The most wonderful time of the year.

The following took place Tuesday, December 10th in the home of Nathan and Kendra Corrona.  It was a stunning display of holiday cheer.

4:00pm Girls are home from school.  No homework. Everybody is excited about the prospects of the evening.

4:15pm Nate and I decide it is the perfect time to get the Christmas tree (he had been out of town so we had yet to purchase one and the pickings were getting slim.)  Children jump and shout at the news. There was even a squeal or two.  It was decided we would leave in 15 minutes.

4:20pm Nate and I begin rearranging the furniture to make room for the tree.  For 5 of the 6 years we have been in this house it has gone by the front window. This seems to be the best place for it again this year and so room is being made for the tree.  Cue Zaine.

4:25pm Zaine enters room and is instantly horrified about where we are putting the tree.  We cannot put the tree there.  Tears. She doesnt want the tree there. More tears. Doesn't her opinion matter? Cue sobs. Zaine throws herself dramatically on the couch, overcome by our lack of understanding.

4:27pm Zaine is sent to her room to gain some self control and perspective.  Sobs are heard coming from her bedroom along with a pretty impressive conversation with herself on how Christmas has been ruined. In the end she successfully convinces herself she is right, the placement of the tree has brought an end to all Christmas joy.  More sobs as she realizes it is all her parents' fault, and she is doomed to live at least 11 more years in a house with adults who havent a clue about the important things in life like the demands of a 7 year old.

4:35pm Cue Lux.  She decides this is the perfect time to discuss the most important thing on her 10 year old mind, the 5th grade chorus singing at the Gladiators hockey game. Discussion ends when she reaches the same conclusion as her sister, she is doomed to live at least 8 more years in a house with adults who have no idea what it is like to be a kid. All they care about is doing things together as a family.  Oh, and these same parents like her sister better than her, and she knows it.

Nate and I begin to wonder where we went wrong..

4:45pm Zaine's return.  She is no longer sobbing. She surveys the room and declares with a deep breath that she will be opening her Christmas presents elsewhere because it is physically impossible for her to be in the same room with the tree in that spot.  She loves us and wants to be with us, but we have made our decision and she sees it is useless to continue trying to convince us otherwise.  So with that, can she please have a snack?

5:00pm a disheveled, tear stained, mess of Corronas load into the van in an attempt to salvage what is left of the evening and get the stupid tree. Nate's joy is evident in his herky jerky driving and lack of ability to find a single station playing Christmas music, though he continues to try.  Lux is getting in the spirit by painting her nails and sulking, and I am fulfilling my duties as the backseat driver, offering Nate my opinions on the best route to take thru traffic to Lowes. Lux realizes we are going to Lowes. From backseat, "Are we seriously getting out tree at Lowes?"

Nate has had it, pulls car over and institutes a $1.00 fine for any complaining here on out. He is thoroughly disappointed in our children's behavior.  We are trying to raise grateful kids who think of others before themselves. Not complainers who are dissatisfied with anything that doesnt go their way. Zaine, clearly not understanding what constitutes as complaining, complains, "Can we just go now?" I snort. Lux points out that that was obviously a complaint and Zaine should be fined. Zaine adamantly declares she has no idea what she said wrong. Thus begins a detailed discussion on what counts as complaining from now on.

5:15pm we arrive at Lowes high on fingernail polish fumes. Lux asks me to hang back so we can continue discussing Nate's and my lack of understanding about her Gladiator needs and the $1.00 fine for complaining. I try to lighten things up by pointing out that the guy loading trees on cars happens to look a lot like Santa. "That's not Santa," she deadpans back to me. Zaine, on the other hand, is fascinated at the prospect of Santa loading our tree, and skips merrily ahead to march in with dad. She's excited.  Every tree is to her a "must have."

Fun times at Lowes

5:30pm tree is found, Lux and I head to van to pull it around.  Santa will be loading our tree, but he appears to be a bit too thorough.  Santa takes for ever. Not sure if he is checking to see who's naughty or nice, or just getting slow in his old age. At one point Santa cuts the rope and starts over. Santa needs to stick with his day job.

5:50pm we are home. Time for the annual "where is the tree stand?" hunt.  Stand is found on high shelf in garage.

6:15pm Im on my belly tightening tree stand screws and barking out directions to Nate, who is holding the tree. I decide I am getting too old for this sort of thing. Tree seems secure and I emerge from the pine needles to start dinner.

6:20pm Zaine is crying for help.  We find her in the living room holding the tree that has fallen on her. Tree was not secure. Zaine is uninjured but shaken and impressed with her skills for catching a falling tree. This time Nate goes under while I take direction. Tree is officially secure.

6:30pm dinner

7:30pm Happy Nate has officially left the building.  Though he valiantly tried, he has never recovered from the drama that took place earlier in the evening. Plus he seems to be getting a cold. Nate lays on couch with blanket. This will be his contribution to tree decorating and the rest of the evening.

