Category: Christmas

I Played My Best for Him

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I love Christmas carols–always have. If you ask me to choose my top 3, it’s an easy choice:  “O Holy Night,” “Silent Night,” and “The Little Drummer Boy.”

That last one hardly fits into the category of “traditional Christmas carols,” but I can’t help it. That song makes me cry every time–always has. I don’t think I’ve ever been able to sing the line, “I played my best for him” without choking up.

The Little Drummer Boy gets it right. He brings his gift–not something that can be opened, but his talent–and he gives his best effort to honor the newborn King. As a musician, it’s what I try to do, Sunday after Sunday. And I love that after the Little Drummer Boy offers his humble gift, Baby Jesus smiles at him.

Pass me a tissue, please.

Why would I choose bongo drums to illustrate this post? In art, the Little Drummer Boy is always pictured with a snare, sometimes slung around his neck, and drumsticks in his hands.

But my Little Drummer Boy (AKA Little Brother) has bongo drums. We sang “The Little Drummer Boy” on Tuesday at church and will do so again today. (It’s not “orthodox;” it’s not in the hymnal, but it’s better theology than a bunch of what is in there.) Little Brother has learned to play the song on his drums. On Tuesday he knelt beside the guitarists and nailed that drum part, even meriting a thumbs-up from Bill, a former drummer who’s very particular about how percussion is played.

I love that my kids have had the opportunity to offer their musical gifts in worship, to play their best–even when they’re beginners musically. I teared up on Tuesday when my Little Drummer Boy played his best, right alongside me. And it’s pretty much a given that I’ll cry again today.

A Holiday By Any Other Name

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It’s that time of year again, and this year I’m just tired of it. This morning’s paper carried the announcement that my township will be lighting its “Holiday Tree” later this week.

At least they waited until December, but that’s a rant for another day.

Yes, they called it a “Holiday Tree” in the announcement. But honestly, whom do they think they’re fooling? Santa’s going to arrive (via fire truck, not reindeer sleigh) and there will probably be candy canes. That, plus the decorated tree and musical entertainment by the middle-school chorus gives everyone the first clue:  this is not Labor Day.

Call it what you want; we all know what the holiday in question is. And I don’t think that ranting about the problem is going to fix it.

This Advent and Christmas season, I encourage you to remember the reason for the season, cheesy though that expression may be.

Take time to listen to some sacred music. My Advent soundtrack this year, in addition to the rehearsal music for the Festival of Lessons and Carols in which I’m participating, is Advent at Ephesus. I got my copy a week ago; today I’ll listen to it for the first time. If a church or school near you is hosting a Festival of Lessons and Carols, don’t miss it!

Light the Advent wreath.

Study the Gospel of Luke.

Make a Jesse Tree.

Decorate gradually, and keep those decorations up past December 26. We don’t “undecorate” around here until after Epiphany.

Pray.

And have some fun. Watch the Christmas specials on TV or DVD. Don’t miss Charlie Brown or the Grinch.

I wish you a blessed Advent and Christmas season!

Last Week of 2011: Recap

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Well, it’s been an interesting week.

One week ago today we were loading the car for my husband’s Big Family Christmas Eve Celebration and Pierogi Festival.  It was a busy, loud, good day.  I got a kick out of the little kids:  these are the children of the cousins who were little kids when I first met my husband!  Although we don’t all get together much, the kids were quite sociable and comfortable around the adults and each other–what a credit to their parents.

My mother-in-law came back here with us after Christmas Eve and spent Christmas with us.  As we have done for the past several years, we spent Christmas at home.  Now that there are teenagers in the house, we let the kids open gifts as they wake up instead of waiting for everyone.  The folk group played at the 11:00 Mass, and we had a FULL choir area.  I don’t think we could have fit one more person in there, and the 5 guitars had a lot to do with that.  What a testament to the group, ranging from age 62 to the 5-year-olds who come along with their parents!  We’re there because we love what we do.  And on Christmas, everybody sings along.  There’s no better way to give God the glory.

After church we came home to prepare dinner and just hang out.  Big Brother’s girlfriend came over to have dinner with us.  We had a gift for her, and I had gotten her a funky stocking and put some fun stocking stuffers in with the gift as well.

On Christmas:  The Day After, we dropped off my mother-in-law and then headed to my parents’ house.  It was a full house with both my siblings and their families, my parents, my great-aunt, my uncle, one cousin, and one niece’s boyfriend.  The day featured lots of presents, lots of laughing, lots of food, and lots of cousins playing card games like “Old Maid,” “Go Fish,” and “B.S.”

