Category: Parenting

Occasionally Clint comes home to the kind of house the biblical womanhood books urge us to cultivate—peaceful, joyful, and in order.  Often he comes home to the slightly more frazzled version.  But every now and then he comes home to the blank-faced, empty-eyed, wife-of-exhaustion home.  Last week I had one of those nights.  If I was a punching bag I’d have been entirely flat.  All done.  He found me sweaty and woefully shower-deprived, chopping sweet potatoes in the kitchen, vacantly wondering if one roasted starch could qualify as dinner.  Clint took one look at me and said, “Why don’t you go out for dinner tonight?  I’ll feed the kids and put them to bed.”

For a moment I thought the clouds might part and a dove descend from heaven.  “Are you serious?”  Before he could answer (or change his mind) I was in and out of the shower, running out the front door with soaking wet hair and the first pair of clothes I could find.

“Where are you going to eat?”  Clint called.

I flashed him a mile-long smile.  “I don’t care!!”

For an hour and a half I enjoyed sushi, shrimp, and sweet silence.  But here is a really honest admission—sometimes, even in the oasis, I feel anxiety.  I think it’s because deep down I’m afraid I will always end up back here, in this place of depletion and discouragement.  And I want to grow past that.  After all, I’m an overcomer in Christ.  I have two beautiful children who are watching me.  And let’s be honest—there’s not always going to be a Japanese steakhouse when I need it.

So the question I’ve been asking myself is what drives me to this point?  When I was a teacher there were stressful days, but I never felt like a coma would be welcome relief.  I don’t know if it’s the ultimate answer, but one of the conclusions I’ve drawn is that parenthood is just different from any other vocational calling.  Most jobs allow for a sense of separation.  You clock in and clock out.  You maintain personal boundaries.  You become as emotionally invested {or detached} as you want.

And then along come children, and in five seconds flat they invade all of you, running full speed ahead into your heart, your mind, your life, and occasionally your shower.  I used to think that after having kids Clint and I would still sometimes live like we didn’t have them.  Maybe we’d go on a romantic vacation, or hire a sitter and go out with friends.  And we did.  But what I didn’t realize is that once you have kids, they are always a part of you.  Even when they’re not around physically, you think about them, pray for them, wonder if Grandma remembered to put their toe medication on before bed.  They are woven into your DNA.  It’s surreal and precious.  It’s the reason I cry every time another candle on the birthday cake reminds me that they’ll one day be grown.

And at the same time, it’s challenging.  Kids don’t ask for a portion of your heart or a little bit of your effort.  They ask for all of you.  They need all of you.  When you want to burst into tears because you just had a fight with a friend, they’re right there beside you wanting to know—“Why are you crying?  What’s wrong?  Explain it to me, Mom.  Help me understand this world, Mom.  I’m hungry, Mom.  Meet my needs, Mom.  Be there for me, Mom.”

But here’s the game changer.  You and I have a Parent, too.  And unlike us, He’s perfect.  The Bible says, “To all who received Him, to those who believed in His name, He gave the right to become children of God” (John 1:12-13).  If you have taken Christ at His Word, surrendering your life to Him because you believe He is who He says He is, then you are His child.  Which means you are allowed to run into His arms and burst into tears just like your baby runs into yours.  And boy are the arms of Jesus tender.  In Matthew 23, even as He is rebuking Jerusalem, Jesus says, “Jerusalem, Jerusalem, you who kill the prophets and stone those sent to you, how often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, but you were not willing.”

O Jesus, I am willing.  I am willing to be gathered into your arms.  I am willing to find strength in Your strength (Eph 6:10) and rest in Your rest (Matt 11:28-30).  I am willing—I am longing—to be parented by You.

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Before I ever had a single child, I knew that one day I would wage war with an enemy who sought their hearts and souls.  I anticipated battles ahead, knowing my children would test and defy me.  But I never anticipated the Mommy wars.  I think I watched part of an Oprah episode years ago on competitive moms, but that was about it.  I didn’t give it a second thought.  Not until I joined the club.

