Now I'm an adult and well on my way into motherhood I think about my own childhood and wonder about all that I was oblivious to that my parents must have struggled with over the years. I know there must have been trials and no small number of them. We moved a lot and my dad had a stressful occupation, and I understand now how those factors alone must have lead my parents to significant amounts of worry and strain. And those are just the most obvious stressors. I know that's only the beginning of all the ups and downs that they experienced while I was young. However, as a kid I was totally oblivious to that. They filled our home with joy in spite of what else might have been going on. We laughed a lot and played together, prayed together, hugged each other, and were each others best friends. My parents were firm believers in the good that "wholesome recreational activities" could provide for a family and we spent hours building relationships by getting out and enjoying life together. I felt deeply loved and safe and when I was occasionally afraid, the fear was always ultimately "swallowed up" by my knowledge that my family was there for me. I want so very much to give my children that same gift. And so even though in December Benjamin couldn't sleep (he was having truly terrible insomnia) and I was working extra days and we both felt the full weight of our uncertain financial future, we tried to make December full of joy anyway. And with these sweet boys, the joyful moments came readily when we opened ourselves to them.
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