Another whirlwind vacation of traveling five major interstates spanning eight southern states in a minivan with two exhausted adults, three restless children, two chihuahua half-breeds, a squeaky gerbil, and all the baggage that comes with each, emotional or otherwise. The whole trip- for two weeks of an unusually warm winter- my poor ten toes have been ice cold!
Virginia to Alabama. A short visit with good friends, where my toesies were unhappily reminded that all thermostats are not set to my ambient winter temperature of "toasty."
Alabama to Texas. An 80 degree Christmas, the warmest in recent Houston history, where two new pairs of shoes were purchased; one for running and one for church to match the more temperature-appropriate new Christmas dress. Neither provided the warmth my little piggies seemed to crave.
Texas to Georgia. The much cooler New Year holiday spent snuggled in borrowed UGA slippers and my husband's dress socks in a home with poor engineerical planning for the FROG... or was it the industrial sized freezer our bed was made in? I'm not sure!
And now Georgia back home to Virginia. My forever-frozen footsies still desperately seeking heat as we make our way further north. Today's attempts include huddling together in the warmth of the dash board vent and the recently-elusive dazzling rays of sunshine.
Still cold.
But they will be tucked in the cozy comfort of their own bed soon. They are happy, happy feet after all for all the miles traveled. As am I, still filled with the magic of every warm embrace given by loved ones seen far too infrequently.
Showing posts with label Christmas. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Christmas. Show all posts
Saturday, January 2, 2016
Wednesday, December 11, 2013
Caspian the Giant Saves Christmas
I'll admit it. I never thought I'd participate in anything as silly as the Elf on the Shelf tradition. Like ever. A little Christmas elf that magically moves every night and reports back to Santa? Really? The last thing I need is to add one more "to do" to my list, especially this time of year. And compete with Super Mom for the most creative elf appearance? Sounds like a fabulous way for me to ruin the Christmas spirit altogether by forgetting to move said elf and breaking my sons' little hearts. I mean, let's be honest- ain't nobody got time for that!
I've seen a few anti-elf posts on Facebook already this year. People sharing their thoughts on how obnoxious it all is, all sounding quite familiar to my previous feelings on the subject, although I was more worried about being able to keep up with it daily rather than being annoyed by someone else's decision to partake in this tradition.
Here's the thing. Last year, I was in a very different place, both physically and emotionally. I don't know why I'm always amazed at how life's circumstances can give you a very different perspective of everything, but so it is.
2013 has been a very big year for our family, the biggest event being the blessing of becoming an officer family in the U.S. Coast Guard. We were, of course, so excited and honored by my husband's promotion. It is a wonderful thing for our family, and he has worked so hard for this. The trouble is, with a promotion like this also comes the probability of an early move, often considered a curse of the military life. I don't typically mind a move. In fact, I was born for this nomadic lifestyle and I'm usually thrilled to find adventure in the change of scenery. But this time was different, and I'm not sure I've discovered why just yet. Really, we didn't move far, but the changes have affected me much more than I'm happy to admit. As a result, the joy I normally find in this time of year has been rather elusive. There is no Christmas music blaring in my home, as is the custom from early November through the first of January. Though I have purchased and wrapped most of our gifts for family and friends, I have done so with a grinch-like countenance. We carelessly disposed of our little Charlie Brown tree in our move this summer with no intention of replacing it. Our Nativity is still tucked away in its box. I have not even glanced at the super long list of Pinterest holiday ideas and crafts pinned just after Christmas last year to my "Must Do Holiday" board. I'm just not feeling it this year... and that's no way to celebrate the birth of our Savior.