Let me begin by saying, the Mommy Club is a beautiful place.  The moment you join, you find within your heart this unexpectedly raw capacity for love.  All at once, you are a protector, a nurturer, a defender of innocence, a storyteller, an imagination factory, a kisser of boo-boos, and a cheerleader forever.  Even on the scrape-me-off-the-floor-with-a-spatula days, you are being sanctified and learning to see God’s grace in a brand new light.  It is a special club, one I’m humbled and grateful to be part of.

But I’ll be honest, there’s one aspect of membership I don’t like to talk about.  It’s the insecurity that bloomed inside of me somewhere along the journey.  I felt it the first time I didn’t know how to soothe my own baby.  The first time I couldn’t get her to eat her green bean goo.  The first time she wandered out of my sight in public.  I don’t know exactly when the quiet voice began to whisper, do you even know what you’re doing?  But I do know that initial thought was just a stone’s throw away from this one: That mom sure looks like she knows what she’s doing.  And then there was the really quiet thought that always buried itself in a place I would never share with anyone: Maybe she’s a better mom than you.  

Here’s my humble opinion: I think that thought is the deceptive heartbeat behind all the mommy wars.  I think deep down many of us are just a little bit afraid that someone else is doing a better job at this whole thing than we are.  We see All-Natural-Organic Mom who tills her own grains in the backyard, and Educational-Crafty Mom whose newborn knows sign language, and Just-Stepped-Out-of-a-Magazine Mom with super cute clothes and baby Gap model babies…and we cannot help but notice all the ways we fall short.  So we resort to one of two measures, the first being imitation.

Maybe if I can just be like Super-Fit-and-Sporty Mom with16% body fat and color-coordinated Nike outfits, or Ultra-Organized Mom, or Über-Sweet-and-Godly Mom…  The problem is we quickly realize we cannot be all of them all the time.  The moment we pop on All-Natural-Organic Mom’s hat, we bump into Crafty Mom whose kids have sculpted a miniature Parthenon over the weekend, and we realize our kids have watched twenty hours of television so we could make Larabars from scratch.  And even if by some miracle we can get Healthy Mom jiving with Educational Mom, when we drop off our kids at preschool we’ll immediately notice that Just-Stepped-Out-of-a-Magazine Mom isn’t sporting a crumpled T-shirt with craft glue in her hair.  (And don’t even get me started on what Coupon Mom might think if she saw how much we spent on groceries last week!)

Once we realize we can’t be all of them, we resort to option number two: judgment.  Of course, this is rarely blatant.  I don’t tell Sporty Mom I think she spends too much time at the gym, I tell myself Sporty Mom spends too much time at the gym.  I tell myself it’s okay my abs don’t look like hers because she’s probably not nearly as godly as I am.  I tell myself it’s okay I don’t look as put together as Just-Stepped-Out-of-a-Magazine Mom because she probably spends too much money on clothes anyway.  On and on, I tell myself whatever I think I need to hear to stanch the fear that I don’t measure up.

A few times I’ve seen the mommy wars go viral.  Moms screaming at each other on television.  A Facebook feed that erupts.  A hateful gossip fest.  Here is my theory: I picture the hearts of moms across the world like a really dry forest, the kind that people warn you not to strike a match in.  They are dry because they’re insecure and aching.  They are exhausted and spent.  They are longing to hear that they’re doing a good job, and what’s more to feel like they’re doing a good job.  But because rest and truth and hope can be so hard won, these dry hearts are hazardous.  Flick a spark in their direction and the whole forest can go up in flames.

But what if the hearts of moms were watered.  Not sprinkled every now and then, but watered all the way down to their roots.  What if we knew in the core of our being, that we don’t have to measure up?  What if we knew that Jesus Christ loves and accepts us just as we are?  That He is passionate about our children and will walk beside us, in all our shortcomings, to make us the kind of mom we need to be.  What if we could quit judging Skinny Mom or Healthy Mom or Crafty Mom and instead see them as Real-Human Mom in need of love and encouragement just like us?  Then maybe the next time someone suggests you try her organic Ak-Mak crackers or mentions that she just finished a triathalon, you can smile genuinely because you may have no idea what an Ak-Mak cracker is, but you know who you are.  Accepted.  Redeemed.  Treasured.  One who has been born again to a living hope and an imperishable inheritance.

