my children of the precious ornaments hung on our tree…

Love the wonder of the lights…

Love watching them play with toys that only come out once a year…

Love seeing them act out the story of Christ’s birth as they play with their nativity sets

And this year I love listening to the sounds of Christmas carols fill the house as my son plays them on the piano

It really is, the most wonderful time of the year.

Growing up, part of me wished for a sister… one to share a room with, share clothes and secrets with…. maybe if I’d have had one, I would know better how to braid my girls hair…  I had a great brother, and I would never have traded him for a sister, yet part of me at times felt like I was missing out a little…

When I married Scott I instantly gained in my sister-in-law the sister I had always wanted.  And she is all that and more.  And to sweeten the deal even more, Karen and I share a birthday.  We joke that it’s perfect because it makes it so much easier for him to remember my birthday (that would work IF he could remember his sisters birthday).

I truly couldn’t love Karen more if she was my blood.  I’ve known Karen for more than half my life… in HS I was her secret sister in lacrosse.  While Scott and I were dating in college, she let me crash in her dorm room (often even sharing her top bunk) so I could come and visit Scott at Grove City.  We’ve run races together, shared a mouth guard (gross I know), she’s cut my hair, told me not to wear that jacket with that dress, she was my maid of honor in our wedding…

She became that shopping partner I needed and is great for the clothing consults… (even cross country).  I appreciate her humor and her realness.  I respect her faith and her strength.  She is an awesome Army wife.  She’s a great mom, so laid back and easy going.  And she is one, fantabulous aunt.  (I love listening to my girls play with their baby dolls b/c one is always the mom and the other is always the Aunt Karen).   I appreciate how important family is to Karen and all the effort she makes to be an active and real part of our family’s lives, despite the distance she has always lived from us.  It means more to me than she could ever know.  

Last week we visited Karen and Jim on our way to and from Fl and during quiet/nap time, the two of us got to escape for a little Starbucks date (One of my favorite things to do with Karen).  It was like a pre-birthday gift to ourselves.     I love that we share a birthday… kinda seals the whole sisterhood thing, ya know?   So, happy birthday Karen… my friend, my sister, and my birthday buddy!  I love you bunches!!!

Most people think that perfect beach weather is a bright sunny day, but we discovered unexpected joy in a trip to the Florida beach on an overcast evening following an afternoon rain storm.

Shuttle launch in the morning, nap in the afternoon, beach in the evening, and free Chick-Fil-A right before bed… it was a perfect day in Florida… totally worth the 32 hours of driving it took to get there and back.

~clicking on picture will make it bigger~

With Fathers Day approaching this weekend and the kids and I brainstorming ways to make it ultra special for the circus dad, I feel it also appropriate to spend some time reflecting on my own father.

Because, when it comes to dad’s, I have been richly blessed. 

While in the throws of parenthood, I think many a parents wonders, “Is it making a difference?  Do my kids even notice?” 

And the answer is a resounding “Yes!”

Now a mother myself as I look back on my childhood, I am so grateful, so deeply grateful for the relationship I have had with my dad. 

As I think of my dad, many thoughts come to mind… he’s hardworking, always a kidder, a follower of Christ, great with kids, a loving and attentive Grandpa, sports fan, great shopper…. but if I had to some it up in one word, I’d say my dad is dependable. 

Dad was always there when we needed him.   My brother and I went to a Christian high school that was about 30 min from our house.  I recall dad going out of his way to take us to school and drop us off.  He’d wait patiently in the parking lot for us, scheduling his work appts around our dismissal times.  He made it to our band competitions, and sports games, and school plays.  And now, as an adult, he’s still there for me.  He makes the trek to MD to visit me and my family multiple times a year.  He does his best to make it to the kids birthday parties and sports games.  He was there at the hospital to meet each of his grandchildren after they were born.  This sometimes meant driving late into the night after a full day of work only to drive that same long trek back home to go to work shortly after.  But, dad was there. 

