Mystery

Starting the advent season, and lighting the first candle tonight (instead of last night, because I, ahem, didn't actually have a wreath until today), I watched my two-year-old gaze around the table in wonder and puzzlement as we lit the candle and sang 'O Come, O Come Emmanuel'.  He kept looking from the flame, to me, to his dad, to his brother and back to the candle.  He is normally full of noise and wiggles, but tonight he sat still in wonder at our liturgy.  Next year, he may recognize the candles, he may know some of the songs, and he might sing along.  Only 18 months older, and now Ethan sits and answers our questions -- "What does Emmanuel mean?"  "Who is the light of the world?".  Matthew sits and stares.

I love the look of discovery and awe during Christmas that little ones can't fake.  It makes me think of how confused everyone must have been when God told them that Jesus was going to be born, that His son was a baby on the earth, or when He told Mary she was going to be His mother.  Can you think of getting news like that?  I imagine they might have looked, even for just a second, a bit like my toddler sitting at the dinner table wondering what in the world we are doing.

Tonight, we light the first candle of advent, the prophesy candle.  We light a candle to remind us that Jesus is the Light of the world.  The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.

Stolen Moments

Oh what to do with my second-born child?  Adventurous and always pushing boundaries, he's much more inquisitive and care-free than his brother, and he's never known a time when mom hasn't been busy with two children, so he's able to get away with much of his inquisitiveness, often until it is too late and I am the one who has trouble.



Today we went to CVS to pick up a few St. Patrick's Day essentials (you know, silly hats and beads and what not), and we checked out at the counter where Ethan charmed the cashier and Matthew sat patiently in his stroller singing a little ditty to himself while I paid for our things.  Or so I thought.  We walked out of the store and were about 10 feet down the sidewalk when Ethan innocently asked, "Does Matthew have candy?".  I had made the executive decision in CVS not to buy any candy, even though the Swedish Fish always taunt me, so no, Matthew did not have any candy.  Again, though: "Matthew has candy."  This is when I decided it would be best to stop sorting change, shuffling bags and actually look through the little plastic window in the top of the stroller and notice that Matthew had a nice little chocolate bar, halfway unwrapped, but as of yet uneaten.  Instantly mortified, I wondered how many people in that CVS just watched my son shoplift and wondered if I was letting him do it or if I was just an oblivious, scatter-brained mom.  I actually hoped, for the first time in my life, that people assumed I was the latter.

So we immediately turned around, went back up to the register and explained ourselves.  Well, I explained myself and Matthew threw a fit because I took his candy away.  The lady sort of chuckled as I got out a couple of dollars to pay for the chocolate.  That's when it happened:  the cashier said, "That'll be $3.52, please."

Three dollars and fifty-two cents for a candy bar.  I'm pretty sure my jaw actually physically dropped while I searched for a $5 to cover the damage.  You see, my son wasn't interested in just any candy bar.  No.  He selected the dark-chocolate, raspberry-filled Godiva chocolate bar.

At least no one can say that he has bad taste.  And lets just say that after paying that much for a candy bar, I wasn't too keen on sharing it with my little thief, cute though he may be.

Play Kitchens

I know there are at least a few people who read my blog that will appreciate these:

So cool!

I want to make one for the boys!

I mean, how many junky old entertainment centers can you find just sitting on Craigslist or Freecycle for nearly nothing?! Project of 2010!

HT: The Common Room