Pause

The night before Thanksgiving Andrew and I had just gotten the kids to bed and started making pies together to take with us to the farm the next morning.  We had just finished packing Henry and Nelle's bags where each day's outfit was packed individually in a labeled plastic bag 

in hopes of keeping things a bit more organized for our four days away.  

(I forgot all of Henry's socks and absentmindedly wrapped Nelle's photo shoot headband in my seven-year-old niece's birthday gift.)  

Henry's tot cot was already in the back of the car, and we had started to pile up packed bags full of clean diapers and folded clothes, 

and road trip snacks and toys, which always makes Franklin's blood pressure go up a bit. 

As I rolled, rolled, rolled out my pie crust, 

even though part of me really wanted to be done with holiday trip prep instead of standing in the kitchen baking, 

I was thankful for the task that made me stop.

I always over-schedule, over-commit, and I realized why the holidays have come to mean so much to me these past three years.  

They are the perfect pause to force me to stop and just be.

To enjoy my family, and homemade desserts, and matching stockings, and Christmas cards that arrive every day, and the traditions both young and old, and my littles seemingly growing in the blink of an eye when compared to last year's holiday season.

 

I don't relax easily.  If I'm watching TV, I feel like I should be doing something else too.  Every night.  I can't call it a night until the kitchen is cleaned and the toys are put away.  Every night.  It always takes me at least twice as long as Andrew to fall asleep.  Every night. 

For someone like me, these special days, even with all of their extra prep and to-do's, are a break.

A gift with no-guilt for not being productive and doing laundry and sweeping the floor under the high chair.

 

I'm learning that their is value in time for ourselves and time to do nothing. 

And so, on Wednesday, Andrew took off work to celebrate our girl's special day, and we only celebrated.

With her first donut breakfast, lunch with just daddy and mommy, naps, a long winter's walk, and an extra treat before bed.

 

Wishing for more days like this one that one little candle stick.