Our house looks like a bomb hit it. Like if someone rang our doorbell right now, I’d shout for everyone to freeze and lay down and pretend we’re not home.

But here I am, amidst wrapping paper and boxes and quilts from abandoned forts strewn on the floor, cupping my favorite gift–a hand-painted pottery mug from my girl–and I am so entirely fulfilled.

The winds have shifted, drawing the northern chill down to our warm town, and I am looking forward to the coming days of home and family and possibly cleaning up the mess.

But, in this place right now, after staying up ’til 2:30 Christmas Eve to braid the bread that ended up rising out of control while we slept…

…after finishing a wrapping ceremony that began with perfectly cut paper, satin ribbon bows and caligraphy tags and ended with jagged edges, half-ass taping and some crappy labels with “To” and “From” sloppily scribbled across the top…

…after all the work and far-fetched imagination that goes into this thing, it is so entirely worth it.

We celebrate birthdays for everyone in our home. We make big deals over each year in their lives and blow out candles, eat cake and make them feel like superstars for evolving into more fabulousness each year. And I guess Christmas for us is kind of a birthday for our family. Not to take the Christ out of Christmas–Believe me, I know what it’s about and have enough “Oh, Holy Night”s and manger reenactments from over the years to prove it.

But it seems fitting for all the effort of making moments on this day that we celebrate this last year together and feel like superstars for evolving into more fabulousness. We’ve come a long way, Baby.

Left: Christmas Eve night, 2009; Right: Christmas Eve night, 2010.

Our family celebration this year seemed to take all those feelings I have about this past year and did them right.

A nice chunk of our village showed up the night before Christmas Eve for our fourth annual Hot Cocoa Wagon Walk. What’s a Hot Cocoa Wagon Walk, you ask? You decorate a wagon, you make cocoa, you hoist a boombox blaring Burl Ives on your shoulder, and you walk through the neighborhood, knocking on doors passing out the goodness of hot drinks and off-key renditions of songs no one knows the words to.

Oh, and you dance. In the streets.

That’s Nana Kate, skippin’ a little jig.

For lacking family this year, we totally made up for it in loving the village of good souls on our street. I hate calling them “neighbors” because that’s trite and anything but what they are. They are our friends and our family, and you wouldn’t have known the difference Christmas Eve when the girls blended inconspicuously with Nana Kate’s grandkids.

We’ve always gone to the candlelight service at a church a few miles away for Christmas Eve but found out a few hours before we were going to head out, there was no service this year. So, we made one up. And it was even better. Lainey made up songs and forced us to sing them and yelled at us when we got the words wrong. My favorite went something like “Happy Christmas everyone loves Santa merry jingle bells my family I love you.”

Brett made a runway this year for the reindeer. A nice twinkly light guide for their hooves (hooves…that sounds funny. Hooves? Hoofs? Who makes these words up anyway?), and Lainey filled it in with carrots and pre-made reindeer food.

I gained new smile wrinkles that night. And had another insane moment where these memory receptors are firing like crazy in my brain, and I’m very well aware that I will forever remember this exact moment. The way their polka dot jammies hug their bodies, the intent look on Lainey’s face as she lines up the carrots just right, the way Brett is nonchalantly talking with the neighbor but by the way he’s nodding and smiling I can tell he’s only half-listening because he’s more consumed with keeping Nella’s hat on her ears and making sure she’s cradled properly in his arms.

And after putting kids to sleep and several more hours of preparations, I woke up the next morning to hums and coos and rolled over to see two soulful eyes in the dark and a little “Hi, Mom” face. It was an appropriate greeting for my first “Merry Christmas” of the day.

The rest followed suit.

Checking out the reindeer proof and snowy hoof prints.

Remember this fashion plate toy? I had one as a kid and didn’t know they still made them. Lainey loves it.

And Lainey’s gift from Santa was a hit.

…and not just for Lainey either.

If you haven’t noticed, I’m a sentimentalist. I know not everyone likes Christmas, and it can be a painful time for those who have experienced hurt and have difficulty defining the distinction between reality and idealism and all the blur in between. But the pain of life always makes the good stand out even more…like water rising above the oil.

We’ve cried this year. We’ve complained and cursed and cleaned up messes, just like everyone else. There are scuffs on our walls and bruises on our heart. But, in the end, there is good. And we know when to celebrate, and celebrate we do.

So, last night as neighbors gathered for a fireworks show (thank you, Brekke) and I watched the interactions of every one of my blessed family members, I stopped the inner dialogue of defining that fine line of reality and idealism, and I settled into the moment. Because what was happening in our driveway was very real indeed. And it was good.

This was my very favorite Christmas yet. Not because it was perfect, but because it was real and good and comfortable.

And all the efforts we put into this grand celebration…it was worth it. Every bit of it. Merry Day-after Christmas.

