I look to 2012 & what I wish to accomplish, all I see is a desire to grow.  Personally, by selling our house & buying a new home where we can expand our family.  Creating a super-fun new series for everyone to laugh & be themselves.  Developing a new skill, maybe taking structured sewing lessons.  I’d like to take where I am now in life, push against the walls until my arms are shaking & my voice feels tired, but everything around me expands.

When I try to pin one word to 2012, I am suprised that my initial reaction is not “grow,” but HOW I wish to grow.  How I wish to expand & breathe deeply & where to exhale my heart.

PRETTY.

A surprising word to shape a year around, no?

I look to delight in life in 2012.  To soak in new books & pretty words, to paint walls & furniture.  To iron pretty shirts & wear red lipstick & take care of myself both inside & out.  For the home to be clean, but full of laughter & sunshine & Matchbox cars strewn across the floor.  To live the abundant life & a beautiful life, to feel worth of feeling pretty all around me.

I think “pretty” can be bone-deep joy & thankfulness.

The pretty found in the muck & trenches of life.  Seeking God, but feeding souls by passing bread rather than Bible quotes.  To let faith become a life-altering beat in my heart to where prayer is not whispered on knees, but servitude with dirty hands that scrub away years of doubting myself.

I’d like to put my heart back on my sleeve.

I’d like to share all of those things on here.

Do you have a word for the year?  Something to strive toward? 

So they count it different ways.  Numbers on the scale, resolutions written in ink, goals scratched in journals, or one word.

I have been silent this week because I do not know how to begin 2012.  How do I begin with one word when I want to strive for so many words?  How do I narrow that down?  How do I resolve to get healthy before growing our family again without sounding cliche, all while waiting with anxious breath for one person to fall in love with our home?

The past year I fell in love with motherhood & battled demons & changed jobs & took on my first hard-core paid writing gig.  We balanced on a fence throughout most of the year, waiting for chips to fall & our lives to finally settle.  Some of them have, some of them haven’t, & I’ve found my voice oddly silent during these times.  Maybe that’s maturity & wisdom that being 28 in 2011 brought me & will continue teaching as I turn 29 in 2012.  Maybe it’s that little piece of me that keeps changing & growing & spinning bigger to where it’s not such a little piece anymore…it’s me.

All of me.

 The silly. The mother & wife. The spiritual. The career woman & homemaker. The blasphemous. The girl that struggles with life & contentedness & body image, who loves pretty pictures & yellow roses & yes, a good set of shapewear.

p.s. i have scribbled down words & resolutions & goals.  i’ll be sharing soon.

11:45pm on Christmas Eve, putting in the 417th screw & an empty whisky glass beside me.

As I said a wee bit ago, we do Santa in our home.

When I wrote that little manifesto, I held so much anticipation in my heart for the coming Christmas Eve.

That night, we sang by candlelight in church & ate spaghetti with family around the dining room table.  Later than normal, Doug & I tucked a very sleepy Harrison into bed with Christmas jammies & The Polar Express.  After changing into comfy clothes & pouring whisky & gingers, we sat down on the living room rug with Santa’s presents.  We began with the most challenging piece, Harrison’s play kitchen.  Over the next two hours, Doug & I laughed & talked about the past year.  How much Harrison has grown, how he will love his new toys, how this season has been so amazing with his ability to participate.  With Christmas carols playing in the background, I really got it.

Watching the presents come together, presents I bought for my little boy, carefully selecting what I thought he might like.  I realized that these twelve hours between bedtime & Christmas morning were a parent’s best part of the year.  The sacrifice & joy & complete infatuation with my child, all coming together on one day.  When we laid down a little past midnight, I felt more excitement as a parent than as a child on Christmas, simply imagining his reaction at the gifts by the tree.

& Harrison’s smile on Christmas Day did not disappoint.

p.s. there are 360 days until harry is three at christmas & i cannot freakin’ wait.

ANYWAY.

Christmas was lovely & quiet this year.  We made Christmas cookies on December 24th to leave out for the fat man & Harry may have snuck one two okay, three.

In his defense, they were delicious.  That night, we dressed to impress for the Christmas Eve candlelight service, which is always my favorite part of Christmas.  Being in our home church where we married & now with a small boy on my hip, I raised my candle during the final chorus of “Silent Night.”  It is always the little things that get me right in my heart at the holidays.

(more on Christmas Eve & playing Santa later)

I am so bummed that this shot is out of focus because this was Harrison all Christmas morning.  Pure joy.  I think for this particular shot, he had just lost his toddler marbles over the fact that Santa! Left! Dum-Dums! in his stocking.

Here was Harry’s haul.  Tip:  TJ Maxx sells Melissa & Doug for $5.00 per puzzle.

Dear Lord, the bed-head playing with toys.

“Thanks for the presents, Daddy!”
(it’s doug without a hat!  like catching a zebra in the wild!)

oh, Santa.  You’re too sweet to me.  (it was a bluebird charm)

My favorite present with a big shiny bow on his cheek.  Once presents were opened, we sat down to a big breakfast of bacon & biscuits & grits.  Harrison took a long nap while Doug & I watched the latest Harry Potter.  It was a sweet, relaxing day.

How was your Christmas?  I have been so MIA since Christmas, so I would love to hear what you got or what the favorite moment was or if you posted about the holidays, leave a link so we can all catch up.  