7:40pm Christmas music is on.  Nate is lying on couch with blanket.  Lux is painting her nails (again?). Zaine, my biggest fan and right hand girl, is determined to help me get lights on the tree. Me? I am secretly plotting in my heart how to pay Nate back for bailing on me....

7:50pm Lux decides to join us. Girls begin bickering about how to hang bulbs.  First bulb is broken.

7:55pm Zaine begins doing gymnastics over couch.

8:00pm Someone realizes it is time for Survivor. Nate suddenly awakens. Music stops and tv is on. I continue decorating the tree alone to the holiday sounds of Survivor's theme music.

8:30pm I give in and join the family on the couch.  Another successful Corrona tree trimming ceremony comes to an end.

9:00pm girls head to bed. I finally relax on couch with Nate.

9:15pm Zaine is back. Her stomach hurts. She thinks she might throw up. She is crying. Im up and moving. Lux appears. Do we want to hear her 50 facts about herself she just created? Not a great time. Please go to bed, Zaine doesnt feel well. Lux is convinced once again that we like Zaine better. Why dont we want to hear her 50 facts? Nate feigns sleep.

9:30pm Zaine is in my bed with a bowl.  Lux has gone to bed angry with me.  Nate hasn't spoken since 8:30 and is still asleep? on the couch.  I am exhausted.  Christmas memories made.

What a strange and lovely thing it is to be a family.

I am a hermit crab.

We have these two hermit crabs that the girls just had to have. We got them just after school started and I think the girls loved them for about 2 1/2 days before forgetting about them entirely.  Between the cost of the crabs, the appropriate tank, the special hermit crab sand, etc, i think i spent over $40 for them. For crabs that no one pays attention to.  Except me.  Yes, I have become the designated hermit crab caretaker.  And this is my own fault.  Because I actually care more for the crabs than the rest of the family.  I have concern for their well being.  I have been completely sucked into the hermit crab world.
Part of my morning routine is to feed the cats, (the stray cats that live under our porch...the cats that continue having kittens because I keep feeding them and their kittens...the cats that i pretend are not ours but I build winter shelters for to shield them from the cold...the cats we have affectionately named Mommacat, Tinsel, Baby Boy, Cottonball, and Daddycat. Im beginning to see a pattern here with the cats and hermit crabs...), feed the kids, and then tend to the hermit crabs.  By "tend to" I mean remove the protective towels that I cover their shelter with during the cold nights to keep help keep them warm, and turn on the 40w lamp the pet store guy said they needed.  Nate is both fascinated and dumbfounded by this.  I think he wonders what he got himself into marrying me.  Well, I wonder the same thing when he goes weeks without putting the toilet paper roll on the spinner and just leaves it in odd spots around the bathroom.  I mean, you are sitting right beside the thing! Im both fascinated and dumbfounded by this. These are the things that keep a marriage interesting, my friends.

So yesterday was the day I had to change out the hermit crab sand, food, and water.  This is pretty exciting because we never see the hermit crabs move.  They never move.  Unless they are put in a new environment in which case they desperately drag those shells around searching for a new place to hide. And they were up to their usual antics, walking circles around the edge of the container searching for a way out.  I think Zaine peeked in on them once and asked "Are they still alive?" And Lux looked up from the iPad long enough to acknowledge their existence. And it was in that moment that it occurred to me, "I am a hermit crab."

Ok, Im not really a hermit crab. But I totally relate to them on a human to crab level. I am an introvert.  I, too, am cozy and comfortable in my little spot in this world until something big changes things up and I am stuck desperately clawing at the walls, dragging my big, clunky mess of baggage along behind me as I search for a way out of this new situation.  I, too, prefer to stay hidden under the safety of the plastic leaves suction cupped to the wall of my existence.  I, too, often live in fear of all that is out there in the world beyond my safety zone, and tentatively peek my tiny eyeballs cautiously out from under my shell.

But I am also like the hermit crabs (stay with me...) in that I have a great big God who is making the sun shine every morning, and tucking me in each night.  He's shaking things up when I need to stretch myself out of my shell, and He has always provided for my every need.  That great big hand in the sky that reaches down and lifts me out of my comfort zone to challenge me to move.  So I will move, even if it is with reluctance and sometimes with fear, I will move.  Because He sees beyond my 4 walls, and He does these things because He cares.

Parenting

So Nate and I had a sit down this morning to discuss our parenting strategies.  I dont know about your family but it seems every 6 months or so we have "new" children we are dealing with.  Zaine gets the better end of the deal because she's the youngest and we have dealt with similar situations before with Lux.  And although they are very different, there is always that little "oh yeah.." moment when we can recall some old methods that worked before.  Poor Lux doesnt have that luxury.  And this tween thing is killing me.  Im not kidding.  Im totally thrown for a loop.  So between Zaine being completely different from her sister, and Lux breaking new ground, Nate and I are often wondering what we got ourselves into.