What do you say, Mom?  How would you like to be Imperfect-Completely-Loved-Free-in-Jesus Mom?  How would you like to be Don’t-Need-to-Play-the-Games Mom?  Capable-of-Genuinely-Loving-Others Mom?  Guess what?  That is exactly what Jesus died to offer you.  Initially when I started thinking about this topic, I wanted to encourage you by telling you all the things I myself long to hear–that you’re doing a great job, you’re the best mom ever, everything’s going to be awesome for you.  But instead, I want to encourage you by telling you something far better: Whether you’re doing a great job or not, Jesus loves you.  You don’t have to be the best mom ever, Jesus accepts you.  And when everything’s not awesome, you always have hope in Jesus.

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10. Because everyone needs a break from the ordinary.

9. Because one day this…
…won’t be nearly so much fun.

8. Because nothing tastes better than food you don’t have to cook.

7. Because blowing up this…                                 …is worth moments like this.

6. Because kids can play in the sand FOR HOURS.

5. Because everybody should have a picture in sunglasses.

4. Because a week with Daddy is worth a smaller paycheck.

3. Because we could all spend more time playing with friends.

2. Because what goes up must come down.

1. And because one day, when you show your kid a picture like this…
…she’ll remember the day it was taken.

Sanibel Island 2012 and Hilton Head 2013

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Today is Mother’s Day and I am thankful for many things.  The way my baby sticks her cutest-feet-in-the-universe right in my face whenever she sees nail polish.  The adoration of a toddler who’s seen me at my worst and for some reason still wants to be just like me.  My own mother, who makes me brave.  The fact that I married a man who’s sensitive enough to show me his heart, but strong enough to take care of mine.

I am thankful for Nutella, and the moms in the grocery store who don’t stare when my kids throw a tantrum, and the miracle of instant streaming.  I’m thankful for this blog, and the inventor of sweat pants, and frozen yogurt you can pretend is good for you.  For older women who don’t panic when I tell them my problems, and young moms who walk alongside me, and single girlfriends who still like to talk about boys.

But of all the things I am grateful for this Mother’s Day, most of all, I am grateful for grace.  Sometimes I think about “high school Jeanne”–who had a heart full of passion, a head full of idealism, and seldom lost her temper–and I wonder where on earth she’s gone.  I wonder how I went from daydreaming about impacting the world for Christ, to fantasizing about toys that pick themselves up, and espresso that can be directly injected into your veins.  The truth is, I have never seen the depth of my own sinfulness and unworthiness with as painful clarity as I’ve seen it in the last few years.  Of course it’s always been there, I’ve just never been “squeezed” enough to let it spew out quite so badly.  Let’s be honest, “high school Jeanne” did not have children who loved to crawl all over her, and test the boundaries, and stick tiny objects into the DVD player.  Instead, she had oodles of free time, and a mom who did her laundry.

But here’s the amazing thing about seeing how incredibly awful you actually are.  It makes grace look BIGGER than it’s ever looked before.  When you have a dirt-high view of your own righteousness, somehow it finally sinks in that you didn’t reach past this tiny gap, up into the presence of God.  Instead, He reached down, down, down, down, down to you.  The gap was gigantic–infinite.  Which means the grace is gigantic.  Infinite.  Now that is a reason to rejoice!  That is cause to smile, and celebrate, and throw your hands up high in worship!

The more I decrease in my own eyes, the more my Savior increases (John 3:30).  And the more I put my hope in Him, the less I have to prove.  I am a weak and sinful mother.  But I have a GREAT and MIGHTY God, who loves me with all His heart.  Today, more than anything, that is what I’m grateful for.  Until I am old and gray, that will be the joy of my heart and the song of my life.

