I have two things on my mind today, so I'm probably going to waste all my writing minutes on blog posts. (I learned last week I can write for about 1200 words before it hurts to much to go on)
Because we spent so much time this year unemployed and job hunting, Bryan has come up with a pretty ingenious method for getting the Christmas shopping done. It's not going to be a big Christmas, but we've gone light before, and Brandon can't even think of anything he wants. I told him we'll probably have more to add to his list once he gets his mission call, and until then I'm okay with waiting.
But we asked the other 4 kids to come up with wish lists for Christmas this week, so we can get started on the acquisition part of the exercise. Every year we do this, and every single time I'm humbled and amazed by my children.
The twins took all evening, brainstormed together, and could barely come up with much of anything. Though the things that made the list were pretty practical, and some just for fun.
My Rose came up with the longest list. She never has had a shortage of things she wants, you know? But I like long lists because they give us plenty of options.
My youngest, of course, made me cry. Her list starts with an English to German dictionary (what 11 yr old asks for that?!) and ends with a miracle. Among the other things she listed are help for stress and a gallon of milk all her own. Mind you, when it comes to food that's the only place where we haven't had to scrimp and take shortcuts. These kids have no shortage of food. But she misses chicken thighs and lettuce (lettuce goes fast and Bryan doesn't always think to buy it) and wants a gallon of milk she can put her name on. We had a long conversation about the stress thing. I know most of her stress is self inflicted, like mine, but that doesn't lessen the impact any. And we're going to talk more. It's been a rough year for her, for all of us. People who never experience stretches of time with no income really can't understand the emotional damage it can do. And I hate it most because it impacts my kids in ways I can't always control or mitigate.
So, in a nutshell, even when life is all uphill and blind cliffs my kids are awesome. I love them so much, they teach me every day and I'm so glad to be their mom.
Showing posts with label Christmas. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Christmas. Show all posts
Thursday, October 29, 2015
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
Baking
Yesterday and today I'm baking gifts for friends and loved ones. I'm out of money to mail things, but I've got lots of love to spread out here, so it's all good. Yesterday I made batches and batches of cookies. Today, it's breadsticks. I'm going to put a little Christmas poem in with each package and deliver them tonight. Fun, fun. You can click HERE for the Christmas poem. I posted it on my author blog.
I have some news, but I'm going to wait to share it next week. Let's get through Christmas first, for goodness sake!
I have some news, but I'm going to wait to share it next week. Let's get through Christmas first, for goodness sake!
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Focus
The shopping frenzy is done. Now it's time to remember what this holiday is really about.
I'd love to say I purposely saved my baking and gift mailing for next week because the kids will be home and they can help me share the spirit of Christmas with our faraway friends and loved ones. I'd really be feeling like an amazing mom if I could say that. But let's be real. I'm me. And the truth is I am making secret presents this week and have no time for baking and mailing. The kids will be able to help and share in all that by default.
I take no credit for it. But, I still think it will be fun.
We do make an effort every year to remind the kids what the gifts actually represent. I'm fortunate enough to have kids who don't put a lot of emphasis on what they WANT for Christmas. So many times I'm the one asking them because I'm not sure what to buy, or what to suggest to family. Sometimes I feel like I'm raising kids too tender for this world. They understand the spiritual nature of our roles here so well.
For the record, I don't take credit for that either. They are simply amazing, even though they have the ability to completely frazzle my nerves and dance on my last shred of patience. I mean, they are children. Let's be fair.
I hope all of you can take a bit of time this crazy season to let a little truth into your hearts. That sweet manger scene isn't just a prop after all.
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
December 7
It's December 7, and all my Christmas shopping is done. Yes, I'm bragging--but only a little. I mean, last year I had book signings all month and only had time to do my Christmas shopping in the few days before the actual holiday. It. was. madness. SO glad to be done!
Of course, December 7 has a different significance. This is the day in 1941 that the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor, and our response as a nation drew us into WWII. My grandfather served in WWII. He was always a man I loved and admired--and not just because of that. He was a most remarkable man. He passed away around Christmas time, so I always have a tender spot for him this time of year.
My grandfather, Walter Charles Rohan, lived a full life. He met my grandmother--a divorced woman with three young children--while she worked as a waitress in a cafe. They began a cautious relationship until her son--my father--looked up at Walt and asked, "When are you going to marry my mother?" He was ten years old.
Walt not only married Ella, but he legally adopted all three children. They went on to have two children of their own, and built a house up on SLC's East Bench (which grandma sold for a tidy sum just before the housing market crashed).
Grandpa never distinguished his "real" children from his adopted children. They were all his. In fact, I didn't even know my dad was adopted until I was 16, at which time the family consensus was, "I thought you knew." It was one of those things the family didn't discuss, not because it was meant to be a secret but simply because it didn't matter.
Walt was a quiet man in his older years--when I knew him. As a young child, I remember he could drive, but he became legally blind and could no longer operate a car. Grandma never learned to drive. Grandpa survived cancer. Eventually his body gave in. It had become too tired to carry on. I remember when my brother called me to tell me Grandpa had passed. He cried. I cried because he cried. We knew it was for the best, that he was no longer in pain and now Grandma didn't have to care for him round the clock--but we would miss his quiet, gentle ways. His constant presence on the couch at so many family gatherings. His calming influence on those around him.
