Advent: Fun And Reflections

Today started with me wrangling two hyper-active boys and all of their stuff within a three foot long section of pew in Mass. Wedged between an older man and an older woman, I spent an entire hour mostly shushing my two boys, telling Ryan to stop coloring on the pew, answering Jacob's questions about how to spell randomly-selected words, physically restraining Ryan's feet when he insisted on swinging them in every direction, and picking Cheerios off the floor (and trying not to stick my butt in anyone's face in the process). I think I heard (and recited) the Our Father prayer, the rest of the Mass is just a blur.

Oh, except for the part when my son yelled during silent prayer time, "Mommy, are unicorns real?!"
"No. Shhhh."
"WELL I THINK UNICORNS ARE REAL!"
"Please, shhhh!"
"IF JESUS CAN BE REAL, UNICORNS CAN BE REAL!"

During the offering, I handed Ryan an envelope with some money and told him he could put it in the basket. Finally, the basket started to make it's way down the aisle in front of us. As it passed in front of Ryan, he chucked the envelope straight at the basket, nearly grazing the people standing in front of us. And, for the record, just barely missing the basket. The entire pew erupted into stifled laughter. I guess I should have make it more clear to Ryan that he was not supposed to "make a basket."

After Mass, our church celebrated the first Sunday of Advent with a St. Nicholas Festival. The kids got their photos with St. Nick. I made an Advent wreath. We all had cookies for breakfast. Hey, it's better than donuts, right?

Also, this is the note Jacob wrote me during Mass. He wrote "I Love You God" all by himself. I helped with the "St. Joseph."

Then I wrangled all the kids to the grocery store and then the fabric store. At the fabric store, Ryan fell asleep in my arms which made it really tricky to carry fabric up to the counter for cutting. And Jacob knocked over an entire rack of ribbon spools. The lady at the store tried to help him clean up but Jacob insisted on doing it all by himself, which took approximately one million seconds too long.

We got home to discover that my husband had finally purchased the new TV he had been talking about buying for YEARS. He likes to research, and compare, and read reviews, and measure, and research some more. I have a light trigger finger when I go shopping. When I want something (if I decide that I can afford it), I simply BUY IT.

We went from a 32 inch TV to a 51 inch TV. I never really wanted a TV this big. I grew up with a 13 inch TV and I still think that is good enough for anyone. But I have to admit, I like the way the TV fills up the blank space against the wall that used to taunt me every single night. Now the space between the two hangings above the TV taunt me (too far apart in my opinion). But I'm too lazy to move them. We have officially become a 2 TV household. That means, we have one TV per 475 square feet of house. Yikes. Too much.

One tiny living room. One ginormous TV.

My homemade Advent wreath with olive wood candle holders (from Bethlehem)

As if my day wasn't busy enough with shopping and organizing and laundry and making dinner, I decided we should have a family gingerbread house night. I have a fantastic recipe, I can't remember where it came from. But it actually TASTES good (unlike most gingerbread house recipes). And it's super easy.

Gingerbread Cookies/Houses

• 6 cups flour
• 1/2 tsp baking powder
• 4 tsp ground ginger
• 4 tsp cinnamon
• 1/2 tsp cloves
• 1/2 tsp salt
• 12 Tbs butter
• 1 1/2 cup brown sugar
• 2 eggs
• 1 cup molasses
• 1 Tbs water

Mix the dry ingredients. Mix the wet ingredients. Combine, a little at a time, then knead until dough forms a ball. Refrigerate for 2 hours. Roll dough out to 1/4 inch think. Cut out shapes. Bake at 350 for 15-20 minutes.

By the time I made the dough, let is refrigerate, cut out the shapes, cooked them, cooled them, assembled them,and then made the frosting, it was already 8:30 p.m. But Jacob and I had our hearts set on gingerbread houses, so we forged onward.

After years and years of making gingerbread houses that never stayed up, I finally got smart and used a hot glue gun this year. Worked like a charm. It was amazing. Considering that I have never met anyone who actually eats the gingerbread part of the house, I figured this was a safe bet.

Beautiful houses in progress:

Ryan is helping, kinda.

Is he putting candy on or taking it off? We shall never know.

Then he got a little bit sugar drunk. 

Actually, he was practicing his pig sounds when I snapped this shot. But this is how I look when I get drunk.

So proud (and excited to be up past 9:00 p,m,)

All done!

Before bed, Ryan flushed his sugar high out of his body by accessorizing his outfit.

Ryan walked around the house like this for approximately 15 minutes, while playing ball. Except the hanger kept falling off when he would reach down to pick up the ball. This made him a little angry. But he kept putting it right back on.