Now, let me pause here to explain another military family truth. Many, if not all of our holidays and vacations are spent traveling to visit family. If the husband has time off and the kids have no school (though this aspect has changed since we began our homeschool journey), we squeeze in time with as many loved ones as we can possibly manage. The more we move, the more people we adopt as family, and the more we want to visit. It is a wonderful thing to have family and friends spread all over the country, (and please don't misunderstand- I wouldn't change this) but it is also a sacrifice. My children have only spent one Christmas Eve in their own beds, waking up Christmas morning in their own living room. We don't have those cool family traditions for December 24th and 25th (or the two weeks surrounding) because we never know where we will be. And don't get me started on what a logistical nightmare Santa can be! For the first time, this year our children have expressed a desire to be home for Christmas and questioned why we always had to be somewhere else. I didn't know what to say to them. I did, however, have an idea of how to make the season a little fun and to step out of this funk I seem to have led my family into.
I have a very talented friend who owns a little shop called the Burbs. She sells toys and collectibles, all made with her own two hands and lots of heart. One of her seasonal items is a quirky little elf. I followed her family's elf, Monroe and his crazy shenanigans last year, and thought one of these little guys could really bring some special memories to my boys. And so Caspian the Giant was created!
It is only the second week of December, and already Caspian has helped our family find Christmas. It was so sweet to see the expressions on the faces of my three boys when they awoke to find a beautiful 6-foot pre-lit Christmas tree awaiting the ornaments Caspian had dug out of the dark basement on only his second day with us. Some of these ornaments hadn't seen a tree in 10 years! The boys giggled when they read his note expressing slight irritation in our delay of decorating. Caspian even surprised our visiting friends with poppers and silly string in celebration of reaching the half-way mark in their daddy's deployment. He brought Christian balloons and a little gift on his birthday (because having a December birthday is always tough). With every little act of Christmas fun, the bah-humbugs are replaced with holiday bliss.
His gestures are not always a big to do and they can be rather mischievous sometimes, but I don't mind giving Caspian credit for the deeds he has done. Having him around has truly been more fun than I could've imagined an elf being. It's been the best addition to our Christmas traditions this year; one we can easily do here at home, or on the road visiting friends and family. I'm creating memories for my children- happy, joy-filled fun, and what in life is better than that?
I'm certainly not saying that having an elf is necessary for every family or that our elf antics supercede the real meaning of Christmas. I simply wanted to offer another perspective to those who see the Christmas Elf as an annoyance or as a competition.
Here are some pictures of Caspian's adventures so far in the Ortiz house:
I've seen a few anti-elf posts on Facebook already this year. People sharing their thoughts on how obnoxious it all is, all sounding quite familiar to my previous feelings on the subject, although I was more worried about being able to keep up with it daily rather than being annoyed by someone else's decision to partake in this tradition.
Here's the thing. Last year, I was in a very different place, both physically and emotionally. I don't know why I'm always amazed at how life's circumstances can give you a very different perspective of everything, but so it is.
2013 has been a very big year for our family, the biggest event being the blessing of becoming an officer family in the U.S. Coast Guard. We were, of course, so excited and honored by my husband's promotion. It is a wonderful thing for our family, and he has worked so hard for this. The trouble is, with a promotion like this also comes the probability of an early move, often considered a curse of the military life. I don't typically mind a move. In fact, I was born for this nomadic lifestyle and I'm usually thrilled to find adventure in the change of scenery. But this time was different, and I'm not sure I've discovered why just yet. Really, we didn't move far, but the changes have affected me much more than I'm happy to admit. As a result, the joy I normally find in this time of year has been rather elusive. There is no Christmas music blaring in my home, as is the custom from early November through the first of January. Though I have purchased and wrapped most of our gifts for family and friends, I have done so with a grinch-like countenance. We carelessly disposed of our little Charlie Brown tree in our move this summer with no intention of replacing it. Our Nativity is still tucked away in its box. I have not even glanced at the super long list of Pinterest holiday ideas and crafts pinned just after Christmas last year to my "Must Do Holiday" board. I'm just not feeling it this year... and that's no way to celebrate the birth of our Savior.
