Sunday, November 30, 2014


I'm realizing that Christmas is run by anti-perfectionism in our home. Well, a lot of things in our home are run by anti-perfectionism; I just realized it when we were decorating for Christmas.

The only picture I got of the kids on Thanksgiving. Seriously. Because I can't cook and take pictures simultaneously.

I let Littles help me decorate the tree…I wouldn't necessarily have placed some of the ornaments where he did.

I let the kids move the manger scenes around and play with them during the day…pretty sure I tripped on one of the magi on the way to dinner tonight.

Setting a pretty table is one of my favourite things. Green, also a favourite. And candles.

I let the boys take the nutcrackers off the Christmas tree and they turned them into knights defending a castle (and one of the ball ornaments became a bomb)…I picked up a piece of wood before bedtime that I'm pretty sure used to be a nutcracker staff. I'm too scared to look and find out if I'm right.

My first time to cook all of Thanksgiving dinner solo. It was fun! {Pie not pictured}

The problem is that I like perfect. I like everything in its place. I like pretty.

But I love my kids. I also love the idea of them growing up thinking I'm super chill and fun, which is a long shot, but letting them deconstruct Christmas for me is a start.

I also love pretty bookshelves. I gave up on that one once the twins got mobile. Evidently, books are fun chew toys.

I know there are twenty gazillion posts out there about the true meaning of Christmas and how we can't let our desire for picture perfect memories keep us from making actual memories, but I just wanted to share this simple thought that I had.

Tiny's contribution to the Christmas decorating was entertaining the rest of the family with his shenanigans.
We all know who his aunt is.

Yesterday when I was biting my tongue for the twentieth time as the Little Man grouped all his favourite ornaments on the same tree limb, I thought about how Jesus says simply, "Let the little children come to me."

We had an extra doggie with us this week helping with the set up.

How can I let the little children come to Jesus when I'm too busy cleaning up spills and crumbs and rearranging sparkly ornaments?

Littles was pretty excellent with the fake tree branch fluffing.

How can I lead them into his presence and share with them the joy and awe of his birth, if I'm more concerned about the presence of messes and the joy and awe of having things my way?

The twins did some bead untangling for me. Or re-tangling. One of those.

How can I let them come to Jesus unless I slow down and let them first come to me?

So close and yet so far.

Anyway, all this means that I'm taking a continued stance of anti-perfectionism.

It may not be "perfect", but right now it's perfect for us. Everything may not be in the place I originally appointed, but it's in the place it needs to be. And yeah, maybe our tree isn't pretty in the traditional sense, but I'm almost positive it qualifies as beautiful.

Bee woke up extra early this morning so we could enjoy the tree together before the sun came up.

So, let the little children and the anti-perfectionism come.


  1. All I see in the pictures is evidence of perfection.

  2. Good stuff. And yes, second-child personalities carry around generations…And the photo of the food made me hungry so I'm going up to get lunch so I can come back and actually do some productive work somehow.