Picture It

Picture it. Saint Paul. 2013. 

A mom and dad pack up their two perfect children and drive them to their perfect church. Upon arriving to church, the two children quietly and peacefully get dressed in costumes for their Christmas program dress rehearsal. They look perfect in their perfect costumes and they stand still as they sing beautifully before the congregation. They follow directions and are the envy of every parent. Perfect. Perfect. Perfect.

This is not a true story. 

Picture it. Pilgrim Lutheran Church. 2013. 

One Isabelle, dressed as a sheep, stands in front of the congregation during dress rehearsal, looking sweet as can be. As the hour drags on she begins to pretend to hula hoop, shaking her hips in a circular motion. Then, her shirt goes up. Then her hands. Scandalous.  A stressed out and embarrassed mom grabs the girl to scold her off to the side. Some chuckle while others give sympathetic and supportive glances. Back in her place, one Isabelle begins to take off her pants while singing and smiling. The same mother removes her again and threatens to cancel Christmas and take away the little lord Jesus from the nativity set. The girls prized possession. Returned to her spot once more, one Isabelle keeps it pretty G rated for the remainder of the time while one very sweet star, who has been completely ignored, begins to use his star as a gun. On the alter. At the church. 

This is a true story. 

So, you can imagine I was pretty nervous about what would happen during the actual Sunday morning performance. Here are a few moments caught on camera:

Where are my perfect children from the first story? In fact, where is Henry?

Let me tell you. Henry was over on the right side of the alter, smiling, singing, looking adorable. He sang his song, using hand gestures, "oh my soul is going to shine, shine, shine," and he was mighty proud. I missed the entire thing because I was hyper focused on Isabelle, worried she was going to flash Mary, Joseph and the baby Jesus. And she didn't. She did army crawl on the ground, take her costume off, and play with a piece of fur from someone else's costume. You know what else she did? Sang Away in a Manger just as she was told to by her teachers. They were both perfect. Perfectly normal. I just happened to push my OCD, extreme type A personality, and obsession with perfection onto them in a way that made everyone feel crazed. 

I'm upset I didn't see Henry perform. I'm upset that I didn't have more faith in Isabelle. And, I'm upset that I didn't recognize that both kids were doing what they were supposed to do. Acting like happy kids. 

Here's what I learned:

1. Isabelle is going to be an amazing hula hooper. Her free spirit will serve her well and I hope she is always a confident girl.

2. Henry is into the theatrics and seemed to really enjoy himself. I hope he is always a confident boy.

3. I love my children. They make me a bit nuts, but they help me let go of my hangups a little at a time, a little each day. 

--maggie

P.S. Sophia said it was fine to use her story telling line. Don't worry. 

Big Boi and The Love Below

Wanna know something? We have a record player. Wanna know how often it is used? Almost never. Wanna know why? Because I am crazy. True story. 

About 8 years ago, Nick and I purchased a record player. We spent time together at record shops building our collection and stored them in some sort of janky crate. This was fine until I turned crazy. I decided the crate looked bad with our other, now grown up, furniture and made a purchase of a box type thingy from ikea. Nick decided it was too flimsy and would damage the records. He then purchased a piece of furniture from his cousin that I immediately rejected. Crazy. Nick moved the piece of furniture to the basement, along with all of the records. The record player is in the dining room. See how this makes no sense? Nick and I really enjoy music and, in the past, buying records together. Nick certainly has a stronger connection to the records and it seems pretty mean to make him hide his love away in the nasty basement. Luckily, my BFF Sue is helping to calm the crazy so I decided to figure out how to fix this record problem. I researched on the googles what other record lovers use to store records. Many wrote about a shelf from ikea. I bundled Isabelle, we grabbed up one of those shelves, built it and arranged the records. A Christmas miracle for my number one:

It's placed conveniently in the dining room with tons of room to grow our collection. Shoot, you can buy more of the same shelf. Line em up. Stack em high. It's pretty much awesome. We have some great records- Dr. Dre, The Black Keys, Sex Pistols, The Clash, Marvin Gaye, MJ, Simon and Garfunkel, Stevie Wonder, etc- and we have been listening to them like crazy.  I walked into the living room yesterday afternoon to find Henry and Nick playing tecmo bowl while listening to led zeppelin on record. I spent that same morning wrapping presents to Outkast, The Love Below:

  