Believe it or not, your chatty toddler is not the most talkative person in your life.  You are.  To quote Paul David Tripp, “No one is more influential in your life than you are, because no one talks to you more than you do.  Whether you realize it or not, you are in an unending conversation with yourself, and the things you say to you about you are formative of the way that you live.”

I’ve been thinking about this statement all week.  And I find it very unsettling.  The more I analyze my thoughts, the more I feel like Charlton Heston discovering that Soylent Green is actually dead people.  THIS is what I’ve been feeding myself?? 

The only conclusion I can draw is that by and large, I am a liar.  Unless I am very intentional, the steady stream of self-talk running through my mind on a daily basis is unbiblical.  Especially when it comes to parenting.  As a result, I often feel discouraged, afraid, and insecure as a mom.  Here are the two biggest lies I believe:

Lie #1: My children are a reflection of my worth and identity. 
Believing this lie is the surest way to climb on a rollercoaster and never get off.  I know I believe this lie when I ricochet between pride and despair depending on how my children behave.  Even worse, this lie produces selfish parenting.  I’m driven to control my kids because my identity is riding on their behavior.  At the end of the day, I’m not motivated by love for them, but love for myself.

And here’s a sad thought—how are we going to counsel our child through his identity crisis when our identity is wrapped up in his identity?  No kid needs a mom who falls apart every time he struggles.  He needs a mom who’s steadfast because her hope is in the Lord.  Only then can she lead, counsel, and be a model for him.

The sweet truth is, Jesus Christ bestows my worth and identity. O Lord, may this be the thought I tell myself the next time my children shine or disappoint.  May I grieve their misbehavior and be motivated to parent well because I love them and because I love You, not because I am insecure in my own identity.  

Lie #2: The greatest determining factor in my child’s spiritual growth (or lack thereof) is my performance as a parent.
If lie #1 leads to selfish parenting, I think this lie leads to fearful parenting.  And boy is this one deeply rooted in my heart.  It’s why I constantly feel guilty for turning on Dora instead of reading the girls a Bible story.  It’s why I pat myself on the back when we do a biblically-integrated craft or have a spiritual “discussion.”  It’s why I resent the fact that ungodly parents can raise godly children, and godly parents can raise ungodly children.  If I were completely honest, I’d admit that I want a guarantee.  I want to know that if I do X-Y-Z, then my children will grow up to love and worship the Lord whole-heartedly.

But the Bible teaches that salvation has and always will be in the hands of the Lord.  John 6:44 says, “No one can come to Me unless the Father who sent Me draws him.”  Yes, I am called to raise my children in the discipline and instruction of the Lord (Ephesians 6:4).  Yes, I am called to train them up in the way of the Lord (Proverbs 22:6).  But it is not my training that will save them.  At the end of the day Jesus saves.  Not Bible stories and sheep crafts.

Rather than be scared by this, I am choosing to be freed by it.  Because the sweet truth is, nobody is more passionate about my children’s spiritual growth, or more capable of producing it, then Jesus Christ.  God, forgive me for foolishly thinking my children are better off in my hands than yours.  Surely I can entrust their spiritual growth to You.  I pray that You would draw them to Yourself, and empower me to demonstrate the gospel in our home, by Your grace and not my own inadequate abilities.

Final Thoughts
What would change in our lives if we started telling ourselves the Truth about everything?  Not just parenting, but the truth about our future, the truth about our status before God, the truth about our acceptance and forgiveness and hope for change?  What if we told ourselves the truth about the value in all the menial things we do all day?  The truth about God’s ever-present grace?

What if we started just by listening to our thoughts?  By thinking about what we’re thinking about.  And then choosing to think in a more Christ-centered way.  My guess is that you and I would be a lot more joyful.  A lot less fearful.  And a lot more fun to be around 🙂

I still remember this moment.  Heidi and I had just come home from the hospital.  No sooner had I hobbled upstairs then Aubrey begged to hold her.  Clint whipped out the camera.  I gently laid Heidi in her lap.  The three of us beamed.  Heidi snored.  It was sheer bliss.

