all together now: a christmas eve retrospective, part 2

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(Part 1 is here)

Where were we?  Christmas Eve. We had breakfast with friends. Mark took the kids to the park while I played Santa.

It seemed a little strange to have the kids open gifts in their clothes.  So even though it was well past noon when they got home from the park, I made them change into their pajamas before entering the house.  And the rest was pure Christmas magic.

Snack break.

Kembe and Karis think the djembe drum covers make nice hats.  (Djembe: rhymes with Kembe).

I feel compelled to say that I feel strongly that adoption is not about removing a child from poverty so that the child can have a better life materially.  It’s about creating a family for a child.  I also feel compelled to say that Kembe’s first Christmas since coming home from Haiti?  Was awesome to behold.  It was so fun to experience it with him.

We had an amazing Christmas this Christmas Eve . . . and spent the evening packing while the kids were distracted with their new toys.  And the next morning, we left California and arrived in a snowy Atlanta for our first White Christmas.  But that is a story for another post.

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all together now: a christmas eve retrospective, part 1

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I have taken an obscene amount of photos over the past five days.  I have lots to say about flying with our four kids for the first time, and the subsequent 8-hour 3-family road trip, but I’m just give you a teaser because I have previously-taken photos to post, and I don’t want mess up the time-space continuum by posting out-of-order.  So, I leave you with this little spoiler alert:

1. it was both better and worse than I thought it would be
2. there was puking
3. there but by the grace of Glee and headphone go I

Also, I feel like I should note that many concerned friends have chided me for posting online about going on vacation.  I guess I am practically inviting people to come rob our empty house.   So, I will offer the same open letter to criminals that I offered last year,  Except, for full disclosure, we have upgraded our floors since I wrote that.  But I don’t think they have a very high street value. 

And now comes the part where I barrage you with photos from Christmas Eve.  And not just this year!  I have nostalgic and self-indulgent older photos to post, too!  (Now might be a good time to go see what’s going on at MamaPop.)

Still here?  And ready to take a stroll down memory lane?

For the last ten years, we've had a Christmas Eve breakfast with the same four couples. It has become a tradition I look forward to every year, and this year even Jafta talked about how it would be the way we start our Christmas festivities.  I am rarely a sentimental person, but looking at these photos over the years always gets me a little misty, both for my own family, and for our friendships.

Here we are in 2005, back when the skinny jean sounded like a cruel joke and we were taking pictures with film so we didn’t know if someone had their eyes shut in a photo until we got the roll back from Costco.  It was our first Christmas as parents.  Then, on the right, fast forward to two years later.  Another kid (but still rocking the low-rise boot cut).

The next Christmas, I was pregnant and finally invested in a digital camera.  The next year, Karis arrived, Jafta rocked a faux-hawk, and I changed the direction of my part again. 

 

And finally (and obviously), this year, we are thrilled to have our family complete.  I love this picture . . . even though Kembe is wearing the fakest smile ever.  And even though I am wearing the same jacket that I wore in 2006.

And here is the progression of our group photos.  Clearly, we have all invested in better cameras over the years.

2002

2003

2005

2008

2010

We had a great Christmas Eve morning with our friends, and felt a sense of gratefulness that our table represented the completion of each family.  In part, because Kembe was home.  And in part because I just don’t think we could fit another child at the table. 

After breakfast, Mark dropped me off at home and took the kids on our other Christmas Eve tradition: taking food to a group of homeless people at a nearby park.  Since we were flying out in the wee a.m. on Christmas day, we needed to have Santa come early. 

Meanwhile . . .

To be continued . . . .

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my christmas gift to you

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What Can I Give Them*?

*them being YOU, the good people who read this blog.  Sung to the tune of “What Can I Give Him”

What can I give them,

Poor as I am?

They come and read my rantings

and like me as I am

If I were a wise girl

I would go to bed

Yet what can I give them?

Some videos I’ll embed!

These are some of our family favorites – maybe some day this week it can give you an evening of fun with your own family.  There is just something about choreographed dancing in the street . . . grown men getting blasted with paint . . .  and muppets whipping their hair all around . . .

I think there is something here to make even the meanest Scrooge smile with happiness.

Merry Christmas!

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merry christmas

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stephen colbert on the gospel

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I enjoyed this.

The Colbert Report	Mon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c
Jesus Is a Liberal Democrat
www.colbertnation.com
Colbert Report Full Episodes Political Humor & Satire Blog</a> March to Keep Fear Alive

“If this is going to be a Christian nation that doesn’t help the poor, either we’ve got to pretend that Jesus was just as selfish as we are, or we’ve got to acknowledge that he commanded us to love the poor and serve the needy without condition — and then admit that we just don’t want to do it.”

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mina pincessesses and penis christmas houses

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We continue in our commitment to the Go Big Or Go Home Holiday 2010 Extravaganza.

We made gingerbread houses.

I think Jafta’s technique here exemplifies the Go Big Or Go Home philosophy.  Sure, you could take dainty bites of a smaller piece in your hand.   But why not just take a bite out of the roof?  Really, WHY NOT?

After gorging herself on sugar for about an hour, Karis decided to climb onto the table and dance around like a drunk girl at a Phish concert.  Rock on, Karis.

We’ve visited Disney.  On multiple occasions.  Once, by myself with all four kids. A Christmas miracle.

 

I took India to see The Nutcracker.  She loved it, despite the nonsensical plot that makes Mullholland Drive seem easy to understand.  I think someone was having a bad acid trip when they wrote that play.  And still, it is performed by thousands of dance companies the world over each Christmas.  We missed buying tickets to the more reputable ballet schools, and ended up seeing it at a local community college.  I wish I could have filmed some of the men cast in the production.  Let me just say, they were not giving the Double Dream Hands guy any competition.  Also, there was a family in the audience who didn’t realize that it is completely tacky to scream and hoot for your own child by name every time they come on stage.  So I spent the better part of the performance shooting them dirty looks and eye rolls.  Just my special way of sharing Christmas cheer.

India has refused to go anywhere without a tutu and a tiara since the performance.  She was very impressed with the Sugar Plum Fairy, whom she calls a Ballerina Princess.  She has Mark spin her around like the couple doing the Pas De Deux.   I really think Mark could audition and get a part in the company we saw.  Which, if you’ve seen Mark dance . . . is kind of scary.  

Her upper body has good form, but she could use some work on her turn-out.

Karis is impressed with anything her sister is impressed with, so she has also taken to wearing a tutu and calling herself a “mina pincessesses” (ballerina princesses. plural twice).

Always, always with the picture face

Last night, we went to the quintessential Orange County Christmas destination: the Peanuts Christmas House.  This house turns into a Charlie Brown version of It’s A Small World.  We’ve been going here for years, but the kicker this year is that the boy who lives in this house is in Jafta’s class.  Jafta feels like he has a celebrity in his class, and last night we got to go inside the Peanuts house.  It was very exciting.

On the way home, India innocently asked, “Mommy, why is it called the Penis Christmas House?”  Which, of course, the boys thought was the most hilarious thing they have ever heard.  Despite my stern warnings against it, they spent the rest of the evening talking about the Penis House and laughing hysterical.  I tried to shut it down, but Mark assured me that it was no use.

Hope you are all enjoying the season.  We are having a blast.  Five days and counting until our first flight with the kids . . . did I mention Mark has steel rods in both of his legs so I get to do the TSA thing all by myself with four kids?  I CAN’T WAIT!

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