Today is one of those quiet days where you listen to Christmas music and sip hot cocoa and pretend it's too cold out to spend the day on the playground...
We started this morning at the pediatrician's office for Fynn's four year well visit, where the kids entertained the nurse and doctor with their frog hopping and their listening and their stories. Fynn told his doctor how his favorite color is white, and how he only likes white food {white yogurt... white ice cream... white milk... } And now, hours later, Fynn is walking around, playing with his toys, holding onto his upper arms like Danny Kaye in White Christmas with his war wound. He's looking up at me with big doe eyes asking for more lolly pops and graham crackers. And he knows I'll give them to him because he had five shots in his four year old arms...
So we're quietly recovering from that...
I've been a crafting fool the past few days. Completely inspired by Maegan and her gnome hats, and yarn and ornament wreath. My hands are busy and my heart is content. It's the first holiday season in so long that I've felt the desire to work with my hands and craft and create.
{she doesn't actually have a boo boo on her forehead... she just needs to have a band aide in that spot all. the. time. She just wants you all to know she's a tough cookie ;) }
The smell of the hot glue gun takes me back to days spent preparing for Christmas with my mom and brother. We crafted like it was nobody's business... and smelling my rinky dink glue gun and it's tiny glue sticks makes me feel like it's Christmas. In a quiet, hot chocolate and sticky paint hands sort of way.
And even when the crafting doesn't go as planned {the wreath above and below? That's the second one I made over the weekend. The first included old glass ornaments... I hung it, stood back to admire my work, and it came crashing down... ornaments shattered and pieces strewn all over the carpet... } there's a calm that's sticking around this year. There's less yelling and forcing, just more... ease. A welcoming of imperfect and a want for things to look hand made. To look like what they are. Made of love and patience and smiles and laughter. Kids holding balls of yarn while I knit, and peering over projects and asking to help.
In my heart I know it's not just because of the upcoming holidays, but a shift in me. I'll take it as fate and perfect timing... otherwise I might miss the opportunity to lean into the crafting and the scents of glue guns and craft paint mixed with evergreens and cinnamon.