I have one very vivid memory of my dad which truly means the world to me.  It was the end of my senior year of high school.  Math is subject I struggled with all through high school.  After being accepted to college, I had to go and take some kind of entrance test or something.  I don’t really recall the details of that, all I do recall is finding out that I was going to have to take a remedial math class my first semester of college.  It would be a non credit math class that I had to take and pass before I could even take the regular math class I needed to fulfill my requirements.   Looking back now, it really wasn’t a big deal.  It was one class, take it, pass, and move along.  But, then, as a 17 yr old girl, it was devastating… the end of the world… in fact.  “I’m dumb… I hate math… I’m never going to pass… this is awful.”  Truthfully, my pride was hurt.  And that in and of itself was the issue.    I went out that night with Scott and some friends… I recall coming home late and dad waiting up for me in the living room.  I remember walking in the door, and Dad coming over to me and just giving me a big hug.  He said, “Mom told me about your math.”  Instantly I was embarrassed again.   “Your going to be ok,”  He said, “I know it’s not easy for you, but it’ll all work out.”

And ya know.  He was right.  I took the class.  I was embarrassed that first week when I couldn’t find the building and had to ask a million and one people where it was b/c no one had heard of the building, b/c actually it was off campus at a Sylvan learning center, and thus I had to tell a million and one people that I was taking remedial math.  But I found the building, took the class, passed, took the required math classes after that, passed… and life went on.  In the scheme of life, it was a very little deal.  And yet 15 years later I still look back at that night… at dad waiting up just to give me a hug… at Dad letting me know he cared, he understood how I felt, and ya know what it was a big deal.   Because it illustrates yet again, that dad was there.  He cared.  He supported me. 

And that’s the kind of dad he is.  Dependable, supportive, understanding.   I’m so thankful, so very thankful for my dad.  Happy Fathers Day Dad!!

When my son was 3, I took him strawberry picking for the first time. It was a special Mommy/Son date prior to the birth of our third child. The next year, we returned, but this time it was a family affair.

2009 brought us back to the same farm, this time with friends.

And 2010 found me once again at the fields pregnant, with many small children in tow.

This year we found ourselves returning to the farm for a somewhat spontaneous trip.  I knew I wanted to go this spring.  (it has, after all, become a tradition).  But with rain forecasted and a busy week planned, I wasn’t sure when.  We woke to cloudy skies, but no rain and so I hurried the circus crew out the door before they even finished breakfast!  We were home with our pickings before 10 am!!!

What about you?  What are some of your family traditions?

This spring I have 3 kids in sports.  On 3 different teams.  This in addition to the girls both taking gymnastics twice a week  and Cub Scouts.

We are busy, busy, busy with games and practices most every night… some nights we’re even double booked.

Many people look at my schedule and call me crazy.    Why do you do this to yourself?

The answer is, honestly, two fold. 

1.  We love it. 

2.  Believe it or not, it actually makes my life easier

If I had to drag my kids kicking and screaming to practice, I wouldn’t do it.  It wouldn’t be worth it.  But they love it.   My third child wore cleats and shin guards last year to every one of her brother and sisters games and practices and all she did was sit on the sidelines.  She was so eager to be out there that she dressed like them and practiced on her own off the field.   

And truth be told, I love it too.  I am that crazy mom with her hands in the air screaming at the top of her lungs as they dribble down the field or race to first base.   I just love watching them play! 

I admit it is often a challenge to shuffle four kids out the door at dinner time each day.  Cleats? Water bottles?  Uniform?  Cup?  I am constantly running through the check list as we make our way to the taxi minivan.

On a normal night, my husband gets home from work around 6-6:30.  I don’t know what it is about the hours between 4-6, but some sort of odd transformation occurs in my kids during that time of day.  It’s as if they have used up all ability to play nicely together.  They turn needy and whiny and have very short leashes.  I don’t know what it is about their  Momma during that time of day, but she typically turns inpatient and needy and whiny during that time of day.

Being away from home during the “bewitching hours” makes our day run more smoothly.    Because we are gone during dinner, I am forced to prep dinner earlier in the day.  This saves me from trying to make dinner with a baby on my hip and world war III being fought in the living room.   

The kids are out of the house, some what separated, and even have different people to play with.  I have a chance to take a break and sit and chat with other adults.   We come home, dinner is ready or mostly ready, we eat and the day is almost over. 

Now, I am not going to lie… the occasional rainy day cancellation of practice is often met with a sigh of relief from me.  I don’t mind the occasional lazy afternoon at home.  But, in general, staying busy, oddly keeps us sane.    I think the fact that we home school and we are home together all day is a huge reason why this both works for us and perhaps is more welcomed to us.  If my kids were gone all day at school and I was having to cram dinner, practice, homework, and family time all into the 4 short hours between homecoming and bed, I would be a lot more bitter about our extra curricular activities.   

