I don't want to celebrate.  I don't feel excited.  This Christmas seems gray.  The  silver has a tarnished hue.  The gold has faded.  The red and green are pale and dull.  This is not how it's supposed to be.  I just don't want to rejoice right now.  I feel it is out of context in the midst of such sorrow.
I know that come Christmas Day the joy on my children's face will lighten this mood.  It will change when family begins to come.  But, for now, this is where I am.

The faces of beautiful babies taken from this world will hopefully be encompassed by the reality of one perfect baby coming to save.  The faces of those I love who are gone will be overshadowed by an angel's message, "Emmanuel, God with us."  It will come.  These truths will lighten my world.  It will not erase the gray but comfort me in it.

I have had a dream for as long as I can remember.  It has been to write a book.  I have folders filled with inspiration about what I want to write about.  I was even able to go to a writer's conference and glean more tools to be able to accomplish this dream.

I'm struggling though.  I have this propensity for freezing up and retreating when I feel overwhelmed.  I have so much I feel like I need to do to become a good writer it has actually resulted in writer's retreat and not the vacation type.  The writer's retreat that comes with not picking up a pen and engaging with my thoughts and ideas.  My folders are all nicely color coded, my desk all set, and yet I have to force myself to sit down and engage.

I realize that I'm getting the cart before the horse so to speak.  I expect myself to have a group, a platform, a fantasic blog, a voice, and so many other things when I just need to write.  Those things will come.  I am still a baby at this.  I need to keep maturing.  I need to focus on the one thing I can do now and that is write.  The other things will come later.

So, I am writing.  I am trying to sit down every day and just write.  I am putting aside all these expectations my perfectionistic first born self tends to weigh itself down with.  Rome wasn't built in a day.

It's amazing what a little light does.  It brightens up the haze that comes from those cloudy days.  Often a house can feel closed in and dark.  That little bit of light from an open window can

As much as I love opening up the shades in my home but in my heart it is much more difficult.  I find such security in the hiding behind the blinds hoping no one will see how truly chaotic my heart might be.  Behind the shades is safety.

Today I am lifting the shades a little.

Jack is losing his hair again.  I trimmed the little tuft he has left so it didn't stick out so much.  There is that sense of hope every time it comes back.  Maybe this time.  Maybe, by some amazing feat it will keep growing.  Instead, I kiss his bald little head goodnight knowing I love this boy with or without hair.

I finally caught up on scrapbooking Emma's newborn pictures in time for her 3rd birthday (I guess it could be worse...her graduation?).  I found a picture of the first time Grandpa and Grandma held her and I couldn't do it.  I couldn't face it for two days.  It was too hard.  It's finally done and I ended up teary eyed.

Today is the anniversary of Pearl Harbor.  My Grandfather was a WW2 Vet and was sent to help with the clean up.  I wish I knew when I was younger what a hero he was.  I am glad I know now.

Mom and Dad are out visiting Andrew, Kathryn, and Jude.  I miss them.  I saw Drew for the first time in over 2 years at my Grandma's funeral.  I haven't been able to meet our little Jude yet and he's not so little anymore, walking and talking and giving his mom and dad a run for their money.  I am thankful for Skype so at least I can play peek-a-boo with him and read him Brown Bear.

This is going to be the 3rd or 4th Christmas where our whole family has not been together.  I miss the days when one of us would wake up at the crack of dawn and wake up everyone else, we'd try to wait patiently for Dad to read the Christmas story, longing to open our presents, and spend the evening playing games at the Parkers.

I want so badly to help my children learn the true meaning of Christmas while still trying to make special family memories.  Weeding through to figure out how not to lie about Santa while not breaking their little hearts is a lot messier than I thought.

Hitting my later 30's has also sent me into a philosophical tailspin as I ponder my purpose and priorities.  I achieved the milestones I longed for in my 20's of marriage and parenting and I find myself asking "now what".  I find myself wondering if a lot of the things I thought about myself in my 20's were really true or what I wanted them to be.  I feel a lot more vulnerable, a lot less confident, and a lot more overwhelmed.  I don't feel more mature as much as I feel more muddied.

So, as I let the light in, I see where I need to do some dusting and scrubbing.  I am finding more questions than answers but I'm OK with that.