Normalcy at Christmastime - and yet ...

2 days  until Christmas. 

So naturally, the writer in me needs to write. The mama in me needs to remember - all these little moments, that have so quickly become my normal nighttime routine. 

He's nearly asleep but not even. I lay him in his bed, to run downstairs and grab his teething carrot by the sink. I know the drill. He will lay in bed and destroy it until he drifts off to sleep.

I glance outside, the snow is falling, like a true white Christmas. It's magical. Snow covered cars as people begin their Christmas hibernation. 

My baby's wide awake when I give him his carrot. As I leave and head downstairs, I hear his loud chattering begin. Oh boy. Here we go. Cheers of joy and pondering drift down the stairs.

And I begin the routine. 

Is it weird to say I used to dream about this routine? Not just doing this somewhere else, but in my own home? 

The toys thrown easily into the basket. Board books lined back up next to it. They're stacked under the coffee table. He's a fast crawler now. Everything must be ready for him.

I reassemble his wooden alphabet and place it back on the side table. It's a side table with a bottom shelf and I was not prepared for him to throw his wooden puzzle aside during bible study last week and decide to crawl onto the bottom shelf himself. 

My head spins and I realize, somehow, I need to dig out more food for myself. Because this mama cannot keep up with the food demands for herself when nursing. It's exhausting to try to come up with a thousand healthy, ready to go, snacks. 

Christmas stockings, waiting. 

My husband finished some of the family gift wrapping tonight, only for our child take over the production and give him a run for his money during it. 

I throw my crochet into the basket - I'm so into the hat I'm crocheting for Sam but unfortunately, my yarn is nearly out. And to try to buy anything tomorrow, on Christmas Eve, is unthinkable. 

Cinnamon rolls, peppermint fudge - I made those today.

All in a day's work.

All in a days work prepping for Christmas on Christmas week. 

But this beautiful little routine in the midst of it. Evening with Sam and our son. Bath time for Edmund. Bedtime for Edmund and tidying the little messes around the house from him routine on my part. 

It's warm, cozy, and full of blessedness. These little works of joy we get to do for our family. 

And these little extra joys, like Christmas desserts, Christmas gifts, little blessings we get to do for others - hopefully do not replace the real Blessing and Gift we are to remember in this season. He also came down in normalcy but it was all for something much, much deeper than that. 

Maybe that's the thing. Maybe everything that we think is so normal, so mundane - is just a bit more than that. 

There are no more chatters and thoughts coming from the crib upstairs. It is quiet now as I type. Everything my little boy does, he does with everything in him. And right now, he is sleeping with everything in him. 

Like the world as the snow falls, sleeps tonight, dreaming of...Christmas? 

Or of what is to come, that Christmas points to? 

The coming of our King