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I have discovered the foolproof way to have a stressed-out Advent: plan to knit gifts for five of your children + niece/nephew, but start late and suspect that you have a repetitive strain injury. Agree to design some of the gifts, even though you do not excel at colorwork. Knit a dragon mitten which leaves people guessing "reindeer? rabbit?" when they are asked to identify the animal represented thereupon. Finish weaving in ends in the small hours of Christmas Day. My kids were all pleased with their gifts, but WOW it was not the way to spend the weeks before Christmas. Ravelry has made it possible to share links with non-Ravelers, so here are project details for anyone who's curious: flip-top dragon (not reindeer!) mitts for the 11yo, dragon hat for the 5yo, Parrotfish hat for the 8yo, Swell hat for the oldest, and a blue-eyed golden-haired doll for the blue-eyed golden-haired 2yo. Also: hats and mittens for my niece and nephew, if you really love looking at other people's knitting.
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Despite my poor planning, we had a lovely Christmas. (The picture is our Christmas pudding, aflame.) In the whirlwind of meal prep I said to my husband that I appreciated how well we worked together in our tiny kitchen -- we seem to anticipate each other and navigate the narrow space with few collisions. I felt like kind of a slacker as he put together one thing after another. That night he complimented me on the dinner and I said, "...but you cooked almost everything." "Yeah," he said, "except for the goose, and the stuffing, and the gravy...." Holiday meals used to trigger nasty arguments for us, so I am really grateful to be in a spot where we can work together well and appreciate each other's efforts.
- Speaking of grateful, I cantored at 9 on Christmas morning, and I was pretty sure I was just going to squeak through. I'd been fighting a cold all week, and I'd been up in the night for a couple of hours with Stella. (The toddler sleep thing is crushing me like an osteoporotic bug. (Bugs probably can't be osteoporotic since they don't have bones, but I don't know the exoskeleton equivalent so you'll have to bear with me. If you are reading this blog for the entomology, you're in a small minority.)) Both sickness and sleep deprivation take a toll on my singing voice, and so I fully expected it to sound thin and raggedy. Instead -- and I can't seem to say this so it doesn't sound boasty, but that's so not my intent -- I listened to myself singing "Angels We Have Heard On High" and thought, "Where did that voice come from?" It hit me, forcefully, that the moment was a gift from God. And so I gave it everything I had, singing out Glory to God in the highest, doing my best to pray it alongside the angels. That was my favorite Christmas carol as a little girl and I remembered singing it on Christmas Eve almost 35 years ago. I thought about this life God has given me: the husband who loves me and the children we love together and the opportunities to learn together about hope and redemption.
And it was very good.
I'm calling it a night so I can take five children to an 8am Adoration hour. Wish me luck!
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