Christmas comes on Thursday


Two things this deployment has cured me of:

1) my obsession with everything happening in order and on time.

I used to be a purist. Gifts should be opened on Christmas morning while listening to Kenny G, after consuming a buffet of made-from-scratch breakfast and sipping eggnog. Only this year we didn’t even wait for December 25th, I watched the morning news on four hours of sleep while downing three cups of coffee, and eating cinnamon rolls from a can. It was heavenly. No, really. It was.

2) Any modesty I might have had about posting a million photos of Christmas morning on my blog.

This day isn’t about the gifts at all, so I prefer not to post a lot of photos where they are the focus. However, having their Daddy unhappily absent on possibly the most important day of the year changes the perspective on things. A lot. I ache for him to experience every moment, even the ones that aren’t the real reason for the season.

Fortunately I pared the million down to these few.

278 131 094 241 250 255 280

And the absolute best part of the day:



Daddy said…
Wish I could have been there for all the paper-ripping, cinnamon bun-eating, and coffee-downing fun. I love and miss you all.
Marian Frizzell said…
wish I could give you all huge hugs. I teared up reading this and went and gave Josh a hug--praying for Caleb's safe and quick return. You are being held in my heart.
Elisa said…
This time the tears did come.