I'm a little sick from this emotional rollercoaster I've been on for the past 24 hours or so. It would have been much better with cotton candy or a corn dog or something.
I had about two hours to recover myself yesterday after the horrible news before Casey had to go back to work. I'd pretty well committed myself to lame-o parenting for the remainder of the evening in a poor attempt to conceal just how torn up I was about the whole thing. We were for sure going to watch Caillou's Christmas movie and go to bed early.
But on his way to work, I got a call from my husband.
"So... you might want to bundle up the kids and come to the pool house."
Slowly, and after much internal debate, I did. And it was so, totally, beyond worth it.
Because as it turns out, Santa makes a little appearance in our neighborhood.
Accompanied, of course, by coccoa, home-made cookies, and horse-drawn carriage rides through the neighborhood - complete with caroling teenagers. Yes, seriously.
For the last three years or so, when we load up the car to look at Christmas lights, I've said that we should drive through the potential neighborhoods we were considering moving to. It's just smart - I mean, if they have lots of lights, it's got to be a good place to be, right?
But never, ever in my wildest dreams would I have imagined something like this. I mean really. Where does something like that actually happen??
It turns out... in my neighborhood. Have I mentioned that I love our house?
I didn't get any pictures of the kids with Santa, but Leah did so amazingly well. She told him about her letter, and about the toy she wants for Christmas. She was so excited, and spoke politely and just like a big kid.
It was an incredible blessing. Even though there is so much to do to get this house in shape, we could not have picked a better place to live. And it was a much needed reminder about how much beauty, wonder, and good there is in this world. I've never stopped believing it. It just helps to be reminded sometimes.
I mean, Santa stopped by. C'mon...