He outlived my father by twenty years. It had to have been hard to lose a son, but it wasn't something he talked about. Grandpa came from that generation that doesn't talk about those things. I miss him. I miss them both, sometimes.
Of course, December 7 has a different significance. This is the day in 1941 that the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor, and our response as a nation drew us into WWII. My grandfather served in WWII. He was always a man I loved and admired--and not just because of that. He was a most remarkable man. He passed away around Christmas time, so I always have a tender spot for him this time of year.
My grandfather, Walter Charles Rohan, lived a full life. He met my grandmother--a divorced woman with three young children--while she worked as a waitress in a cafe. They began a cautious relationship until her son--my father--looked up at Walt and asked, "When are you going to marry my mother?" He was ten years old.
Walt not only married Ella, but he legally adopted all three children. They went on to have two children of their own, and built a house up on SLC's East Bench (which grandma sold for a tidy sum just before the housing market crashed).
Grandpa never distinguished his "real" children from his adopted children. They were all his. In fact, I didn't even know my dad was adopted until I was 16, at which time the family consensus was, "I thought you knew." It was one of those things the family didn't discuss, not because it was meant to be a secret but simply because it didn't matter.
Walt was a quiet man in his older years--when I knew him. As a young child, I remember he could drive, but he became legally blind and could no longer operate a car. Grandma never learned to drive. Grandpa survived cancer. Eventually his body gave in. It had become too tired to carry on. I remember when my brother called me to tell me Grandpa had passed. He cried. I cried because he cried. We knew it was for the best, that he was no longer in pain and now Grandma didn't have to care for him round the clock--but we would miss his quiet, gentle ways. His constant presence on the couch at so many family gatherings. His calming influence on those around him.
He outlived my father by twenty years. It had to have been hard to lose a son, but it wasn't something he talked about. Grandpa came from that generation that doesn't talk about those things. I miss him. I miss them both, sometimes.
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
All I Want for Christmas
Guess what the kids all want for Christmas. Yep, Legos. Yep, even the girls. I never considered Lego to be gender-specific. As a kid, I had the Castle system sets complete with horses, knights in armor and a princess in a stupid hat. They're a bit more advanced now, with better little people and more interesting designs.
Lego is one of those toys I don't mind buying my kids, even when the sets can be stupid expensive. They LAST. My boys are playing with my old Lego sets right now. Lego encourages the imagination, which I consider vital to childhood.
Case in point:
Yesterday, hubby and I drove by a sign that said "Do not block gate." I imagined, just for kicks, setting up literal blocks in front of the gate. Obviously not to provide a barrier, but more of a play on words. Hubby took it farther than that. "I could have Brandon build a padlock out of Lego."
I laughed. Until I realized my son actually COULD build a padlock out of Lego blocks. He's gotten to the point where, if he can visualize it in his head, he can build it with his hands.
That's pretty awesome to me.
I envision a Christmas morning full of that distinct plastic-brick-on-plastic-brick clanging. And that's okay with me.
Because then I get to sit back and see what they all create. :)
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Christmas Poem
"Jesus Child"
The star shone high and bright,
in the sky above our heads.
We tried to tend our flocks,
but followed it instead.
How far it led us, we know not.
Nor do we really care.
For we'd have trod a thousand steps
to see who we saw there.
He was so small, this Son of God,
an infant child who lay
in a manger, with Mother dear
on a bed of hay.
His eyes, so bright, just like the star
that shone in Heaven above,
looked on us with approval
as we gazed at him in awe.
Others came, but we were first
this sweet child here to see.
And we knew then, deep in our hearts
our Savior he would be.
December 19, 1994
The star shone high and bright,
in the sky above our heads.
We tried to tend our flocks,
but followed it instead.
How far it led us, we know not.
Nor do we really care.
For we'd have trod a thousand steps
to see who we saw there.
He was so small, this Son of God,
an infant child who lay
in a manger, with Mother dear
on a bed of hay.
His eyes, so bright, just like the star
that shone in Heaven above,
looked on us with approval
as we gazed at him in awe.
Others came, but we were first
this sweet child here to see.
And we knew then, deep in our hearts
our Savior he would be.
December 19, 1994
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
A Simple Christmas
That's what I want. I don't want a complicated, busy, hectic Christmas.
But, here I am signing books like crazy all December--I've barely done any Christmas shopping and I have ten days before the big day.
The girls are easy to shop for. That's the greatest thing about girls. My boys, actually, aren't that complicated. The thing is, as they get older, their wants get bigger and bigger. And more expensive. Except for that $1.41 power cord my son needs for his game boy. That was awesome. :) I should have gotten two or three.
It's the time I lack. As usual. My days are full of craziness. And it's a good crazy, but it takes up all my time. It's too late to order things for the kids to be shipped here without spending tons of money I don't have anyway, so that option's out. And I tried to do some shopping for them Monday on my way home from my signing--and didn't get to bed until 2am. Not smart.
