Christmas. Finally.

Christmas mornings are a little atypical in the Gilbaugh household. Like many things, I suppose. For starters, we don't do Christmas early. Nope, no rushing, no waking, no early morning anticipation. We do slow mornings around here. Mom is finishing her work out. Samuel, Andrew, and Alissa are still sleeping quite soundly. The little boys are cuddled up with a book on the couch or wrestling on the living room carpet (not so slow, I guess). But for the most part, morning are quite round these parts. And I'm thinking this morning that that's appropriate. The house is still and quiet, except for a few of my favorite things…

Charlie Brown Christmas album playing in the background. Vince Gauraldi, you know how to do it.

Christmas cookies are on the island in the kitchen and if Sam and I have anything to do with it, there won't be any left by noon.

Our tree is quirky and just a bit silly, I think. But I love it. I love every bear ornament (yes…we only have ornaments that have bears on them on our tree…) because each one tells a story of a Christmas past or a vacation spent or a day of my parents early years with no money and lots of bliss.

I've played countless board games this morning and have yet to win a single one.

Emma is trying to sneak gifts into our stockings, but sneaking anything in a house of eleven is quite a feat.

Christmas books from my childhood are scattered all over this house. Their covers are worn and tattered, and the pages are as well loved as the characters they hold.

B and D will be here soon. And they make the family complete.

All these things are proof to me that Christmas is really here. I was telling my mom last night that I was a bit disappointed in Christmas this year because I'm just not really feeling it - "there's no magic" I told her. She just laughed at me. I think it's that there's no snow. Seriously, sky? Give us just a pinch! But despite the green grass outside, this little list of Christmas ideals remind me that it's here. That He's here. That the day we waited for brings to us the One we waited for. That finally, somewhere in the darkness of midnight, God brought to us Light. When we were cold and alone, we were Emmanuel-ed, and God brought Himself near.

God with us. God in us. God for us.

Merry Christmas.