Dont get me wrong.  We have two great girls.  At least in public.  No, but really, they are two great girls.  With great (BIG) personalities.  And strong opinions.  About everything. But they are great girls!  With wonderfully complicated emotions.  Rapidly changing wonderfully complicated emotions. Emotions that can cover the full spectrum from happy to mad with just one wrong word from me.  Or wrong look.  Or wrong chuckle.  Or no chuckle at all.  Basically, however I respond seems to be wrong. At least with the tween.  The little one still thinks I hung the moon.  The older blames me that it isnt full tonight.

Nate, on the other hand, still has full credibility.  He's got a ticket on the Love Boat (read with sarcasm). He's Mr. Cool.  Mr. "Im a barrel of laughs."  Mr. "I can say the same thing as mom and get a totally awesome response." It truly is fascinating. In fact, I have found that if I go to him with my requests for the kids, he can get them to do most anything.  Im so jealous, but so thankful someone is still respected around here. (cue violins for "poor mom" song.)

So because of all of this odd drama; because of all of these changing behaviors and our inexperience in dealing with them, we have found we have developed some ridiculous coping mechanisms we fall back on when we arent sure what else to do. Secretly we tease each other about this...

The Loud Clap is what Nate often resorts to when he senses a lack of control.  This can also be accompanied with a shout of names that correspond in time to the clap, increasing the number of claps.  For example "Lux and Zaine!" would be "Clap Clap Clap!" Sometimes a bug eyed look also accompanies this response.  We laughed about that one this morning.  I, however, will forever be remembered for Helicopter Arms, which were used in a time of desperation while traveling with the girls this past summer.  It was bedtime and they had to share a room and doggonit,they would not quit bickering.  I could hear them behind that door, picking at each other.  It had been a long trip without Nate, and I had had it.  I had already spoken with them several times and they just kept at it.  So I lost my mind.  Mom plain. lost. her. marbles. I dont remember exactly what was said, but I do remember my arms beginning to move in a circular motion, like propellers, beating against the end of the bed in frustration.  I remember the children staring at me, stunned, with looks of disbelief and wonder in their eyes. And I remember thinking I would not be proud of this the next morning, and I would probably be addressing their questions about my behavior shortly.  And that is exactly what happened.  And we talked about how mom's arms were flying.  And we called them "helicopter arms." And we laughed at how silly mom can be when she's frustrated. And we all went to sleep exhausted, but no longer bickering.

Parenting is hard.  When something finally gets easier, another wrench is thrown in the wheel.  And I will admit that I am at a loss half the time with how to handle things.  I am treading water, people.  I am just waiting for the whistle at the end of the day telling me I can rest for a bit.  Then the next morning it is back in the water.  But one way we are making it through is together.  We might have a mess of a day, but in the end we thank the Lord we are together.  A family.  A crazy mess of emotions facing the unknown, but getting through it together.

To Fly

My little girl is growing up.  Well, they both are...but I speak specifically of my oldest, who is 10. Going on 15.  Leaping with all her might into the next phase of life while I try to grasp at her heels and slow her down.  But she is fast.  She no longer desires to be held tight in my safety net.  She wants to fly.

There was a time when my love and care were of utmost importance to her.  She needed me.  She needed me so much more than she does these days.  I was once a star shining brightly in her world.  Her eyes would follow my every move.  Her mouth would speak to me words of adoration.  Her desire was to spend her time with me. Now her sky is filled with stars, and many burn so brightly that at times I wonder if I am still seen, if I am still as captivating to her as I was in the early years.  And truthfully, I know that I am not.  And that is hard to know.  My failures and flaws are becoming more and more evident the older she gets.  Her eyes are now often filled with question, and her words are not always as easy to hear.

I am learning to let go.  I am learning to step back and watch from the sidelines.  I am learning to let her become someone apart from me.  Different than me. I am carefully and cautiously releasing my grip.  I am trusting that the God of the universe has still got His loving hand on her.  I am choosing to do this for her sake. And for mine.  I am letting her fly.

My Yeti

Sometimes people ask me how Nate and I ended up together.  Not in a "how did you two meet?" kinda way, but in a "what brought the two of you together? you are so....different..." sort of way. And sometimes, and I know Nate would agree, we even wonder the same thing to ourselves. We really are quite different.  I am more of a morning person, he stays up late into the night.  I am a pile maker, and cant put things away until I know there is a proper place for them (which can drive him crazy); while Nate is a "tidier" who likes to "make things disappear" by hiding them away in drawers. So we can never find them.  Nate is easy going, and mellow, and even tempered, while I could be described as "spirited" or even a bit, ahem, "emotional" (at least that's what I have heard...). I wear my heart on my sleeve, so to speak.