Now, let me pause here to explain another military family truth. Many, if not all of our holidays and vacations are spent traveling to visit family. If the husband has time off and the kids have no school (though this aspect has changed since we began our homeschool journey), we squeeze in time with as many loved ones as we can possibly manage. The more we move, the more people we adopt as family, and the more we want to visit. It is a wonderful thing to have family and friends spread all over the country, (and please don't misunderstand- I wouldn't change this) but it is also a sacrifice. My children have only spent one Christmas Eve in their own beds, waking up Christmas morning in their own living room. We don't have those cool family traditions for December 24th and 25th (or the two weeks surrounding) because we never know where we will be. And don't get me started on what a logistical nightmare Santa can be! For the first time, this year our children have expressed a desire to be home for Christmas and questioned why we always had to be somewhere else. I didn't know what to say to them. I did, however, have an idea of how to make the season a little fun and to step out of this funk I seem to have led my family into.
I have a very talented friend who owns a little shop called the Burbs. She sells toys and collectibles, all made with her own two hands and lots of heart. One of her seasonal items is a quirky little elf. I followed her family's elf, Monroe and his crazy shenanigans last year, and thought one of these little guys could really bring some special memories to my boys. And so Caspian the Giant was created!
It is only the second week of December, and already Caspian has helped our family find Christmas. It was so sweet to see the expressions on the faces of my three boys when they awoke to find a beautiful 6-foot pre-lit Christmas tree awaiting the ornaments Caspian had dug out of the dark basement on only his second day with us. Some of these ornaments hadn't seen a tree in 10 years! The boys giggled when they read his note expressing slight irritation in our delay of decorating. Caspian even surprised our visiting friends with poppers and silly string in celebration of reaching the half-way mark in their daddy's deployment. He brought Christian balloons and a little gift on his birthday (because having a December birthday is always tough). With every little act of Christmas fun, the bah-humbugs are replaced with holiday bliss.
His gestures are not always a big to do and they can be rather mischievous sometimes, but I don't mind giving Caspian credit for the deeds he has done. Having him around has truly been more fun than I could've imagined an elf being. It's been the best addition to our Christmas traditions this year; one we can easily do here at home, or on the road visiting friends and family. I'm creating memories for my children- happy, joy-filled fun, and what in life is better than that?
I'm certainly not saying that having an elf is necessary for every family or that our elf antics supercede the real meaning of Christmas. I simply wanted to offer another perspective to those who see the Christmas Elf as an annoyance or as a competition.
Here are some pictures of Caspian's adventures so far in the Ortiz house:
Caspian needed a bit of sugar to get him going and he got into the candy bowl on the first night.
Caspian was a little irritated that we hadn't decorated yet, and actually provided us with a tree!
A reunion with all his friends from the Burbs.
A friendly game of Five Card Spud.
Attempting to decorate a bit more.
A celebration for half-way through friends' deployment.
A snowball fight with the Cat.
Happy birthday, Christian!
Christmas Hangman with the Christmas Little People
Caught him watching Despicable Me 2, a gift he brought for the boys.
Friday, January 21, 2011
The Thirteenth Christmas
As submitted to James Avery Craftmen's Facebook "Christmas Memories" Contest on November 24, 2010:
I know many people whose favorite seasons are fall and winter, mostly because of the holidays and the joy they bring. I am no different, but this time of year marks a very special anniversary for me that has really carved the seasons of fall and winter deep into my heart.
Thirteen years ago, I was pregnant at the young age of 18 and due to deliver a baby boy in December. It was a very difficult time for me. It was an unplanned pregnancy for my boyfriend, Carlos and me, and we knew we had big decisions in our very near future. We had just graduated high school and my dreams of college were quickly slipping away. I desperately wanted to be a mother to this baby I loved so much, but I knew that babies could not survive on love alone. We decided it would be foolish not to consider adoption. Still, we struggled with the choice- how do you choose a family that is right for your baby? It wasn’t long before that question was answered.
