Magic

When you are a kid, the magic of Christmas is like nothing else. After the magic ended for me, sometime around age 9, I never felt that kind of anticipation, excitement, and nervous happiness again. It wasn't until 10 years later, on the day of my marriage, and then again, on the day of each of my children's birth, that I experienced that same magic. The bundled energy, the anticipation that goes hand in hand with the unknown. 

When you grow up, and even shortly after that Christmas magic dissapears, life starts to become mundane. Instead of seeing how magical the Christmas train is, that goes round and round the big tree at the mall, you only see the crowds, and the consumerism, and the rip off prices at the Santa line. I don't know why it happens. I don't know why we become bitter, and skeptical, and hurried, and jaded.  Even those of us with the best intentions, those of us who commit, year after year, to "be different" this holiday season. It seems to find even us. And the magic is just never the same.

The first Christmas we had a daughter, was when Katelyn was 11 months old. She didn't need anything of course. People joked about the wrapping paper, and the boxes, and that was truth of course.

She loved those things.

But, Kevin and I just couldn't hold back. We bought her things that were certainly light years beyond her. I am pretty sure half of her presents said "for ages 4 and up".

It was just so exciting to see Christmas through the eyes of a child again. Maybe we were living vicariously through her a bit, but I think we were just so excited to have that magic back.

The way her eyes light up at the tree. The way she dreamily looked at all of the decorations, and clapped when she heard jingle bells for the first time in her life.

The way she screamed for her santa picture.

No, don't scratch that. That was magical too. It just isn't Christmas without a screaming baby in Santa's lap.

Every year since having our first child, we have felt the magic in our home again.

Every year, we also feel the stress of financially supporting another Christmas. We say we will tone it down, every year. We have gotten better, but we never really tone it down.

The cookies, the decorations, the Christmas songs, and the lights. And of course, the magic of Christmas, through the eyes of our little ones. 

Of course, Christmas to us is so much more.  The time of year when we stop and really think about the birth of Christ in that lowly manger. The time of year when we hear songs about Christ on the radio, and we reflect on what that little baby came to earth to do. It truly is magical.

Today, we had a magical Christmas day.

We were surprised with a 4 pound box of See's candy from Muma and Papa. That was pure joy!

We were so happy as we dug our teeth into a taste of home.

 

It was like being back at home, walking through a Sees store. If you don't know about our relationship with See's, read here:

See's 

We then proceeded to load a magical train ride, out in Boone, Iowa. The land was covered in snowy white, it was cold, but not too cold. (23 is now, not that cold).

The mere fact we were riding a train was blowing Noah's mind.

We then experienced one of the most magical, jolly, lovely Christmas events I have ever been apart of.

Their was a Christmas story read, while we went along the tracks, watching the snow forest pass up by.  We passed by the North pole, and low and behold, we found Santa!  Then Santa came in, and all the kids cheered and he passed out bells!

The kids were then handed out hot cocoa and cookies, and then we all sang Christmas carols. It sounds hokey on paper, but it was a blast. Kevin, Jaime and I all said that we hope this is a memory our kids won't forget. It certainly is one that will stick with me until the end of my days.

Baker, Baker

This entry is not about my favorite Tori Amos song. Though, that song, and how it came to become my favorite Tori song, would make an interesting blog post on it's own merit. Another day, another time.

Today, my heart burst with pride. My 7 year old had a go at her first home-made goodie, all by herself.

It all started when we woke up and it was 3 degrees out.

I have been told that these temperatures are the kind that usually only come around in late January. The kind that signal winter is in the deep throes, and you have about 6 weeks left before the birdies start chirping again, and you yell "SPRING IS HERE!"

We are still 2 weeks away from winter even starting.

But it's all good, because we have an oven. And you know what that means.

Baking.

We did venture out in the arctic weather today, attended a knitting class, and saw a school performance of the Nutcracker. 

But when we got home, and my nose was frozen, I decided that running to the store for milk was just going to have to wait. I certainly had enough in the house for the family to survive on, at least for one night.

I had a hunkering for something warm.

Katelyn and I decided it was time to bust into the bakers basket (this is a magical basket full of all my baking supplies. Vanilla, and dark chocolate pieces, and brown sugar, and marshmallows, and Lord only knows what else. All I know is that when I pull out that basket, aromas come wafting out, and I am instantly sent to a magical land of munchkins, and 10 feet tall lollipops, and rivers of chocolate. ) 

I opened the fridge and found we had 1 egg. Kind of crucial.

I gave Katelyn a cookie recipe book, and told her to find a recipe that only used 1 egg. It started as my lazy way out of looking for the recipe myself, but resulted in one of the best cookies I have ever had.

For reals.

Katelyn really wanted to run with the recipe, so, against my initial inclinations,(their will be flour and sugar everywhere) I let her.

Hence the proud mommy moment.

She found the recipe, pulled all the ingredients, found we only had chocolate bars, not chips, and broke them herself.

She followed the recipe and prepared the cookies, and aside from the mixing (she turned the mixer on high, and guess what happened? Flour everywhere) she made the cookies completely on her own.

And dang, if they weren't the best cookie I have ever tasted.

I don't know what she did, maybe it was the love?

I don't mind if either of my girls grow up hating the kitchen. I don't want them to do something, just because I love it, or because I think they will love it too. I want them to explore things on their own, and find things that they love to do. Watching the pride on Katelyn's face, as she served her family the cookies, made me so happy and warm inside. When you are little, you need triumphs and victories.

Today, my little baker baker was victorious!