Christmas Eve

I had big plans on Christmas Eve. I thought we would discuss the Savior, the reason for the season.

Sing some beautiful Christmas Carol's, read the story of His birth. I even bought a new book that told the story with songs through out it. All with the beautiful ambiance of candlelight. 

Reality.

All my girls could think about and squeal about was Santa, that big jolly ol' elf of a man who would be coming down OUR chimney that very night. Yes, Rudolph with his red nose would be up on our roof, snacking on our carrots. They only wanted to sing about Santa up on the housetop click, click, click. And, well,  I had a different agenda. So instead of getting excited with them and feeling their energy, I got frustrated and would snap. Because we were suppose to talk, praise, and sing about  the Savior, damn it! Not very Christ-like at all. luckily, Brad stepped up and said "This isn't working. Stop being selfish." I looked at him, incredulous, selfish? Whatever could he mean? I was talking about Jesus?!? 

Yes, I was being selfish.I wasn't thinking about those little girls of mine and what they wanted, but only me and this little moment I had articulated all in my head that would be the perfect spiritual moment. 

Well, guess what I learned this year? 

Manufactured spirituals moments do not happen with my family on Christmas Eve. And you know what? I remember the excitement of Christmas Eve as a child too. My parents were religious people and yet I was allowed to daydream and only think of Santa on Christmas Eve, and my dad has to be the most spiritual and religious human being I know.My dad didn't sit us down and preach about the Savior of the World on Christmas Eve, because he was to busy doing and giving to preach.

My dad never had to preach it, he lived it.I remember one year we had Veterans, who had nowhere to go, my dad picked them up from the Vet Hospital near our house in the station wagon, and they gathered around our dinner table on Christmas Eve. My parents welcomed them into our home, gave them a hot family meal, let them tell their stories, and marvel at the beauty of the Christmas tree.  Before my dad drove them home he would give them a Hickory Farm's basket all wrapped up, so they had a Christmas gift to open.

I learned a lot this Christmas. 

For one thing, when I want to teach about the spiritual part of Christmas I need to probably do it on a different night than the one Old St. Nick will be visiting :) 

 

Other than that minor hiccup, Christmas Eve was a fun day/night. 

We started off baking cookies for Santa. B thought he would like Chocolate chip cookies best.

Then we delivered some cookie tins to some of B's friends (and when I say "friends" I mean the teenage girls who babysit her. She wanted to bake them all cookies, oh, and Uncle Jimmy he got cookies too. If you can't remember who Uncle Jimmy is click here). She loved it. 

Then before we headed to Grandma and Grandpa's she dressed herself. She wanted to look like a candy cane she said.  (On a side note, she also asked me the other day why we didn't name her Astrid, because she likes that name. I may have a granddaughter named Astrid)

 The girls watching Grandma open her special gift. They found this at the pet store, and ecstatic is an understatement for how they felt about buying this for Grandma.  

 It's a stocking full of cat toys, not just any cat toys, PINK ones.

On our way home we stopped at a park with this tree, they call the Tree of Light. The whole park lit up, but this center one is beautiful. The picture just can't do it justice. We were going to just drive by but B wanted to get out and we thought "Oh, what the heck, it's Christmas Eve" so we all got out.  Oohed and awed, and then just a quickly ran back to the warm car.

Brad showing his true feelings regarding selfies.  

After the kids were in bed we planned an impromptu trip to San Diego... set to leave the following night.  That's a story for another post.

PS I think I like last minute getaways the best, no pretrip stress!