This is My Life

Today was Christmas. It was a bit crazy. Lane decided to wake up early, play hard and open presents for two hours, take a nap (for only thirty minutes), and then scream for an hour. After we finally calmed him down, he decided to refuse sleep for the remainder of the day. Yes. The WHOLE day. He finally went to sleep at 8:30 tonight. Needless to say, I'm quite tired. But...this Christmas was really nice. My side of the family decided to not swap gifts this year. We gave gifts for the kids, but that was all. Maybe it was the lack of stress in having to figure out what to get each person, maybe it was the emotional-ness of it being my first Christmas as a mother, or maybe it was the fact that my pants actually fit this year (thank you, Dillard's), but this year I've experienced Christmas in a very different way. This year I have wondered about a lot of things...things that probably don't matter, but I wonder about them anyway. Things like...when Mary rode that donkey,

Tonight it's Christmas Eve. While this year is very special, I still find myself doing something that I've always done. I remember my Christmases past. I seriously doubt it's something rare...probably everyone does it to some extent. It's human nature, right? I love to remember the ones that were really great...like the one where I got my pink Huffy bicycle with the white seat...or the one when I got my Baby Alive doll. I wasn't the gift that made it special, though. The pink bike only stands out because I remember seeing it in the living room with a bow on the seat. We took it out in the front yard, and with a little help, I was able to start riding it right away. I felt like such a grown up! And the Baby Alive doll? That was the first year that my family decided to draw names, and my cousin drew my name. I really wanted that doll, and she knew it. She hunted that doll all the way to Dothan. Seriously, she drove all the way to Dothan to get me that doll. Whe

I’m planning on sending out a Christmas letter this year. No, I’m not particularly excited about it. If you know me well, you might know that I have always stood firm in the idea that I would never send out a Christmas letter. Why? It’s not that I have anything against people that do send them out; on the contrary, I really enjoy them. My phobia of sending one out stems from a lady my aunt used to receive letters from each year. Although I never knew her, my aunt would get the “brag letter” as we called it, and she and my mom would read it with rolled eyes and point out each “brag” item. And thus my phobia formed…I never thought I’d be able to send out a Christmas letter that didn’t sound like bragging. Instead, I’ve always tried to write some sort of personal message to the card’s receiver as well as include a Christmas-themed scripture. However…enter my sweet, precious, TIME EATING little boy, Lane. This year, I just don’t have time. It’s not that the desire isn’t there…I long to tak