The Christmas Museum

We like to visit a place called the "Christmas Museum" on Christmas Eve. It's a little tradition Derrick and I started while we were dating, and it's one of our favorites. We always try to get others to go....we tell them all about it and why it's crazy and fun...but it's always just us (well, and 100 other strangers) who go visit this little house in Englewood that is over-done with sugary-sweet, over-the-top, weird and crazy Christmas decorations. And I like it that way.

Really, there are no words to describe the house. You just have to go. And it's crazy. And we go every year and we love it and we love it even more now that we have Eliana to enjoy it with us. I love that there are things in the world that just don't make sense but they are neat and impressive and inspiring in their own way....and on a few days of the year they are just absolutely perfect. We call it the Christmas Museum (our little name, not an official title) because it's just kind of everything all thrown in one place for the world to see. And that's kind of how I'd like to see Mr. Pope and myself in about 40 years. Hopefully we'll be so lucky as to have a ton of memories and crazy stories and funny moments (and Harley Davidson stuffed animals? Haha) to throw out there for the world to see. We're making our own little Christmas Museum. Awwwww.

We had a wonderful holiday. We have been truly blessed with great family, generous gifts, and tons of delicious food. A few favorite memories that I'll attempt to hold close as long as my pregnant brain will allow will be Eliana's new baby "Bob" and how he distracted her from appreciating ANYTHING else for 24 hours, Derrick's excitment to take Ellie down to the tree this morning, laughing my face off with my brothers, my Grandma Doris breaking out the sewing maching after 30 years to make the bug and me matching kitchen aprons (Eliana's apron below: so cute!!)....lots of things.

Wishing everyone a happy holiday season.

We've got Spirit, Yes We Do!

I'm rather excited about this Christmas, for lots of little reasons. One, Eliana is old enough to kind of understand how fun it will be. She LOVES the lights and the decorations and the big, blow-up snowman in our neighbor's yard. Every time we turn on the lights on our tree we get a big "Wow" out of her. That makes Christmas better. Having a little munchkin to really find the magic in it.

But second, and really most importantly, I feel like this year our little family is a real family. Real enough to be in our own house on Christmas morning instead of running to all the parent's homes for Christmas wishes and presents and meals. This is a big deal. A very big deal. We have A LOT of family. And we love them. But, it's exciting to be our own family and start to make our own holiday traditions. I'm so excited for Eliana to run down to the tree and open her presents, for Derrick and me to make caramel french toast for breakfast, and to listen to Christmas music in my jammies.

We've put up the tree, planned some fun events with friends and family, and are slowly but surely getting ready for a fun little holiday. It's like my own little present to myself.

The Little Things

Sometimes big events make you appreciate the little things. If it hadn't been strikingly obvious from my previous post, last week was a hard week. My grandfather, with whom I was very close despite his lack of verbal communication, died on Sunday, Dec. 7th. He was 88 and lead an incredible life that has always inspired me.

Dr. Harold Bowman was born in China to missionary parents who believed the world could be a better place. He always had charity and hard work in his heart. He was well educated, receiving his Ph.D. by the time he was 30 and spent the majority of his academic career right here in Colorado as a professor at the University of Northern Colorado. He was handy and crafty and full of little jokes if you were quiet enough to catch them.

It broke my heart to see him go. But in the days that followed we planned a beautiful service and I was able to be thankful for all of the many blessings in my life and all the little inspirations that find me everyday. Elle made it through a whole day of family and car trips and long meals and quiet services without a meltdown. She made every sad face smile with her funny personality and innate curiosity. And Derrick took on a whole day of baby wrangling without missing a beat. I wasn't the kind of day you'd ask for, but it was a beautiful day with a beautiful family and that made everything better.

Ellie did crash, but once we got home. Sweet little thing.

Why Blogging is Dumb & Why I'm Compelled to Do It

So, I'll say it. "Sometimes I get lonely." It's not something that I like to admit. It doesn't make me feel happy when confronted with the thought of it, but it is realistic. The transition from being "part of the world," as I like to call it, to being a Stay-At-Home-Mom (see how confining just the title is!?!) has been full of ups and downs. Mostly ups, really, as there is no greater reward for me than to be with my darling bug and making a happy life for my hard-working husband. I choose this life every single day and I know I've made the right decision.

That's all well and good. But sometimes I get lonely. So when the family is busy, and my friends are at work or taking care of their kids, and the husband it hard at work, and the bug is sleeping, I wonder what to do with the thoughts in my head. So, here we are. Blogging. Hmmm.

Blogging is dumb because it assumes that everyone else is really super excited to know those random thoughts in your head. And the truth is they are not. People have too much going on in their own lives. I absolutely believe that. But, all the things going on in all of our lives are the same things going on in everyone else's lives, too. It's true. And scary.

So, while Blogging is dumb, it's also interesting. And maybe it brings us together. And maybe it shares all the common thoughts in our collective heads that we think we don't have time to share. And maybe it will help one stay-at-home-mom feel less lonely when the mood is set to strike. We will see.