Nate lovingly refers to my style of driving as "barreling" while I think he is a dawdler...a "side window-looker-outer"...one who is easily distracted by things in people's yards....or other cars...or conversation...!  He prefers the basement cave, which he keeps at a crisp 15* below 0 (so cold I get a jacket before I go down to visit him) (seriously I think I saw my breath downstairs on my last visit), while I prefer the main level temperature which Nate likes to call "tropical." His car is nice and clean, emptied of all children's items and trash after each trip.  My car at last count had 3 pairs of shoes, 2 folding chairs, 4 stadium chairs, 3 tennis rackets, a bag for Goodwill, 400 barrettes/bobby pins/hair bands, 4 water cups from various restaurants, lots of crumbs, some sort of lip gloss wiped on the back door, and an old apple rolling around on the floor.

Oh, and dont even get me started on our medical differences.  I am a regular doctor visitor.  I go. Whenever needed. I take various kinds of medicine that I need to live a regular life, so this forces me to participate in routine doctor visits. Nate, on the other hand, cut his foot last summer and walked around on it for 3 months before realizing, one evening while watching tv, that there was a 1/2 inch PIECE OF GLASS poking out of the cut!! Thankfully it hadnt become infected! He is the guy who comes home bleeding and has no idea how it happened, and doesnt even bother to bandaid it.  He has the stomach of an ox.  I have the stomach of a colicky baby.

But aside from these and other obvious differences (he is much more hairy, has been compared to a Polar Bear or Yeti; I am much paler and frailer, and could be compared to, say, a tiger cub) we work. I somehow fit perfectly in that crook under his arm when he snuggles me in.  And we get each other. His aim is to have fun getting there, my aim is to get there then hopefully have fun. And this balances us. He reminds me to enjoy the small things, to live in the moment, and to cherish the quirky family that we are.  I pop the dream balloons and bring us all back to earth so we can actually get where we are going, and be somewhat respectably clothed and cared for along the way. He's the sunshine and I am the rain (which is also very necessary to keep things growing, right? :). Im the business in the front and he's the party in the back. Im the apple, he's the Twinkie.  He's the Golden Retriever and Im the German Shepherd (on task?) or maybe the nervous little Italian Greyhound with the sweater...always shivering and cold. The point is for some crazy reason I love that guy.  And for an even crazier reason, he loves me.

Something Good

If you have time this week and would like to do some investing in your marriage, check out this message by one of my favorite pastors, Greg Laurie.  In fact, check out any of his sermons!  But I especially enjoyed this one this morning.

And Again

I am going to start writing again.  I am making myself write again.  Because I want to, and I love to, and I miss it.  I have a tendency in my life to give up on things when I start to lack confidence.  I question why I am doing it and then what is the purpose of it and then tell myself various reasons no one needs to hear what I am saying.  And then slowly but surely I come up with enough excuses that I quit.  I am not proud of this behavior, and it is something that needs to change.  I have reached my 40's and realized there are plenty of things I wish I had stuck with.  Dreams I wish I'd gone for.  Goals that were never achieved.  And most of the time it is because of my own lack of confidence.

I think this realization strikes me the most when we are talking together as a family and the girls begin pointing out each of our accomplishments, or interests.  Somehow when we get to Mom, they arent sure what to say.  "Dad makes art and videos!" "Lux loves to draw and write!" "Zaine is a gymnast and always full of energy."  "And mom....mom, what do you do? Mom is a mom and does mom things! She likes to go shopping! Oh, and she washes dishes! Mom likes to sit in her pj's and watch t.v.!" Hmm. While these statements are true (I do love me some comfy clothes and a good show;), I am not sure this is the only impression I want to leave on my children.  And Im not sure it is a full and clear reflection of who I am, truly.

Yes, I am (using Superhero announcer voice):
"Mom! Locator of all missing items, and finder of all that could not be found!"
"Mom! First responder to all crises, real and imagined!"
"Mom! Keeper of all important documents, dates, and appointments!"
"Mom! Vomit cleaner upper, medicine dispenser, and toilet bowl scrubber!"
"Mom!  Personal consultant for clothes, hair, and interior design!"

But I am also Mom, who loved dance and wishes she had made more time for it as the years went by. And Mom, who secretly dreams of playing an instrument like the piano, or guitar or ukelele, like the kids do.  And Mom, who would also like to learn to speak Spanish fluently! And Mom, who likes to make others smile and even laugh with crazy stories about her quirky family.

So I am going for it, once again.  Because Jon Acuff says I should.  And because my life is not over, not yet.  And because people like Jen Hatmaker inspire me with their own crazy stories.  And because life is too short to not go for it...again.