Tis the season for sneaking into the rooms of sleeping children and slathering their faces with Vasoline and sleeping sitting up. Tis the season for smuggling medications into popsicle and cuddling on the couch to watch just. one. more. Christmas special. Tis the season of vaporub, humidifier, honey and lemons, and catching vomit in two hands

(Side bar: Moms catching vomit

It’s such a strange phenomenon. I remember my sister telling me she did ‘that’ once and I looked at her totally confused.

“really I said? Wouldn’t you rather let it get on the van? Doesn’t it get on the van anyways?”

“I don’t know she answered, it’s just instinct”

And now I know its true. I did it last night and I know why. It’s a sign of solidarity. I’m saying “I wish I could take this cup from you but until then I’ll form myself into a cup for you”. Its motherhood defined…)

Our season is defined by being held up at home, eating instant food and not getting carried away with Christmas preparations. You know what? That is ok. Perhaps God prefers to slip in the back door anyways. Perhaps he likes to come unannounced and to help in the clean up. So this evening, I’ll light the advent candles in the window. Let him know there is a little house that is waiting for Him even if we can’t quite pull off the fanfare.