I’ve really enjoyed getting to know other parents in the community during our years of playing baseball and soccer here.   The kids have all made friends on their teams and now we are at the point where we’ve played long enough that they typically know someone on their team from previous years.   Those whose turn it isn’t for practice are learning valuable “playground skills.”    All this on top of all the valuable lessons they get by playing on a team and learning new skills… not to mention the exercise. 

Some call me crazy, but truth be told, it just works for us.

Some of you may remember my post last December (as in 2009) in which I shared one of Scott’s moments of sheer brilliance at the dinner table. 

Well, I feel the need to tell you that 13 months later and my kids are STILL eating their vegetables to spite their Daddy.  I am sure this says something of their character… for which we must spend some time rectifying, but meanwhile my mean spirited little children are eagerly gobbling up their vegetables. 

I had no idea it would last this long.  I thought for sure after a few weeks it would get old.    My son quickly caught on to the game, even quietly telling Daddy one day he knows it’s just a game he plays to get them to eat their vegetables… and still he’ll play along.  (much like Santa Claus)

The game is def best suited to my competitive second born.  I have seen her literally gagging as she tries to down her vegetables just so she can show daddy “ha, ha I cleaned my plate… your not going to eat my ears!”

There are some vegetables they prefer to others and I am not saying every day they eat their veggies without complaint.  But, over all this little game has been a huge hit at the circus.  My 3 year old will request veggies at lunch so we can e-mail Daddy and let him know we ruined our ears and when I made pizza last time, my 4 year old came in and asked “What vegetable we were having to go with it?”  

Sometimes it gets a bit old having the kids interrupting dinner multiple times to show Daddy their veggies in their mouths  and sometimes Daddy will forget and say, “Good job!” when they show him their cleaned plate… and the kids will laugh and say, “Dad, remember, your supposed to say bad job b/c you don’t want us to ruin our ears!”

  Just last night at dinner our friend said, “How long do you think this is going to last?”  I have no idea… but I do know that it worked… my 6 yr old now genuinely likes broccoli and they are all much more willing to try out new vegetables. 

A few moments from this weekend which I wish to savor…

1.  My son presenting his gift to his extended family.  (One nap time he came up excited to share that he had drawn a picture from each scene in Luke 2.  On Christmas he gave one picture to each person.  He then laid them all out on the floor and recited the story from memory.)

2.  Prepping the Christmas Lasagnas with my daughter… it marked a milestone, in which she was truly helpful in the kitchen.  She made one lasagna and I made the other!

3.  Uncle Jim patiently spending time reading and playing with my kids. ( sooo good to have him here rather than skyping from Iraq like last year)

4.  Cousins playing together…

5.  Watching my brother play with my kids.

6.  Spending the day with my nephew.

7.  My sons first Christmas

I am so thankful for the memories shared this past weekend.  They are worth far more to me than anything that could have been wrapped and put under our tree.

When cutting down a tree, much like when shopping for a dress, there seems to be an unwritten rule of conduct.

No matter how fabulous it looks, you simply can’t go with the first one you see.

One simply can’t drive to the farm, march down the aisle, and stop at the first decent looking spruce you see.

That would be far too easy. 

Where would the fun be in that?

And what if an even better tree lies waiting around the corner and you miss out because you settled for that first tree?  The easy tree.  The one you could have posed for pictures in front of, cut down, took more pictures with, and paid for all while your toes and fingers were still warm.

No, the circus family is a lot of things… loud, crazy, traditional,

…but easy is not in our vocabulary.

We like to walk up and down every row.  We find a good tree… even snap a few pictures in front of it, but then we second guess ourselves and send scouts back to that first tree.  Is it better?  The scouts never know so we leave someone at tree 2 while others go back to the easy tree.  Inevitably during this back and forth, someone stumbles across a third option.  What about this one? 

At this point, we’re all quite cold frozen through and through and eagerly agree to whichever tree the majority of us are standing closest to. 

We then set about the task of cutting down the tree.

(even the lil guy gets in on the action…never to young for a saw, we say)

By the time the tree is down and more pictures are snapped,

some of us are more excited than others.

Some are just cold and ready to get back in the toasty van. 

“Seriously, why couldn’t Mom and Dad have just agreed to the first tree? Why do they always have to make things so difficult?”