heaven and nature sing

It's been a good night and a long, long week.  I should be in bed, but I'm determined to catch up a bit.  Blake is out watching a friend's son do stand-up at some comedy club up north and I spent my precious hours alone making two small batches of cookies.  Satisfying work, but tiring, as I'm surviving on little sleep.  We've been keeping Advent hours--staying up until 1:30am to wrap and bake, sew and make.  Blake thinks we're finished; I say not quite, but  as we are leaving soon for Grandma's house, we may very well be at the end of our scheming and dream-weaving for the year.

Casimir is 6 months, and Lucy is 2.5 years going on five.  Today as I bent down to look at her self-named "Nutcracker twist," a version of downward facing dog that looked a bit like something her aunt Alicia taught her, I had to laugh at this serious yet oh-so-joyful little girl.  Earlier I was laughing--though admittedly I shouldn't have been--at her tantrum; she does everything with gusto.  Even singing mashed up carols in the backseat, at the park, on her daddy's shoulders.  

Lately, Lucy has been all about friends--"I just love all my friends, Mommy.  They all just love me and hug me all the time.  I love..." and then she began to list specific wee ones and included their parents.  We are so blessed to have grown-ups in our lives who love and care for our children.  Often, Lucy will be on her play-phone with Andrea, Madeline's mommy or Shannon, Lucy Scout's mommy; her friends'  mommies are always featured--complete with spouses--in her prayers.  Tonight she prayed for unborn littles, and I teared up--not because I want another one (!)--because she remembers and prays for these "small things that have no words."

My family is in town for the holidays.  We've had dinners and walked the Trail of Lights and soon we'll celebrate Christmas Eve the way we did when we were younger.  Not sure if there will be a program this year; without Sarah and her brood it seems doomed from the start--I don't want to be reminded of her absence.  It will be her first year in Beijing without any family, since Gregg and Bekka moved here to Austin.  I won't get to hold my newborn niece or chase my nephew across the lake house floor.  We'll save presents until the summer when we hope to be together again.

It is enough.   Enough to be with the ones who are here.  And later, next week, when the hustle and bustle dies down and we are home safe and sound, we'll relax and play and read and sing and enjoy a few silent nights of our own as Christmas bleeds into Epiphany.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, everyone!