The story of us, November, 2011:
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As I readied the house for guests this week, I was reminded again of how much there is to learn about life each and every day. My teachers? My daughters. I ripped through the house like a tornado; tasks tediously completed and checked off the to-do list one-by-one. When it came time for pulling out the Christmas decorations, their little faces lit up. I saw it as one more thing on my list of to-do’s, but to them, it’s magic. It’s a feeling. It’s a memory. So while my shopping list sat neglected on the counter, we sat together and I told them stories about how we acquired each ornament, each stocking, each chubby Santa and every cheesy snowman tchotchke I haven’t put out our Christmas village in years, but my 5 year old was so enamored, I let her set it up herself. I loved watching her carefully unwrap and purposefully pose each little person. And when she was done, I tried to keep from rearranging the pieces myself and admired the beauty that she created herself. I remember setting it up with my mom when I was her age. I remember feeling like Christmas was magical and amazing and full of love. Later, I caught my daughter daydreaming and when I asked her what she was thinking about, she told me she was watching to see if the rain would magically turn into snow so we could sit and have hot chocolate together instead of going for groceries. We live in Western Washington. Snow is not all that common here this time of year. We had our hot chocolate though and swapped stories and made memories together that afternoon. I hope she felt as special to me as she is
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