To Elf or not to Elf

If you know me you know I have not, historically, been a fan of Elf on the Shelf. While we celebrate Christmas with Santa, We keep Advent, not Santa day. We celebrate the season of celebration that reminds us that Jesus came as an infant to enter into humanity as the ultimate act of grace. He left Heaven, and holiness, to wallow in our crappiness so that we might be saved. Oh Christmas. This beautiful season of celebration, and creativity. I hate the part of Santa that says he only brings gifts to the kids on the nice list. What about the kids on the naughty list? Are kids who get less gifts less nice? Is the kid who got the furby AND the WiiU somehow a better child because Santa brings them more? I refuse to tell my children that Santa comes to those who earned it. We give gifts to celebrate the amazing, unmatchable free gift we have in Jesus. Last year, and every year before I would have happily told you the Elf was NOT for us... but enter Balin... my hilarious and constantly surprising middle child. He shocks me every day with ability to manipulate language and create humor. He came home one day last week and started talking... and never stopped. He mentioned some other kids in his class, and with the biggest grin on his face he started BEGGING that he too would have an elf come live at his house and "throw wrapping paper all over the place," "eat ALL the candy canes" and "make big messes and flush the toilet." The first request I ignored. The second I could not help but giggle along with him. And start thinking.... what IF I could come up with a way to use the Elf to teach grace and not a police/ reward for good acts? What IF we redeemed the silly for the sacred? What if he could participate like his classmates, but still learn the essential truths I seek to teach him? Could it be possible? After approaching my husband with the idea, we remembered that we had a coin jar waiting to be turned in. Turns out we had 43$ worth of quarters and pennies and dimes and nickels collected from this years worth of pockets and car cup holders. Plenty to bring home an Elf. The boys chose a girl (more fun for me!) and Balin named her Ezrietta. He INSISTED. Would not budge. That IS her name. Or officially Ezrietta Isabella. Ayden contributed the middle name. We are late into the "Elf season" but the kickoff this morning was a hoot. She "made" donuts for us and herself and set the table. This is the note Ezrietta left my boys:
 {forgive the awful rhymes! I did this in one pass with a metallic sharpie... no rewrites ;-) )

Dear Children,
You have named me Ezrietta and you will be glad to know, that I love my new name- this my smile should show!
You may think that Santa has sent me to tell him as I  spy  the good and the bad things that you sweet ones try. But let me tell you a secret that not even parents know, Santa cares not for which list you should go. Really! His joy on this fun holiday is to bless as many children as he can on this coming Christmas day. But WHY? My young friends, this is where you come in. See~ I'm new and I don't understand why Santa would have free gifts to give on hand. Why is he so joyful? What is the big deal? Will you help me to learn the real meaning here? I'll ask you a each day a question or two~ will you answer my questions until they are through? Enjoy this sweet breakfast I have made for you, we will have so much fun while I am here, and that, sweet ones, is TRUE.
                                                                         ~Ezrietta the Elf

They boys were excited this morning, but so far I think the fun was fun and not the focus of our celebration. Later during advent Balin said "Jesus just makes sense."  yup buddy. He does. So here's to creativity... with a purpose...