Then it was Middle Sister’s birthday, a big chunk of which my husband spent in the Verizon store procuring iPhones for me and Middle Sister.  That’s a gift neither of us thought we’d ever receive and I’ve been having some fun with it–though there’s plenty still to be learned.  I made her a giant cookie cake AND an apple pie. She spent some time with her friends, and after dinner, our neighbors came over for dessert.

TheDad had been talking all week about going to Pittsburgh; no one knows why he wanted to go to Pittsburgh in December, but he did, so we did.  I refused to leave the house until he’d made a hotel reservation–there was no way I was going to play the “No Room at the Inn” game after driving for 5+ hours. We drove across Pennsylvania, with a detour to Shady Maple Smorgasbord for lunch.  There was all the usual bickering that driving 5+ hours with 3 kids involves.  For a few minutes there I thought there might be bloodshed in the buffet line (thanks, boys…)

TheDad’s new GPS totally failed Pittsburgh.  Maybe the highways are just too close together, I don’t know, but we were driving on “unnamed roads” a lot of the time, according to TomTom, and spent a good bit of time being told to make a U-turn when we were in a cattleshoot of Jersey barriers on a four-lane highway.

I found a spice shop 5 blocks from our hotel.  Look at all the cool stuff I got my hands on there!  They had 5 kinds of cinnamon (I restrained myself and only got 3).

We went to a Vietnamese restaurant for lunch and had Pho.  I’m glad I picked up some lemongrass at Penzeys, because I want to learn to make this soup!

We spent the afternoon at the Carnegie Science Center (consensus:  it’s cool, but Franklin Institute is way better) and then took a ride up and down the Monongahela Incline.

And bright and early yesterday morning, it was back on the road again to head home.  We were back by 3 and I’ve got plenty of laundry to keep me busy all day.  Though I love the Hampton Inn’s comfortable beds, it was wonderful to be back at home in my own.

I really am a homebody.  It was an enjoyable trip but I do love being in my own home.

We’ll ring in the New Year with friends, as usual, at their home.  I look forward to it, except for the staying-up-late part.  I turn into a pumpkin at about 9 PM.

Today, besides laundry, I’ll be cooking or baking something to bring along with us tonight–as soon as I figure out what that will be!

Except for that 3-day detour to Pittsburgh, this has been our usual Christmas vacation.  I’m kind of looking forward to Tuesday when they’re all back at work or school and the house is quiet once again.

Waiting in the Wings

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Today’s the day!  Before we leave for the Christmas Eve festivities, Little Brother will place all the figures in the Nativity scene.

Except, of course, for the Three Kings.  Those guys get to hang out behind the stable until Epiphany.

This morning, I unboxed and unwrapped all the figures and lined them up so they’re ready to take their places.

The scene is set…it’s almost time…places, everyone!

Sometimes I feel like Clark W. Griswold

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As Christmas gets closer, I look forward to it less. I know that, like Clark, I “set standards that no family activity can live up to.”  So by the 23rd of December, I’ve kind of had enough of it all already.

I’m anticipating what I know will be difficult moments.  I’ve got 3 days of family festivities coming up:  Christmas Eve with my husband’s huge extended family, Christmas Day at home, just us and my mother-in-law, and Christmas:  The Day After with my family in the Great White North.

There will be people with whom I’ve never really gotten along well, and we’ll have to make nice.

There will be people who’ve hurt me, and I’ll have to pretend I’ve let it go.

There will be people who like to give me “career advice” because my kids are “too old” for me to still stay at home with them.

There will be an extremely shaggy dog that sets off my asthma, and I’ll have to be extra careful about that, because I have to sing at church on Christmas Day and I don’t want to sound like Bonnie Tyler in “Total Eclipse of the Heart.”

It’s not going to be a picture-perfect three days by any stretch of the imagination.  To be honest, I’m dreading them.  That shot in the arm of Christmas spirit I got from our Festival of Lessons & Carols?  It’s pretty much worn off.  I feel less and less like celebrating, and more and more like I’ve got to just grit my teeth and get through it.

(It’s for the kids, after all.  And I think one of them still believes.)

All of that does nothing to shake that feeling I’ve got right now, that “we’re standing at the threshold of Hell.”  The feeling that this one, as bad as I am expecting it to be, is going to be better than the one next year.  It’s all downhill from here, for various reasons, and I’m not feeling up for it.

Like Clark, I want it perfect.  It’s never going to live up to that dream, and I know it.  Let’s face it:  the very first Christmas sure didn’t live up to Mary’s dreams.  Maybe that’s what Christmas is all about…

Still to be done

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I’m not done shopping–for my husband’s gift, the kids’ gifts, and food for Christmas dinner.  Not to mention gifts for Little Brother’s teacher and bus driver.

Nothing is wrapped.

I haven’t even started baking, and my cookie recipe makes at least 10 dozen and takes at least a full afternoon.