Lisa was my aunt’s sister-in-law. She and her husband, Al were awaiting the arrival of a baby girl they were to adopt in the summer of 1997, but when the baby was born, the mother changed her mind and the adoption fell through. They were heart-broken. I had just shared my pregnancy news with my mother when I was told of their story. In their sorrow, I heard the gentle whisper of the Lord; this was the loving couple He had created for my son. I wish that I could tell you it was a moment of joy, but I was truly overwhelmed with sadness for I finally understood that he was not meant to be my son, though he would always be just that in my heart. I pushed through my sadness and shared my revelation with Carlos. He agreed and we shared our decision with our families and Lisa and Al. They were over the moon, but cautious – their scars were still healing from the last baby they gave their hearts to. I included them in as much of the pregnancy as I could, but I made sure to treasure the moments that remained with my sweet baby boy. As the leaves of fall began to change and the temperature gradually cooled, I would often visit the neighborhood park and sit quietly beside the pond with my arms tightly wrapped around my belly, as though I could keep him there forever. I would whisper all my hopes and dreams to him, and he always seemed to stir at just the right time, as if to acknowledge my love for him. I spent much of the fall lost in these precious moments, but they passed far too quickly. The minutes turned to hours, hours to days, and days to weeks. As the mild Texas winter came, so did our baby boy. On December 8, 1997, Zach was born.
It was an emotional day; the proverbial rollercoaster of elation and fear and sorrow. I had been so anxious to meet him, but the excitement was over shadowed by my fear; it felt like the beginning of the end. Amidst a roomful of people, the nurse placed him in my arms and all the world faded away along with my sadness. It was just the two of us. I knew our time was short, but how could I be sad with this beautiful child, this gift from God in my arms? He was absolutely perfect and I knew the Lord had great plans for him though I would watch from a distance.
The days that followed passed very quickly and before I knew it, the day had come for me to go home. I chose not to see him the morning I left. I wasn’t sure I could say goodbye, though at the time, I thought I would see him soon and often. It was a verbal arrangement made between Lisa, Al, and I. We would see them as I always had, at occasional family dinners, graduations, and weddings. Unfortunately, life seldom goes according to plan.
Christmas came and went, the saddest I had ever had. And then another and another. I learned to live with a giant whole in my heart. Carlos and I married in May of 2002. Still, we had not seen Zach and heard very little about him. He was doing well, we knew, and even had a sister now, Lydia who was also adopted and the same age as Zach, but it was all second-hand information. Following Zach’s birth and adoption, Lisa grew very distant and withdrew from all contact. All we could do was give her space. I thought for sure it was temporary, but years went by and we were always told the time wasn’t right. We could only wait. I clung to mementos from his birth and a few precious pictures I had collected from random places over the years. These and the daily prayers of my hopeful heart were all I had.
Twelve falls have come and gone, followed in the usual way by winter, and many things have changed. We have since been blessed with the birth of three more boys, and are living far from our home state of Texas as a Coast Guard family. But no matter where I had been, when September rolled around and the trees began to change, I had always found a quiet place in God’s wondrous world to send my whispers out hoping they would stir his heart as they had before.
God never leaves prayers unanswered or promises un-kept.
Now, another fall and winter come, but our thirteenth Christmas will not be spent without Zach or his sister, Lydia. Following the tragic loss of their mother to an inoperable brain tumor this September, we were reunited with Zach and his family. I cannot understand the need for the loss of Lisa, but as God so often does, he has created new hope from the ashes of this tragedy. Lisa has left a new hole that will never be filled, but together, Al, Carlos, and I are redefining a family for our children with a special place for everyone, surrounded in love and grounded in faith. It’s an exciting new chapter in our lives and the first of many Christmases in which we will count our many blessings and cherish each moment we have together.
The Thirteenth Christmas
I know many people whose favorite seasons are fall and winter, mostly because of the holidays and the joy they bring. I am no different, but this time of year marks a very special anniversary for me that has really carved the seasons of fall and winter deep into my heart.
