Revelation

You know the girl from school for whom everything was so ridiculously easy? Maybe she and you went to grade school together and then she followed you to high school and the easy-peasy lemon-squeezy shuffle continued for her and you just looked askance, Really? She's allowed to have the grades and the car and the friends and even the locker that is not next to the door that always swings open right into your backpack eleven times before first bell? And she always skates by on charm, always has a hottie date to the dance, always sort of looks right through you as she waves to one of her higher ranking fanclub members NO YOU MAY NOT. Well I saw her the other night. Went up to her and said hi, and Merry Christmas and can you believe this restaurant is closing for good?

And you know what?

She was so nice. And so mannerly and so genuinely kind. She had gained some weight and who hasn't since high school? But the only reason I bring it up is because I felt as though the Old Kendra would have been all doing the cabbage patch dance I'M NOT THE FAT ONE THIS TIME I'M NOT THE FAT ONE whereas the New Kendra can be happy that we both can be happy for one another. Which I was.

And I feel very much as though I got to the end of the Willy Wonka Chocolate Factory Tour and I just handed the everlasting gobstopper sample back to Willy, honest gal that I am, and he takes me by the hand and then presses his hands to my cheeks and says, "My girl! You've won! You've won You've won You've WON OH MY GIRL, YOU HAVE WON!"

I really have. I have hit the grand jackpot. Knowing what I know, that the contest is over, that the prize of popularity is hollow and turns brass. That if you can come out of the whole gauntlet of grade school and the small ring of hell that was high school with a sense of gratitude for all that you learned and a sense of generosity for all the good things that have come to others--then you, too, have won.

So. How were your holidays?

*** These two. They share so much, they steal everything from the other. But mostly they share laughs. And mostly they steal kisses.

Prrrrresents!

My in-laws bought Baby Girl a sled that said LUCKY BUMS in very large letters where the bum sits before it goes flying Chevy Chase style.

Having a deep and meaningful with Frosty.

Being a helicopter parent at the bounce house

Loverpants has been taking this very photo on this very couch with this very dear friend Marissa since way back. But this was the first time Auntie M got to meet her niece and nephew, so it was a special photoshoot indeed.

Uncle Joe double-fisting his babies. Little Man distracted.

Christmas Day, readyin' up for church

Shalomin' with our homeys, celebrating our friend Jukes' birthday on Christmas day

Santa's elf

Trip to Cleveland Metroparks Zoo. Cold day. Furry animals. Twas awesome.

Understood

I wasn't sure if you'd participate

You are what they call a "joiner"

usually

But this morning you were resistant.

When I saw you taking position

up on the second step,

I understood.

In the midst of your gesturing

Palms cupping each other

Forming that pillow for your leaning head

You sang about that little Lord Jesus

who also laid down his sweet head

You looked out into the murky mass of grown-ups

to see me, holding another little baby,

Your face suddenly beamed with recognition.

And because you are mine

I not only read your lips but heard your little voice

ceasing your song to announce

MOMMY, I'M SINGING!!

and I understood what it was

to see the brightest star in the sky

and follow it

to be visited by an angel

and listen, stunned, not sure if a piece of divinity had come down

for a moment

and touched this earth.

Why We Don't Do Santa

This is the post where you decide that the person named Kendra you thought you really liked is actually a complete communist nutter and you should not only stop reading her blog but stop associating with her altogether. Some people have recently asked if Baby Girl is excited for Santa to come. My response on the spot is, "Nah, not really, we don't make a big deal out of the whole Santa thing."

But my more expansive response is: "Nah, not really, we don't make a big deal out of the whole Santa thing."

Ahhh. It's all so unbelievably clarion now, right?

No, seriously, this was a very hard decision. Growing up, my old man Big Pops lived in a state of mania from October 31 to January 1. The man loves holidays, birthdays, and is particularly hysterical about Christmas. Big Pops has not outgrown this hysteria.

Exhibit A: Exhibit B:

In fact, with the addition of grandchildren, I receive daily texts about imminent Christmas specials on ABC and reminders to send him my wish list. Because the statute of limitation for your holiday wish list apparently extends to one even when she is 30 years-old.

So as far as families in which to grow up, I pretty much hit the Santa jackpot. So why would I not want to carry on this tradition for my own wee elfin ones?

Here's the thing. I'm not opposed to the lore of Santa, of presents, of surprises on Christmas morn. But I have two chief goals as a parent, and they are: 1. To lead my children to Christ and 2. To always tell them the truth. Period.

I value these objectives more than anything, I feel the weight of them, I carry them as a burden. I don't see how I can point my children to Christ, Christ who knows their inner thoughts and the intimations of their very hearts, if for a portion of the year, I am cautioning them that "Santa is watching..." I want them to know that Christ is always watching, but not in a way that determines a temporary reward, but with great interest for their eternal reward.

I also have a deep conviction for telling my children the truth. I would definitely say that for a good portion of my life, I had a problem with lying. I have lied to my parents, to the dearest of friends, to bosses, to myself. I was such a crafty liar that at times, I think I began to believe my own lies. Becoming a Christian for me has meant to put an end to dishonesty. To really come before God and be honest about my shortcomings and know how ugly it is to lie, and how beautiful and courageous it can be to tell the truth. I never realized how many opportunities there are to lie to children. When I was trying to ween my daughter off of her pacifier, everyone encouraged me to tell her about the "Binkie Fairy" that took the pacifiers to children in need. It was a surefire way to rid child of the binks. I was determined not to lie, though, and the process was surely painful (see also: How to Lose Your Mind in 9 Days) but for me it would have been more painful had I invented some fantastic tale, and for me, I could see how it would just become a slippery slope every time I needed to get my kids on board with something.

I have no judgment of parents who do the Santa thing with their children. As I mentioned, I reaped the rich benefits of a Santa-crazed upbringing. But I feel this is the right decision for our family. Our children will receive plenty of presents and enjoy many surprises in their lives I am sure. And we will tell them from where they came. I suppose some may say that I'm building an awfully tall soapbox while my children are still so young, but the view looks pretty good from here, so if you need me, this is where I'll be.

Christmas 2008

Christmas 2009

Christmas 2010