Little Brother has a rehearsal tonight, so it will be another late night (that makes 4 in a row!)

Last night, though, I spent two hours sitting at the front of a church with my guitar, and my son and his bass, and a children’s choir that included Little Brother, and various string, woodwind, brass and percussion instruments, and a group of about 30 amazing singers, one extremely talented pianist, and an awesome music director who kept us all together.  We celebrated a “Festival of Lessons and Carols” with beautiful music and nine readings from the Old and New Testaments.

Four hours before the festival began, I still wasn’t sure if I could play one of the songs.  It was unbelievably difficult.  I spent part of the morning transposing it.  Then I practiced, and practiced again.

I won’t say it was perfect by any means, but I’m happy that I got through it decently enough.  What a challenge!

Last night was a gift.  50 people shared their talents last night–and for many nights before at rehearsals.  Every one of those people could have been doing something else, like Christmas shopping, or homework, or watching football games, or sleeping…but this is what they chose to do.

I suspect that all 50, if asked, would respond the same way I do:  it was definitely worth it.  So worth it.

The rest of it will happen.  If I had it to do over again, I’d put off the shopping and the baking and the housecleaning (who am I kidding–I’m always ready to put off housecleaning).  I’d put it off in a second to be able to be a part of an experience like that.

What a wonderful early Christmas gift.  I am tired, proud, and very grateful.

A Christmas Rhapsody

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Because music touches you in a way nothing else can.

Because Christmas is coming.

Because classic rock is…classic.

Don’t miss Bethlehemian Rhapsody!

Not a Musical Genius

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One thing I enjoy about having an iPod is the “genius” feature in iTunes.  I can pick a song I like, click the Genius button, and immediately a playlist will be generated from the other songs in my library.  It works great–most of the time.

It does not work with Christmas music.

I wanted some background music when I was baking the gingerbread cookies just now.  Some will go to a bake sale tonight, others to a care package for Big Brother, and whatever’s left after that will get eaten here.  I made 9 dozen cookies today, so there’s enough to go around.

So I cued up Taylor Swift’s “Silent Night, Holy Night” and told the Genius to do its thing.  It went from the sublime to the ridiculous.  The second tune was Rascal Flatt’s “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen,” which was very nice.  And then the third tune was “Who’s Your Daddy” by Toby Keith.

I don’t think that one quite fits the Christmas theme.

I won’t be leaving my Christmas music to the Geniuses anymore.

Santa Claus Goes to Our Church

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Santa Claus is an usher at the noon Mass at our parish, except during November and December when he’s extra busy.  Kids who attend the noon Mass are used to seeing him there all year ’round, and have been known to tell their friends that Santa Claus goes to our church.

Santa wears red (and sometimes green) regardless of the season, and is always happy to take a break from handing out bulletins after Mass to talk to children.  Last November, before his schedule forced him to switch to an earlier Mass for a couple of months, he gave out little cards to the children with his picture on it and the message, “I saw Santa today, and he said I’m on the Good List.”

On the Sunday after Christmas, Santa is back in his usual spot as an usher, sporting his red parka.  You can see that the kids are all watching him:  Santa is here!  After Mass, they like to go and greet him.  Little Brother makes it a point to thank Santa for his Christmas gifts.

I’m grateful this year that the magic of Santa Claus is still alive in my home.  Little Brother and Adventure Boy still believe.  In fact, just before Christmas, there was almost a fistfight in here when one of the other Street Urchins suggested that Santa might not be real.  It was 3 to 1 FOR Santa, I’m happy to report.  I’m sure that our Christmas Eve tradition, as well as Santa’s quiet presence in our church, have plenty to do with that.

Photo-Rama

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Santa gave me a new camera for Christmas, which is great because my old camera bit the dust just before Little Brother’s First Communion, and the crummy point-and-shoot I bought, in a hurry, so I could get pictures of that special day was, well, crummy.

Little Brother was happy to take it off my hands. For an 8-year-old, it does just fine.

Middle Sister has been enjoying my camera. She’s 15 today, so I trust her with it. She has a good eye. I love this picture of some of my favorite Christmas decorations.

Here’s a shot of my Christmas tree, which I briefly got to light up again.  The lights went back out sometime yesterday.  Apparently I’m burning through the extension cord.  Guess it’s time to use 2 cords for this many lights (about 1600).  I took a break from cookie baking on the 23rd to replace the cord that I had originally used.

Last, two pictures of the results of the snowstorm.  There will be more later but I don’t want to go outside yet!  One is of my across-the-street neighbor’s house; I thought their Christmas lights looked cool in the snowstorm.  The other is around the edge of my pool, where the 40-mph-winds created a moat, exposing the rocks around the sides.