I think our bio kids are tired - it has been 3 Christmas interrupted with adoption stuff.
They remember the Christmas's we used to have, hoards of presents - every new item imaginable. Not because we were wealthy but because we spent all year saving up and shopping sales. We always also adopted a family we gave to - it was our excuse to feel better about our blessings.
Then we traveled over 2 holidays and last year was just a disaster.
So I sat here trying to make it up to them, buying, buying, volunteering, spending.
And then it hit me the other night as we drove through town, sipping our starbucks treat and looking at the lights. It's the little things, the wonder, the experience, the proof there is still hope in this world.
So we cherished each gasp from our 4 year old as the lights flashed and twinkled. We paired that with explanations of how it worked for our newly home 12 year old. Children all through the car shouting look, look here.
Seven children and 16 years of parenting have softened me to a degree.
This old controlling mom would never have caved and not only made gingerbread play dough from scratch BUT ran all over town so they had play dough rollers and tools so they could finally play with it at home! Our double 12 year olds playing along side the baby - playing and creating, running to show me their newest project.
It's our 16 year old helping at the preschool party - making his own gingerbread cookie. The gifts may be different but I have to believe that these are the things that he will carry with him as he enters the world.
Going anywhere during the holidays can be crazy but the world seems to slow just a tiny bit as we walk past, people stop to smile at our deeply dimpled joy, our tiny princess and the rest of the clan. We pray that as they see our children they remember that God uses the broken to do his work. That He reaches into the farthest corners of the world and brings hope.