Christmas 2010 recap

There were so many memorable things about our trip to Denver for Christmas.

There are 34 of us in all (and counting!), and we were all together for the first time in more than two and a half years.

We played games, talked together, had pictures taken, played with the children.  And we cooked.  Lots and lots of food.  I intended to take pictures of so many things, but in the end I spent my time running from one thing to another, being a mom, cleaning, cooking, visiting.

We acted out the Nativity on Christmas Eve, letting everyone choose their parts.  I think we had four Marys and three Josephs.   It was short and sweet.  Very sweet.  Especially the angels.


Then the children were tucked in bed, anticipating a visit from Santa.  Our poor baby threw up all night long, making for an interesting development in holiday activities.  Christmas morning dawned with my husband and I exhausted and the children excited.  I was in charge of the meals on Christmas day and in my worry about getting breakfast going I didn’t even get a picture of all eight of my children on Christmas morning!  Shame on me.  Oh well.  Gratefully they were all happy with their gifts.

For what it’s worth, these are my favorites among the shots I managed to take.


She’d asked for a Santa hat.  He shared one with her.


In her new pink nightgown.


Tearing open gifts with lightning speed.


My awesome husband (above) held our vomiting baby ALL DAY LONG so I could oversee Christmas Dinner for 34 people.


Denver Broncos pjs, a coonskin cap and playmobil toys.  Could a boy be happier?


My six year old with her new doll.


My three year old with her new bitty baby and backpack.


The dreamed of dragon now belongs to this boy!

The best part might have come at the last.  My husband hid our oldest son’s gift in the closet next to the broom.  We were all opening gifts when he asked our son to grab the broom and sweep up a little mess.  Of course, the response was “I didn’t make that mess.”  We asked again.  After some convincing, he reluctantly went to get the broom.

I wish I’d thought to turn on my flash sooner, but these blurry shots still capture the essence of what followed.


The broom came out and he almost turned and walked away.  Instead he did a double take.


He sets the broom down and leans back against the wall in disbelief.


Finally he reaches into the closet and pulls out a new snowboard with his name on it.  He walks to the entryway where he stops to laugh in surprise and joy (and his mom gets her camera working properly… why didn’t we video tape this?).


While his Dad stands across the room laughing and smiling that smile that only comes when you do something wonderful for someone because you love them wholeheartedly.


And then I went to the kitchen and before I knew it Christmas was over.  But it was awesome.

Jennifer

December 23rd

We have a long standing tradition in my family on December 23rd.  For as long as I can remember, it’s the night we sleep under the Christmas tree.  You see, my parents always gave us the gift of incredible Christmas trees.  We went to the mountains as a family to choose and cut the finest tree and haul it home.  It went in the living room, where the vaulted ceiling rises two stories high, and it always touched the top.


In planning our trip to Grandma’s house for Christmas, the thing I was most excited for was sharing this special tradition with my children.  We always sleep under the tree on the 23rd, but doing it under such a large tree is doubly fun.  We went to the church for a night of games, relays, talent shows and dancing to help wear everyone out.

Imagine this group all sleeping on the floor in one room:


The three babies ended up in their cribs in other rooms, but the one missing grandchild in the picture above (my oldest) joined us for the party.


Grandma and Grandpa gave a flashlight to each child and we somehow found room on the floor for all of them (thankfully most are still under age 8).  We dimmed the lights…


slowly settled everyone down…


(I know that picture is totally blurry but somehow it captures the feeling in the room) and then I had the honor of reading the children to sleep.

I read one of my favorites:  Barbara Robinson’s The Best Christmas Pageant Ever.  We read it from cover to cover as the room slowly quieted and one child after another dropped off to sleep.  My six year old niece, however, lay just a few feet from where I sat.  She stayed awake the entire time, completely engrossed in the story.  She laughed so hard it made me laugh too.

My throat ached and I wondered if I’d have a voice in the morning.  Five girls stayed up way too late and it was a project to get them to hold still long enough to feel tired.  But it was wonderful.  There is something about reading children to sleep that makes you feel like all is right in the world.  Doing it by the light of a Christmas tree makes it even better.

Before we left for home after Christmas I talked to the children about treasures.  We talked about different kinds of treasures and I told them that memories are among the most precious treasures we have.  I think that those hours under the tree, reading a story, are my Christmas treasure.  I have a special bond with my little niece who laughed with me through the story.  I have a special memory of two people whispering “Goodnight, I love you” to each other as tears pricked at my eyes.  And when they had all settled down and gone to sleep, I sat there in the darkness listening to the sound of their breathing.  Eighteen people sleeping in one room together makes a small chorus of breathing that was worth remembering.  I sat in the darkness and listened to all the moms and dads in the other room talking and playing games together.  It was kind of fun to be the one that provided not just the story for the kids but the down time for the parents down the hall.  I sat there in the stillness of it all and looked at the tree, remembering many Christmases long ago as I lay in the same room, the same stillness, staring at the lights on the Christmas tree, listening to my Mom’s voice as she read stories to us, drinking in the wonder of the holiday, wondering about my future and what it held.

All these things rushed through my mind as I sat beneath the tree and a growing feeling of gratitude filled my heart.  Gratitude for my parents, for my brothers and sisters and all their children, for my husband, for my own children.  Gratitude for tradition, for life coming full circle in small ways as another generation comes along.  Gratitude for the anchor that tradition provides in a crazy world.

Thirty-three people sleeping under one roof.  It might have been my favorite night of the year:  December 23rd.

HH

Time in the Stable

It seems that every year I find a different aspect of the Christmas story to ponder.  As with all of Christ’s teachings, as my life changes there are new insights which settle on my heart.  As this beautiful nativity (painted by my daughter several years ago) portrays, Jesus Christ really is the heart of it all.


Sometimes, however, other supporting roles tug at my heart.  This year, as has been the case before, I’ve been thinking a lot about Mary.

I’ve been marveling that God chose an inexperienced mother to raise his Only Begotten Son.  I know the fulfillment of prophecies required that he be the firstborn, but still I feel amazed that Heavenly Father trusted his Son to a mother who’d never done it before.

I feel particularly grateful for that thought this Christmas season for, ironically, I’m feeling very inexperienced myself.  In some ways I feel more inexperienced now than I did when my first baby was placed in my arms.   Recently my teen-aged son and I were trying to resolve a misunderstanding.  In the middle of it all I felt overwhelmed by the reality that I am a rookie.  I’ve never done this before.  I’ve never had a teenager before.  I’ve never raised eight children before.  I’ve never worried about the things I worry about before.  All of it is new.   Nothing about my life before this prepared me for the magnitude of what I’m doing now.  I’m trying frantically to learn but the learning curve is steep and I feel terribly behind.

Pondering Mary has comforted me, reminding me that she, too, must have felt terribly overwhelmed with the trust placed in her.  She must have also wondered if she was learning fast enough.  But she did it.  She completed her assignment.  And I will keep working on mine.

Maybe there’s hope for me yet.

Jennifer

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