Most of my pictures of Ryan actually look like this (sans hanger):

Oh yeah, we also made Christmas ornaments. Although, we won't have a tree for another two weeks. Jacob decorated the one on the right. My husband "helped" Ryan decorate the one on the left. My husband spend way too long decorating his ornament and making sure it was just right. I think he has some childhood holiday angst to work out. Or just OCD.

It was a LONG and TIRING day. But my boys brought me so much joy and so many smiles. Sometimes I look at the boys with appreciation and sentiment and think, "Wow, God could have given you to anyone on the planet, but I'm so freaking glad he gave you to me."

Although I'm a born and raised Catholic (and would never chose to be any other religion- I truly love Catholicism) I do struggle a lot with my faith. The beliefs that came so easily to me as a child are so hard to accept as an adult. I feel a lot of skepticism and doubt. I've been unsure of a lot of things lately. I sit in the pew and I try to pray. But I just feel silly. Like an actor. It doesn't feel genuine. 

I'm the epitome of the Doubting Thomas. I have to see and feel to know that something is real. There's a lot about religion that I cannot feel or see, but the warmth and love and community of my church is 100% real. I can feel that, stronger than anything. I'm just holding on, hoping that one day everything will finally click. 

A Tribute To Brothers

A relationship between brothers is as complicated as is each brother individually. For the big brother, becoming a brother is a lot like being slapped in the face. Except everyone expects you to enjoy it. 

 The little brother has absolutely no clue what is going on and will never realize the turmoil he has wrought about his sibling. He is born content and accepting of his lot in life. He knows nothing else.

To big brother, little brother is a new thing, like a weird birthday toy. New thing is interesting. Big brother picks up the cues of others to learn how to react to the new thing. Big brother is told to kiss it. Big brother kisses it. Where did this new thing come from? It has tiny fingers. It can yawn but not speak. It's kinda loud. Ok, really loud.

But then the new thing is no longer exciting. Big brother may be a little disappointed. It turns out that little brother does not like to play Thomas the Train. The little brother is kinda boring.

For a while, a lot of the smiles are forced. Except for when the little brother does something hilarious. Like pick his nose or toot. And in something as trivial as a bodily function, a love-seed has gently sprouted.

Big brother and little brother, learn their new roles. And as little brother can do more and more, he once again becomes interesting. There is no milestone more sweet than that first moment big brother sees little brother mimicking him. A light bulb goes off. "He is like me," thinks big brother. A lifelong friendship sprouts  from that tiny love-seed.

This doesn't mean brotherhood is easy.

Sometimes, there will be a struggle to find enthusiasm.

But is does have its rewards. Like companionship. When you have a brother, you will never have to be alone.

There will always be someone to toughen you up.

To walk by your side.

To share the brunt of Mom's latest "ideas."

In your brother, you have someone to keep awake on Christmas Eve. An ear to catch your excited whispers each time you think you hear Santa. 

A brother is someone whose life parallels yours. You start in the same place and collect shared memories. Until the day you each branch off and start new adventures. And then, your brother only shows you what you could be, if only you were different.

He is always there to give you a push.

And wrestle you down when you need it. Sometimes you are on top. Sometimes you are on bottom.

Sometimes, you are just lucky the prank is not on you.

Brothers learn side by side. Each seeing the world from a different angle and opening up the other to new possibilities.

You don't always get it right the first time around. But don't worry. Your brother is there to laugh at you and show you the way. In that order, of course.

Affection often comes in many forms. Sometimes it is reluctant. But always it is there.

In your brother, you have someone to loiter with.

Someone to teach you a lesson in sharing: i.e. that it doesn't always happen.

Someone to party with. To get dressed up with.

Someone to take the spot light when you would rather not.

Someone to share in humiliation.

Someone to squirt water in your face when you need it.

To explore. 

And enjoy the wonders of life.

To laugh with.

To help you create a good thing from a bad situation. 

To teach you the important things. Like golf.

And whatever this is.

And to check you for skid marks before the doctor comes in.

Before you know it, your brother has become an extension of you. Big brother. Little brother. The two are inseparable.

The years that separate you are forgotten.

The experience and knowledge of the bigger brother is exchanged for the adoration and the wonder of the younger.

Where there once was an intruder, there is now a best friend. Because really, is it any fun to eat a Ring Pop alone?

And only your brother would want to play half-naked, teeth brushing, laundry-pillaging pirate games with you.

The blood you share is thicker than the tears that occasionally fall. It is stronger than the stubbornness and selfishness that will no doubt arise. Because despite these things, it binds you. Two rivers, running side by side. With just one source but different destinations.