My simple Christmas idea was born partly from necessity, and partly from a desire that my kids will appreciate the true spirit of the season more if they weren't overwhelmed with toys and things they don't really need. I don't like the idea of raising greedy kids. Which is why the Nativity has been up for weeks, while we have yet to put up the tree.
The necessity aspect of it is simply that we have no space to store anything. The kids' rooms are full of stuff. We have needs--like a new washer and dryer, or a new couch, or new mattresses for the kids--but we don't have a budget for that.
So I have to be smart. And savvy. And creative. Good thing God is on my side, or I'd never make it. :)
But, here I am signing books like crazy all December--I've barely done any Christmas shopping and I have ten days before the big day.
The girls are easy to shop for. That's the greatest thing about girls. My boys, actually, aren't that complicated. The thing is, as they get older, their wants get bigger and bigger. And more expensive. Except for that $1.41 power cord my son needs for his game boy. That was awesome. :) I should have gotten two or three.
It's the time I lack. As usual. My days are full of craziness. And it's a good crazy, but it takes up all my time. It's too late to order things for the kids to be shipped here without spending tons of money I don't have anyway, so that option's out. And I tried to do some shopping for them Monday on my way home from my signing--and didn't get to bed until 2am. Not smart.
My simple Christmas idea was born partly from necessity, and partly from a desire that my kids will appreciate the true spirit of the season more if they weren't overwhelmed with toys and things they don't really need. I don't like the idea of raising greedy kids. Which is why the Nativity has been up for weeks, while we have yet to put up the tree.
The necessity aspect of it is simply that we have no space to store anything. The kids' rooms are full of stuff. We have needs--like a new washer and dryer, or a new couch, or new mattresses for the kids--but we don't have a budget for that.
So I have to be smart. And savvy. And creative. Good thing God is on my side, or I'd never make it. :)
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Merry Christmas to All!
Recently my husband, who works security at the airport, came across an interesting passenger flying out of Salt Lake City. As he stood at his post, items came along the moving belt that captured his notice. First a wide black belt, with a large, ornate buckle. Then a pair of tall, black boots. And last, a large red coat trimmed with white fur. The owner of these items had a bushy white beard and a twinkle in his eye.
It is difficult for children to believe in Santa. It seems like they lose their belief at a younger age now then in years past. Each one of my children has said this year that kids at school tell them Santa Claus does not exist, and my youngest is in kindergarten! But my children still believe. They believe in a generous heart, they believe in doing good works. They believe in being kind to others.
There is no harm in Santa Claus. The harm comes when we put receiving above giving, when we let ourselves get caught up in the next big gift item and make the packages under the tree more important than the true reason we celebrate Christmas in the first place. Essentially, it’s a matter of choice.
Last Sunday, on the way to church, one of my children announced he would like to do more Christmas shopping—just for fun. I pointed out that people seldom shop this time of year for fun; it’s fast becoming an Olympic worthy sport. So we talked about the shopping they had already done, and I reminded each of them Christmas is not about the gifts. “Why do we celebrate Christmas?” I asked. “Jesus’ birthday!” they chorused.
I believe in Santa. But I also believe he has many helpers all over the world who catch things one lone man may miss. After all, the spirit of service essentially means we look after one another—if our Heavenly Father and his Son are pleased by our assisting each other, surely Santa Claus can benefit from our sharing of the true spirit of Christmas. We are each a little warmer of heart when we consider the needs or wants of others, even in the smallest of ways.
And who’s to say Santa didn’t take a quick stop in Salt Lake City this year on his way back from vacation? My family and I would like to wish you all a joyous and generous holiday season.
Much love,
Cheri Chesley and Family
It is difficult for children to believe in Santa. It seems like they lose their belief at a younger age now then in years past. Each one of my children has said this year that kids at school tell them Santa Claus does not exist, and my youngest is in kindergarten! But my children still believe. They believe in a generous heart, they believe in doing good works. They believe in being kind to others.
There is no harm in Santa Claus. The harm comes when we put receiving above giving, when we let ourselves get caught up in the next big gift item and make the packages under the tree more important than the true reason we celebrate Christmas in the first place. Essentially, it’s a matter of choice.
Last Sunday, on the way to church, one of my children announced he would like to do more Christmas shopping—just for fun. I pointed out that people seldom shop this time of year for fun; it’s fast becoming an Olympic worthy sport. So we talked about the shopping they had already done, and I reminded each of them Christmas is not about the gifts. “Why do we celebrate Christmas?” I asked. “Jesus’ birthday!” they chorused.
I believe in Santa. But I also believe he has many helpers all over the world who catch things one lone man may miss. After all, the spirit of service essentially means we look after one another—if our Heavenly Father and his Son are pleased by our assisting each other, surely Santa Claus can benefit from our sharing of the true spirit of Christmas. We are each a little warmer of heart when we consider the needs or wants of others, even in the smallest of ways.
And who’s to say Santa didn’t take a quick stop in Salt Lake City this year on his way back from vacation? My family and I would like to wish you all a joyous and generous holiday season.
Much love,
Cheri Chesley and Family
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