The Naming of Our New House + St. Nick Day
Hai thurh.
Mr. Lexington is in wonderment of this Advent season. Since our recent move into the city (and by city, I mean town: farm equipment in the roads, horse-drawn carriage parades), the Christmas lights abound, and at night, the streets are aglow with a pinkish tint that makes everything seem cozier.
Moving from Bumpy Bridge, it was just black outside and we had no idea what was going on weather-wise until the morning. So, having such revolutionary technologies as street lamps and neighbors who decorate their house is very exciting, and my people have much to observe.
As we know, Lexington is responsible for the naming of Bumpy Bridge. We’ve given him the task of naming our new house, and here are some of the runners up:
- New House
- Toy House
- Smoky Bones
- Lunch House
The winner?
Happy House
Complete with padded rooms and restraint tables.
Happy House is still in Beta mode, and Lexington slips up and calls it Bumpy Bridge from time to time so we’ll see if I can’t suggest something a little less Arsenic & Old Lace.
How did St. Nicholas day go-or-not-go with your family? 4 Years later, I remembered to say something about it to my people. Catechizing my family: the success story, right here, folks.
Since Lexington was born, Craig and I agreed that we didn’t like the idea of Santa Claus in the secular view of Christmas, but instead, we would teach our boys about the real St. Nicholas, and of the spirit of gift giving without expecting anything in return, even praise for such a generous deed.
Here’s the extent of Lexington’s knowledge thus far:
Carolyn: Lexington, what can you tell me about St. Nicholas?
Lexington: I can’t.
Carolyn: You’re telling me after everything we talked about, you don’t know anything?
Lexington: Yep. I don’t know.
…kay.
I am still getting over my cold, but I must say, if you ever need to grow up really quick, try parenthood. There’s nothing like gagging on phlegm, turning to barf full-throttle into the kitchen sink, looking up, wearily and no one has noticed.
But hey, “give me juice please mom!”
“Okay.” and back to business as usual.
The vomiting into the sink and having no one notice is a beautiful mark of true and selfless motherhood. I love it. It’s funny and sweet. A small antidote to share with your little men in future years.
Anecdote!
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