It always happens.  Every year it happens.  There is one day in the Christmas season where I lose it.  I go into an emotional tailspin, stressing over the things I need to do that I haven't done yet.  Last minute presents for the girls, cookies for loved ones, the special little touches that will make Christmas perfect.  Yesterday was that day for me this year - everything just came crashing down when I realized that it's a mere three days until Christmas Day and I am not ready.  I am not prepared.  And I did not respond to this stress well.  I snapped at the girls and at Steve.  I sat in a chair and thought to myself, "I just wish Christmas was over!"  And, I burst into tears.  Because I'm wired the way I am, my tears didn't last long.  I took a deep breath and decided I would just plug along and work as hard as I could.  I would plow through the drudgery.  Not exactly the happy spirit of anticipation that Advent is supposed to be, is it?

A while later, Abigail climbed up in my lap, carrying a book.  "Read me?  Read me?".  The book she found and brought out to me was this one:



My sister gave me this book  seven years ago when Ruby was five months old.  It is a very simple, beautifully-illustrated story about a lamb who is at the right place at the right time, doing what he was always meant to do.  Following God's plan.  It always, always makes me cry.  Every time I read it.  I try and make it through the pages without my voice catching and my eyes filling with tears.  I just can't do it.  And last night was no exception.  But, more than my usual tears, last night as I read it, it brought a heart-warming, stress-reducing message.  It is not my job to create a perfect Christmas.  Not my job, not my responsibility.  See, the perfect Christmas was taken care of 2000 plus years ago, in a simple manager in Bethlehem.  Whether I bake cookies or not;  whether I find the perfect gift for everyone on my list;  whether I get Christmas cards out before the 25th or after; whether I pull off the perfect Christmas eve dinner between the girls' naps and our candlelight church service.  Not one bit of that is going to make Christmas any more or less perfect.  I do have one responsibility, though, that is uniquely mine.  And that is to share the feeling of antipation of the night of Jesus' birth with my daughters.  To tell them and remind them that the beauty of the season is a very simple story about the birth of a baby.  And, I think I've managed to do that, with a lot of help from Steve, and the amazing influence of their Sunday School teachers.  Make no mistake about it:  the girls are excited about Santa coming and every day share with us what they think that Santa is going to bring them.  They are just as likely, though, to talk about Jesus and Mary and Joseph.   To tell the story of the Wise Men.  To sing Away In A Manager. 

So, today, my stress is greatly eased.  (I won't lie - a touch of it is still there - I am a chronic over-doer).  I will try and remember that I have done what I need to do to prepare for the birthday celebration and that everything else that I get done at this point is just frosting on the cake.  And if I need a little reminder, I'll just go and read The Crippled Lamb again.  And again.  And again!!!

Here's a couple of pictures from yesterday:


Abigail still pulling ornaments off of the tree!



Gracie working on her advent calendar - I had grand plans to make this elaborate one out of scrapping supplies and felt.  I never got around to it and I'm so glad!  She has loved this one that she got at Sunday school on the first day of Advent.  It is the perfect calendar for her...





Putting the angel on the tree:





And the ornaments the girls gave to their Sunday school teachers.





I hope you have a blessed and stree-free day!