It is magic & make-believe & hope, all the things we wish to instill in our child.  Wide-eyes at twinkling lights & soft stockings hung on the mantle & cookies on a plate.  Santa is purity of heart, goodness prevailing.  The belief in Santa is the same as the innocence that Superman can fly, that mermaids swim in the ocean, & that Momma’s kiss takes away a boo-boo.

It is not deception, but child-like faith.

It is not a story of greed & selfishness, but rather a man symbolic of grace & mercy.

In our home, Santa does not give gifts for being “good.”

Santa is not a manipulation.  Santa is grace.

Pure grace in the form of gifts under the tree as an act of love & sacrifice.  Gifts that we may not deserve, may not earn, may struggle with accepting, but gifts are there as a promise every Christmas morning.  Steadfast & loyal, Santa brings a grace that surpasses understanding & with it, love to fill hearts & souls & bring us closer.

It sounds similar to another story of Christmas, no?

& when it comes time that our children question a man squeezing down a chimney & a red-nosed reindeer, we will tell them that Santa is grace & that as long as they believe in that, gifts will be bestowed.  Just like Someone Else.

So yes, Harrison.  There is a Santa Claus.

We just have one in our house.  I guess it was a little lonely.

Last week, my dad brought Harrison his own tiny tree.

I took Harrison to Target & gave him free (supervised, of course) reign in the ornament department.  He chose colored lights & green beads & little jingle bells & a pink car.  He also picked up the spray of blue ovals that I had no idea what to do with until I needed a “star.”

I think my kid is a better decorator than I could ever dream of.

My contribution was a little cardinal for North Carolina.  It’s our state bird & stuff.

Do you have more than one tree?  Anything themed?  Do the kiddos get to decorate their own?

I hate that for the past six years, the holidays had become a burden because of my previous employment.  We pulled out dusty Christmas trees & bins of ornaments, thousands to take inventory.  A week later, my day was spent decorating three, four, sometimes five Christmas trees & hanging garland until I trudged home exhausted & filthy.  Then I would stand in my living room, staring at my fresh tree & wonder how I could muster another string of lights.  I felt dull putting the pieces of my beloved nativity up, a present from Doug, because I had already set up two similar stables around my office.  I wondered how I could bake cookies with my child when the sight of the piles of sweets, gifts from other companies, made my blood sugar & pressure rise.  Last year, I did not plan or throw my traditional tacky sweater party because after two company gatherings & three resident parties, I was partied out.  (& not in the exhilerated way we all remember from our twenties.)

In the middle of October, my Christmas assignments dropped onto my desk & that night, I cried that I could not take one more holiday season.  I could not mingle at one more party not hosted by me, or hang one more garland that was not mine.  Four days after my sobfest, a phone call came, an offer was accepted, & I tore my Christmas assignment sheet in half.  Quite gleefully, I might add. 

This year, I anticipate the holidays eagerly.  My friend Sarah spurred me to plan the Sweater Party & I bake cookies with Harrison each Saturdy.  I’m finding ways to give back with the little we have this year, which is still more than most.  Doug & I curled up one night, slippers on feet & glasses of champagne in hand, remembering each ornament & dancing to Christmas carols.

O come, O come, Emmanuel…

This is real-life, friends.  Please notice the drooping garland, random golf clubs, & the pizza boxes on the kitchen table where we’re using the formal dining room chairs because oh yeah, I sold our kitchen chairs & haven’t replaced them yet.  Also the Matchbox cars, strategically placed to ensure that my kid’s first real words to anyone in public will be “DAMN IT ALL TO HELL.”

& so begins the week of yuletide cheer!

Gone were any colored lights & we decorated our tree with white twinkles.  I traded out elaborate garlands that strung along the mantle & banisters for a simple, fresh-looking garland tied with cream grosgrain ribbons.  A simple vine wreath hangs on our front door, but we decided against lights in the bushes or candles in the windows.  With our home on the market for sale, we have tried to incorporate the season in a classy, simple way.

My favorite decoration is from DaySpring – the nativity candle holders.  At night, they give off the most beautiful glow.

My Willow Tree nativity, a gift over several Christmases from Doug.  (as always, it is perched on top of the bar.)

A little sass on the tree, reminding us to keep our bedroom spicy.  Also reminding us that if we’re not careful, that can lead to the gal on the far right of the picture.  Yep, she’s knocked up as a nod to 2009 when I was pregnant with Harrison.

Our Christmas countdown that hangs on the wall.  Harry is still a little too young to enjoy it, but I’m not!

A look back at 2009 & 2010…amazing how my taste has changed & grown over the years, but this year of simplicity is my favorite.

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Last weekend, Santa was in our small town with sleigh rides & cocoa, but between showings & nap schedules & work, there was no way we could make it.  Bummer, because we had to wait in line 30 minutes today.  Harrison did an awesome job of being patient, even if he was a little nervous.

Momma waited with him, too.

Come on, Momma!  oh, be still my heart.  Those eyes get me every time.

oh.  Wait.  You mean I have to actually go see that guy?  You mean I’m NEXT?!  (I secretly love it when he grabs onto my legs.  I just think it’s so darn cute.)

It’s better when Daddy sits with me.

Apparently he asked for a car & a choo-choo train.  I think Santa can handle those.

Harry & I are currently having the most fun today – he’s in an awesome mood & even though he didn’t nap, we’ve put together puzzles (he’s moving on to interlocking, which is blowing my mind) & pretending to talk to Santa on an old cell phone.  Minus the five minutes after I discovered that he ripped apart his “Where’s Spot?” book, toddlerhood is so baller today.  Plans tonight include family movie night, where we whip up a pizza for dinner & cookies for dessert.