Celebrating our new sponsor, MeYou Health. I’ve talked about them HERE with their daily challenge, and it’s a perfect time with New Year’s resolutions to join. Basically, it’s a fun, easy way to be more mindful of a healthy lifestyle, and you can sign up through Facebook. Costs you nothing.

Hoping everyone had a meaningful holiday, and wishing you more happy moments this week.

Tonight I wheeled the bassinet out into the living room so the little bunny will stay asleep for longer than fifteen minutes. She needs to be by me. She needs her back patted when she stirs. And so tonight I willingly oblige, patting and rubbing that little dip at the bottom of her back right above her diaper when she whimpers. I wait until she’s still and then resume the typing.

Her profile is glowing from the light of the computer, one jammied leg is slung over the edge of the bed, and I can hear her wheezy breath, quick and rhythmic…in and out, in and out, in and out.

I’m generally pretty laid back. Fits and messes don’t seem to bother me, and I happen to like a mini van that smells like last week’s happy meal. But, oh when they’re sick. Dude, it’s rough. I can’t fix it and that sucks. Even my mama jiggle–that little dance I do, clinging little bodies to my chest and wiggling the little jig that always settles and soothes them–it lost its charm.

Both girls have been pretty under the weather for several days now. There are piles of crusty tissues stuffed between cushions and heaped on counters, and I’m low on sleep and high on Vicks vapors. My babies are sick. Their eyes are heavy, their cheeks are peaked, and their sing-song chatter has dwindled to raspy whimpers. Brett and I are running the Gauntlet. Oh, you should see the pre-bed ritual. There’s squeegy-ing of noses and steam baths and Vicks chest-rubs, setting up the sippy cups for midnight whimpers and plugging in the vaporizers. There’s quilt-tucking, back-rubbing, and cough-suppressing until one of ’em finally falls asleep and when she does, oh sweet victory…even if it only lasts an hour. It’s an ugly cold that, hopefully, is on its way out.

But don’t think for a second we let it win. Because Christmas trumps colds.

Oh, the tree. The blessed Christmas tree and the ceremony that grows richer every year thanks to little souls that prance around the room, dragging garland, making messes, unraveling tissue-wrapped ornaments and asking questions about every single one.

We Christmas-tized every last corner of the house while the little time-capsule part of my brain simultaneously gathered memories and stashed, continually making comparisons through all of it…Last year, my belly was *this* big. Last year, I dreamed of what this year would look like. Last year, I had no idea how complete this baby would truly make us.

Lainey’s favorite ornament (PersonalizedFree), placed appropriately at her eye-level so she can point it out to everyone.

I never really thought through how we do Christmas until I had kids. And when you have kids, everything shifts. You’re not just someone’s kid anymore, following through with the traditions your own parents started. You’re the mom. The matriarch. You hold the Holiday Torch–the powerful seed of tradition–in the palm of your hand. Everything your child remembers about these months stems from you. Wow. That’s a lot of power.

I’ve thought about it a lot. I want my kids to know about other celebrations and to respect them, maybe even celebrate them. But I also want to preserve the magic of everything my parents did for us this time of year. We did Christmas in the balls-to-the-walls kind of way. Not so much in presents and money, but in feeling. There was music and candles and lights, scents and sounds and talked-about hype. I’ll never forget the excitement and comfort and hominess I felt through all their efforts…big shoes to fill, Man.

So, we try to do it up pretty good.

Like…”Hey Look! Snow in Florida!” Also known as “Hey Look! These parents take it a little too far.”

Needless to say, there was much tree gazing this weekend…

…and Mr. Griswold had his way with the staple gun.

Seriously though, I’m three days now with very little sleep and my rallying skills aren’t so sharp.

We’re taking a little family trip this week. More to come.

But, in the meantime…

Super stoked about new art in my home. The best part? It’s my brother’s. Check out my cute talented brother, the artist.

And our TWO giveaway winners!

Winner of the Silhouette Cutter: Commenter #195, Hillary: happy thanksgiving to you and the family! we’re so thankful for our surprise 4th baby on the way!! and the other healthy, happy 3 that are here with us. can’t wait till lunch for some southern cornbread dressing, and chocolate pie!!

and

Winner of the Sticks and Stones Keepsake piece: Commenter #224, Amy: Love the alphabet art (and “like” it on FB)! Where is the half-full glass from??? I NEED one! 🙂

(oh, and the glass if from Z Gallerie for all who asked)

Congratulations to both winners. Please e-mail your contact info to [email protected], and we’ll have your gifts to you asap!

And anyone interested in the Silhouette products, use the promotion code KELLE at checkout for even greater savings.

Also, sponsor Pip & Bean capes is offering 15% off right now…use Code “pipblackfriday2010.” Discount ends Monday at midnight Pacific Standard Time.

Baby is stirring…

The holiday isn’t over…it’s just beginning. Fa la la la freakin’ la!