Thirteen years ago, I was pregnant at the young age of 18 and due to deliver a baby boy in December. It was a very difficult time for me. It was an unplanned pregnancy for my boyfriend, Carlos and me, and we knew we had big decisions in our very near future. We had just graduated high school and my dreams of college were quickly slipping away. I desperately wanted to be a mother to this baby I loved so much, but I knew that babies could not survive on love alone. We decided it would be foolish not to consider adoption. Still, we struggled with the choice- how do you choose a family that is right for your baby? It wasn’t long before that question was answered.
Lisa was my aunt’s sister-in-law. She and her husband, Al were awaiting the arrival of a baby girl they were to adopt in the summer of 1997, but when the baby was born, the mother changed her mind and the adoption fell through. They were heart-broken. I had just shared my pregnancy news with my mother when I was told of their story. In their sorrow, I heard the gentle whisper of the Lord; this was the loving couple He had created for my son. I wish that I could tell you it was a moment of joy, but I was truly overwhelmed with sadness for I finally understood that he was not meant to be my son, though he would always be just that in my heart. I pushed through my sadness and shared my revelation with Carlos. He agreed and we shared our decision with our families and Lisa and Al. They were over the moon, but cautious – their scars were still healing from the last baby they gave their hearts to. I included them in as much of the pregnancy as I could, but I made sure to treasure the moments that remained with my sweet baby boy. As the leaves of fall began to change and the temperature gradually cooled, I would often visit the neighborhood park and sit quietly beside the pond with my arms tightly wrapped around my belly, as though I could keep him there forever. I would whisper all my hopes and dreams to him, and he always seemed to stir at just the right time, as if to acknowledge my love for him. I spent much of the fall lost in these precious moments, but they passed far too quickly. The minutes turned to hours, hours to days, and days to weeks. As the mild Texas winter came, so did our baby boy. On December 8, 1997, Zach was born.
It was an emotional day; the proverbial rollercoaster of elation and fear and sorrow. I had been so anxious to meet him, but the excitement was over shadowed by my fear; it felt like the beginning of the end. Amidst a roomful of people, the nurse placed him in my arms and all the world faded away along with my sadness. It was just the two of us. I knew our time was short, but how could I be sad with this beautiful child, this gift from God in my arms? He was absolutely perfect and I knew the Lord had great plans for him though I would watch from a distance.
The days that followed passed very quickly and before I knew it, the day had come for me to go home. I chose not to see him the morning I left. I wasn’t sure I could say goodbye, though at the time, I thought I would see him soon and often. It was a verbal arrangement made between Lisa, Al, and I. We would see them as I always had, at occasional family dinners, graduations, and weddings. Unfortunately, life seldom goes according to plan.
Christmas came and went, the saddest I had ever had. And then another and another. I learned to live with a giant whole in my heart. Carlos and I married in May of 2002. Still, we had not seen Zach and heard very little about him. He was doing well, we knew, and even had a sister now, Lydia who was also adopted and the same age as Zach, but it was all second-hand information. Following Zach’s birth and adoption, Lisa grew very distant and withdrew from all contact. All we could do was give her space. I thought for sure it was temporary, but years went by and we were always told the time wasn’t right. We could only wait. I clung to mementos from his birth and a few precious pictures I had collected from random places over the years. These and the daily prayers of my hopeful heart were all I had.
Twelve falls have come and gone, followed in the usual way by winter, and many things have changed. We have since been blessed with the birth of three more boys, and are living far from our home state of Texas as a Coast Guard family. But no matter where I had been, when September rolled around and the trees began to change, I had always found a quiet place in God’s wondrous world to send my whispers out hoping they would stir his heart as they had before.
God never leaves prayers unanswered or promises un-kept.
