It seems like Christmas was ages ago, although a full month hasn’t even passed yet. The weeks before and after were so filled with activities and birthdays and trips and doctor’s appointments and all things crazy, that I didn’t even have time to digest it all.
But that’s usually when the really good stuff happens, and you don’t even know about it until later.
At least, that’s the way it works in my life.
The week before Christmas, I took my mom to Fargo for an eye appointment. Since we were already in town, we stayed up for a special Christmas party for children with special health concerns. It was George’s first time ever meeting Santa, and he was so enthralled with the big bushy-haired man. (I actually think he thought it was his dad!)
It didn’t dawn on me until after Christmas break was just about done that I had forgotten to send a Christmas gift to school with the boys for their teachers. When it hit me, I apologized to the boys immediately and promised to send them back to school with something for each teacher.
They told me not to worry about it…they had it covered.
They knew I was busy, and the day that I was gone to Fargo, they each took a book from the book orders that we placed and gave them to their teachers. Not only a gift to the teacher, but a gift to the whole class as well.
I tried to pretend that I wasn’t moved to tears, and thanked them both for being so thoughtful.
Sometimes I worry about raising boys in these times. Sometimes I worry that I’m not doing a good job, or that I’m doing something wrong.
But then sometimes I wonder how I became such a lucky mother, to have not one, but four amazing children gifted to me by God.