Via The Dolly Mama
Monthly Archive: December 2010
December 10
In the lobby at Berean Church, moments before the Before the Lamb concert started tonight.
Fabulous, fabulous show. Praise God for such talented musicians that bring light to this season of Christ’s birth.
December 9
I stood in the aisle at Target for goodness knows how long as I contemplated buying the plush white throw pillow. I had completed all important shopping and my brain wasn’t functioning very quickly anymore as I entered something of a Shopper’s Daze. The store lights, smells and dizzying colors had gotten to me and I debated and debated and debated the purchase of one throw pillow.
In the end, I bought it.
And I’ve found I have officially turned into my mother. “Don’t drool on this one!” I warned Livia right away. “Because I can just see you drinking something chocolate-y and then laying down on this pillow.” She cuddled into the fuzzy stripes and nuzzled her face in it. I took one look at her, and promptly gave her an old couch pillow. Just like my mom used to do. But somehow, despite my mom’s best efforts, I repeatedly napped—and drooled—on the good pillows.
Why we mamas purchase anything new is beyond me. And something white to boot? I’m blaming it on that shopping daze—and those alluring fuzzy white stripes.
December 8
We have a tradition of buying a Christmas book every year to read as a family. I write the year purchased in the front cover and add it to the pile of books from years before. Except, this year my bookshelf-and-armoire-organizing husband organized the heck out of our dining bookshelf and armoire and now I’m not so sure where the pile is. I’m pretty sure I’d find it, though, if I looked hard enough. (Have I mentioned how awesome it is to be married to a guy who vacuums, washes the floors and organizes my chaotic shelves?) Today, however, is not the day of searching for old books; it is the day of buying the new one. So now we have one fabulous Christmas book to enjoy, The Night Before Christmas, retold and illustrated by Rachel Isadora.
Livia learned that Santa wasn’t real last year, so I figured this book’s setting—in a village in Africa, complete with a black Santa—wouldn’t ruin anything for her. If anything, it solidifies the fun of Santa around the world, and how this mythical character is imagined and enjoyed in most every culture. The illustrations are wonderful and the poetry is as Clement C. Moore intended it.
I can’t wait for story time tonight.