Now, another fall and winter come, but our thirteenth Christmas will not be spent without Zach or his sister, Lydia. Following the tragic loss of their mother to an inoperable brain tumor this September, we were reunited with Zach and his family. I cannot understand the need for the loss of Lisa, but as God so often does, he has created new hope from the ashes of this tragedy. Lisa has left a new hole that will never be filled, but together, Al, Carlos, and I are redefining a family for our children with a special place for everyone, surrounded in love and grounded in faith. It’s an exciting new chapter in our lives and the first of many Christmases in which we will count our many blessings and cherish each moment we have together.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Little Noah Biorkman
I received a message on Facebook last week via "Status Update" about a little boy named Noah Biorkman. This one little blurb has been on my mind since, and then today I came across a Facebook Event Invitation from another Facebook friend sharing further details of his story. http://www.facebook.com/home.php#/event.php?eid=177509260842&ref=mf
Little Noah is a 5 year old from South Lyon, MI who has been fighting Neuroblastoma, the most common cancer in childhood and infancy [according to Wikipedia], since he was diagnosed in February of 2007. A long fight for a child so young! He was declared to be in remission in August 2007. Unfortunately, his family was recently told, following a relapse in September 2008 and six different trials to prevent the cancer from spreading to no avail, that Noah's battle will soon be coming to an end. Despite this unimaginable and devastating news, the family has chosen to spend their final days with Noah celebrating the birth of Our Savior a little early. the family's celebration begins next week, as we prepare for our Thanksgiving. Noah has expressed a desire for one simple gift... Christmas cards sent to him from around the world.
My family sent a card to Noah Biorkman a few days ago, and I'm asking you to do the same, to remind this family that the prayers for their son are many. Please, take a moment and send one. It is a small and inexpensive gift that would mean the world to one small child.
Noah Biorkman
1141 Fountain View Circle
South Lyon, MI 48178 USA
I, like so many, am in awe and inspired by the Biorkman family. Though I see little to celebrate, their courage and strength in facing a disease as terrible as Cancer is great, even when it is a losing battle. When I see the picture posted of Noah, I see my boys, just your average kids with all the world to live for, and I am reminded of how precious it all is. It could just as easily be someone posting messages about my family asking them to help us celebrate our last Christmas together. Noah's family is not alone; you need only take a look at the St. Jude Children's Research Hospital or the Make-A-Wish Foundation's websites to see just how many families are struggling to battle these childhood illnesses.
It just doesn't seem fair! Strike that... it isn't fair! Not that anyone deserves to battle through any disease, but it is absolutely heart wrenching to hear of children that must muster the strength to live with the daily pain that often comes with an chronic illness of this magnitude. Afterall, what can you say about the diseases we call Cancer? The truth is there is nothing to say that hasn't already been said a thousand times. There are 650 new cases reportedly annually in the U.S. of Neuroblastoma alone, 50 percent of which occur in children under the age of two. While some types of this and other Cancers are curable, a child diagnosed with it is still in for the fight of their lives, many times for their lives.
Noah's story reminds me of a little girl named Christina, whose story I heard years ago as a child. It was just before Christmas. I couldn't have been more than 8, and I was having trouble sleeping one night. I woke my brother (for the company) and we sat under our Christmas tree to watch TV. My brother, who was just a year younger than me, fell fast asleep, but I kept searching the channels for something, anything interesting to watch. I remember catching the middle of a program similar to Dateline about children fighting Cancer. They were following several children's story, but one in particular stuck with me. It was a little girl about my age named Christina. The details are a bit hazy, but her face remains plastered in my mind with the biggest smile you've ever seen on her face. Throughout the program, they shared how she loved to smile and make others smile, even on her sickest, weakest days. She battled her disease, of which type now escapes me, for years, all the while bringing laughter to the hospital in which she lived. She told jokes, drew colorful pictures, and brightened the days of the other children, as well as the docotrs and nurses. One day, she and the other children were on their way back home [to the hospital] from a party, and exhausted little Christina lay down to take a short nap in the back of the van. Christina never woke up. Tears rolled down my eight year old little cheeks and I couldn't stop sobbing. The world had suffered a great loss. I don't know that I fully understood her story at the time, but something touched me that night. I still think of Christina every Christmas, and I'm reminded to pray for the families of the children whose great smiles and love touch the lives of people even though their lives are short.
Noah is that kind of child, and I know that as young as he is, he has touched many people with his little life. My hope is that his parents carry that with them for the rest of theirs.
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