Nick had taken the kids to church and to make advent wreaths while I stayed home to nurse my cold and get some christmasing done. On the record, Big Boi has a song about church- "sometimes life can keep you down, with your face all in the dirt. Now if you feel that left behind, need to get up and go to church." I started to think about church. I have pretty positive memories of the church I went to before my parents divorce. It was old, smelled like a church, had Sunday school, and I met Jessie Jackson one Sunday. Once my parents split I was moved into the catholic religion by way of my father's second marriage. I was baptized, had first communion and was confirmed all in the same day. At age 14. It was totally strange, and I was already strange and teenagery enough. I knew then that the church wasn't for me and I just kind of sailed through my required Sunday morning visits. I learned very little except that I did not love it. Naturally, I married a man with a religion major and a fairly strong connection to faith. It didn't really become something we discussed until our little friends were born. We thought maybe we should look into joining a church. A catholic church was not a choice for me so we started with a non-denominational church. The pastor was seriously the bomb and we thought we were settled there. However, it was not a fit long term as their values did not align with ours. It was not okay with me to join a church where some are excluded and I certainly did not want my children receiving that message. So, we left and tried Unitarian. It was a fit belief wise, but Nick needed a bit more of a traditional church feel. So, we left. 

It's hard to find a church. Driving down Saint Clair avenue one morning we saw a church with a sign that read, "all of god's children welcome here." On the sign was a dove and a rainbow. A promising sign. It's called Pilgrim Lutheran Church and it is the church we decided to join. The kids really love church, which I find odd based on my own childhood experiences. They look forward to service and Sunday school. They have friends. We've met some too. It is refreshing to be part of a community and we have made a genuine effort to attend. The way the kids believe so eagerly is helping me. Isabelle and Henry's enthusiasm and innocence is teaching me how to forgive and how to move on with life in a way that includes some type of god. There is comfort in that as well as a lot of work. But, it is worth it because I know, just like on the record, that when life seems to leave me behind I need to get up and go to church. Sometimes I don't even listen to the service, I just sit with my family and enjoy an hour of peace. I think that's what faith is- my family. And maybe records.

--maggie 

Out with the Minis. In with the Tree.

Thanksgiving. This happened:

And this:

See those mini pumpkin votives? Amazing.

The day was great and nothing was burned, no one puked, and no one fought. An overall success with great company, a warm home and enough food for ten thanksgivings. I was pretty tired when all was said and done and was looking forward to a relaxing evening. This happened instead: 

Nick's feelings toward Christmas match mine for mini pumpkins. That is to say, within ten minutes of the departure of our Thanksgiving guests Nick had hauled up the Christmas tree box. Assembly began and the tree was up and lit shortly thereafter. I was slightly annoyed by this whole situation, but my attitude soon changed when I saw the kids running around with excitement at the sight of our Christmas tree. They eagerly looked through all of the ornaments and we decorated the tree to a little Mannheim Steamroller on the record player. Our home quickly transformed and it is full blown Christmas up in here. The kids are completely caught up in the magic and it is awesome to see. Isabelle is obsessed with the nativity set and refers to the baby Jesus as "the little lord Jesus." She takes him everywhere. He is currently in the car waiting for her to finish preschool. 

The kids are also enjoying Christmas movies, Santa hats, advent tree countdown and the return of Laru, our invisible, not on the shelf, elf. Isabelle and Henry each left him/her a note to take to Santa:

Dear Santa,

Do you like my behavior? Do you think I can get presents because of my behavior or not?

Your friend,

Henry Bruecken 

Ho-Ho-Ho Santa,

My name is Isabelle. Hee-haw! You're very nice for bringing presents. I've been good and bad and funny and can count to three. Mom got out the Christmas decorations like the snow globe and stuff. I love chocolate milk. I love baby things like my ornament. I love cooking ginger breads when I grow up like a mom. I want some pink strawberry flavored milk. I love Christmas books. I love you, Santa. 

-Isabelle 

This is a wonderful time of year. Nick told me this after we put up our tree: "Not everyone believes. I still believe. There's comfort in thinking someone is out there making all of this happen." Young and old, this household believes in the magic of the season and we are continuing to give thanks for all that we have to enjoy. 

Hee-Haw,

maggie

P.S.

If you enjoy holiday coffee drinks, but not the $4.00 price tag, try purchasing a dark roast and add a little cream and sugar. Next, apply peppermint Chapstick. Boom. Holiday drink. You're welcome.