Simply {fair}

Thanksgiving was wonderful, but the moment the turkey hit the trash Jingle Bells started playing and somehow a gingerbread latte made with eggnog showed up in my hand. My feet are ready to hit the ground running the Friday after thanksgiving.. but not to wally world or tar(get). I'm kinda over black friday. But then again, I'm ready to shop.. I just want to enjoy it. I've had some fun early in the morning sneaking out of the house to go round up low priced goodies... but the stories of people being trampled and shot kinda take the fun out of it. What should be a joyus experience celebrating the return of THE King is instead a frantic rush to getgetgetgetgetgetgetgetgetgetgetget and to be firstfirstfirstfirstfirstfirstfirstfirst and by all means to get it cheapcheapcheapcheapcheapcheapcheap. If you are into that, great, but I enjoyed Friday morning on the couch with my snuggle bugs. We did make a run later in the day to get fabric for our Christmas quilt, and to pick up some extension chords so we could hang lights. The lights were up by sundown and my sweet vintage style yard ornaments were nestled into the garden shining happily by bedtime. This time of year always feels like my bank account gets a stomach virus. eeck. We always TRY to stick to a budget, but usually fail miserably. I wanted this year to feel different. I want our purchases to matter more, to mean more, and to point us towards the nativity. I've thought a lot this year about where our stuff comes from. {Have you seen that jaw dropingly awful commercial on tv for the "stuff sack"? It is these children singing this horrendous song about 'How much stuff could a stuff sack stuff if a stuff sack could stuff : exactly like a saturday night live skit... but someone actually paid to make it and it IS REAL.} I do not want more stuff to stuff in our stuff. I just moved. I KNOW how much of our STUFF is actually quite disposable, pointless and gross. At the same time, I love having a comfortable home, and I enjoy blessing my children with toys. It is such a tough balance. While I want to make better choices for the products we buy, I am also leery of falling into the environmental/product equality/ do everything perfect guilt trap. This is not about legalism, or proving I'm a better person or holier than anyone. I simply want to feel a little better about what I buy, and buy with a bit more purpose. I'm attacking this in three ways: buying local, buying Made in the USA, and buying Fair Trade. Not everything (by a long shot) even closely falls into these categories, but by making a few better choices I hope we will start a tradition of buying smarter in our home. I want us to be good stewards of our finances and less selfish.  I'll be posting a few posts this week that show our feeble attempts. I am proof that the spendiest of spenders can make wiser choices and do a little good this holiday season.

A reason to go

It had been six years. Six very long years since I have been to Colorado. There was a layover once, where my amazing friends met me at the airport so we could meet each other's babes, but other than that six years have passed since my husband and I took our then only child to Colorado for his aunts wedding. The reasons we have not returned are plentiful. Babies in womb. Babies in arm. Lay offs. New jobs. No vacation time. Funerals using up any extra travel money we may have had. This year though those reasons became fewer and the reasons to go became abundant. A four year old who has never seen snow so he starts making up weird stories about it. Like it exists only as a fantasy. An eight year old who I desperately need to understand when he tries to tell me about his other life. Children and husbands of dear friends who I know only from facebook statuses. A long awaited first paid vacation... ON Christmas Day. But friends... what really moved my tamale laden self to drive 20 hours against the odds of an ice storm, cranky children, and graham cracker coated mini van seats? This little dude. And the years of prayer I've prayed over him.

He was as uh-mazing as I imagined. Feisty, sweet and chill all rolled up into the cutest little self. He played a bit with my boys, but mostly looked at me with complete suspicion. Who would blame him? I am quite intimidating after all ;-). I gave him a stuffed longhorn (only for the Texas reference people.. not the school!!) to break the ice. Just like my 1 year old he looked and then thew it down. No really.It was a classic I don't know you and I don't want your stuff toddler reaction. Perfectly adorable and I expected no different! I couldn't care less how he responded to me. It was complete selfishness motivating my visit. When you pray for rain for months, and the sweetness falls from the sky, what do you do? You run out into it and dance! Or stare from the window and weep. Or drive across state lines just to sit. God is good my friends. He delivers the helpless. He cares for the orphan. Each little life, from the moment of conception matters to Him... and he provides. For Briggs, he provided Becky and Mark... and the rest of their large, loving and happy to have  him home family. 

For Briggs this was the answer. It wont be the same for all of them,the nearly 400 million orphans in this world, but seeing Briggs answered a big question for my husband and I. We have arms. And they are waiting to be filled. Even if every old lady at walmart thinks my hands are full. I have room for another. For a daughter. And I want her. So I'm praying. It could be years people. Many many many years, but we're ok with that. Because we saw the proof. The same proof I see in my little sister. In my niece. No matter how God does it, I know it will happen. Adoption is a miracle, and ours is beginning. If only in our hearts. I wonder sometimes, how it happens. That amazing connection I hear adopting parents speak of. The immediate love. How in four months a little boy can go from an orphanage in Ethiopia to falling asleep holding his Mommy's hand in the back of my mini van. Complete trust. Complete love.  Complete redemption. A baby born in a manger. A miracle. Complete. This has been an amazing Christmas. There is much more to share, but for now, another shot of the perfection that is Mr. Briggs. You can tell how much he adores me, right? That's alright buddy. I'm perfectly fine loving you from afar!