It's the little things

They say (whoever 'they' are), that you shouldn't let the little things get to you.

Well I say that's nonsense. Because as I've been reflecting on what I would to write for a Christmas letter (if I could get around to such a thing), is that if it weren't for the "little things", I would feel I had nothing to show for this year.

You see, it's the little things that remind me that somehow I have made the transition from kid to grown-up. The transition from career woman to mom. Little things like...

* when I find myself on those rarest of occasions, driving alone in a car.... that I can drive ten minutes before realizing that I am still singing along to the kids CD,
* or on that same trip, that I point out garbage trucks and dogs and busses and Other Things Of Little Kid Interest... even when there's no one there.
* or that I have acquired a surprising repertoire of little boy skills. I can tell the difference between an articulated dump truck, a skid steer, a grader or a scraper at 100 paces.
* or that, when ordering on a menu, what I'm willing to eat 1) cold and 2) as left-overs after my kids have rejected it ranks highly in my decision making.
* or that, when spot cleaning yet another mark on the floor, I find sometimes it is easier to spit on the said spot to help loosen the grime than to go and wet the rag again. Okay, maybe that's not being a mommy, maybe that's just gross. But still...

But it's also the little things that make this all worth while. This year of 'not accomplishing much'. My (mostly unused) google+ profile marks my job as "opposer of entropy", because my job at home is to "hold back the chaos". And the thing about holding back the chaos, is that at the end of a "successful" day.... all you have to show for it is... hopefully nothing! Or at least, a minimal encroachment of chaos.

And so I need the little things to remind me that the minutes inbetween are valuable and joyful.

I need little things like celebrating that yesterday, on day 16 of potty training, Callum was wearing the same clothes at bed time as he first was wearing when he woke up. No poopy pants! Yeah!

I celebrate little things like Tegwyn telling me what she's been praying for: "Mama, I prayed to God in my bed that (baby) Little would grow big and strong and would love us. And I prayed that Little would serve God and also serve me."

I celebrated getting to see a picture of baby Little's profile wriggling around in me in this weeks' ultrasound.














I appreciate little things like every single Christmas card we get in the mail, which remind me that in the midst of this me-centric and kids-centric life, there are people out there that we love and who love us.

I appreciate little things like despite the fact that the potato-printing craft Teg had been begging to do took 10 minutes to set up and nearly 20 minutes to clean up:
















.... This is how proud and happy Teg looked at the end of the 8 minutes the activity lasted.


















It's little things like Jeremy coming home an hour early from work, and the kids squealing with delight to see him.


It's little things like finding my kids playing together, sharing and laughing and using their imaginations.
It's little things like the fun of Christmas hats.


















I think that's what Colossians 3:17 means when it says, "Whatever you do, whether eating or drinking (i.e. the little things!), do it all for the glory of God, giving thanks to Him through Christ Jesus."

Have yourselves a merry little Christmas, friends.