So many of the struggles I had as a new mom simply weren’t present the second time around, thanks to a little more experience and a lot more perspective.  Nevertheless, transitioning from one child to two presented its own unique challenges.  Because I know several moms who are about to embark on the journey, I figured it was as good a topic as any to write about.

This article was particularly fun to put together because I didn’t rely solely on my own experiences.  Instead I polled twelve mothers of two and asked them to candidly share the greatest challenges they faced when baby #2 came along, as well as their best advice.  Their responses were surprisingly similar.  Here’s the top three challenges they shared:

1. Balancing Your Time
Picture all the responsibilities you currently have with child #1 (laundry, cooking, cleaning, play time, discipline…etc.)  Baby #2 comes soft, sweet, and fully loaded with a dump truck worth of new responsibilities to drop on top of your old ones.  So how do you meet everybody’s needs and not end up with a home fit for Hoarders: Buried Alive?  Here’s some of the advice moms shared:

• Maintain perspective: the transition will soon be over and life will settle back into a routine.  To quote one mom, “Focus on the love you have for your children and your family as a whole [instead of all that needs to be done].”
• ASK FOR HELP.  This is not a sign of weakness, just humility.  The last person who needs to be putting pressure on  you is you.
• Try to stay home as long as possible after your baby is born.  This will give you more time to adjust.
• Take the time to get back into shape.  With all that needs to be done, it’s easy to put yourself on the back burner.  But scheduling a little time to exercise can go a long way toward restoring your energy and boosting your spirits.
• Pray in front of your kids when you need patience and strength.  (There will be instances when the baby is screaming to be fed just as your toddler spills a quart of craft glue on the floor and bursts into tears.  In that moment, this advice is a great alternative to bursting into tears yourself.)
• Get them both napping at the same time.  Having a few hours to yourself each day can make all the difference in the world.

2. Helping Your Firstborn Adjust
Imagine if your husband came home one day and said, “Sweetheart, this is Suzie.  She’s going to be my second wife.  She’ll live with us forever, share all your stuff, and occupy a lot of my attention.  Try and make her feel welcome.”  When a new baby comes along, your firstborn’s world shifts.  How he or she adjusts can depend on a lot of things—age, gender, temperament, personality, and even the temperament of the new baby.  The moms I polled expressed their stories so beautifully that I’m going to let them share the myriad of emotions and challenges they faced:

• “The greatest challenge in having a second child was love.  I had intense fear and guilt that I would be introducing someone else into our already full lives with a two year old who had stolen my heart.”
• “[When my toddler fell out of her highchair] I chose to keep feeding [my baby] while watching [my husband] comfort her.  And I watched as she didn’t turn to me.  She has become used to sharing me enough that she didn’t request me this time.  It hurt because…she has become use to the fact that I won’t always be there for her.  I now have two children to love and tend to.”
• “There were times when [my son] would say, “[The baby] eat again?” every hour and I felt so bad that I had to time out whatever it was we were doing in order to nurse.  There were times where I saw his jealousy and he would hold a screwdriver or packing tape over [the baby’s] head.  I would talk to other moms of more than one kid and I got some looks.  No one admitted to struggling.”
• “I was completely unprepared for baby #2 because baby #1 was so easy.  I just assumed that baby #2 would be laid back and follow his brother’s lead.  I envisioned being able to set him down while I cooked dinner or attended to potty training my oldest.   The first night when I tried to put him down in his crib, he wouldn’t have it and wailed his little heart out.  He ended up sleeping in my bed for a couple of weeks before I could wean him into his crib.  I spent most of my afternoons holding him because he’d cry the second I set him down.  He would cry for hours and hours and I soon felt like I was going to lose my mind.”  My advice is to love your baby EXACTLY the way God made him/her.  I know that sounds basic and obvious but it’s far too easy to play the comparison game.  Whether it’s comparing him to your firstborn or to your friends’ children; when your expectations aren’t met it’s easy to allow the root of discontentment to take place.  I have learned to accept my son for who he is instead of comparing him to his brother or to other babies.  I love him fiercely and wouldn’t trade him for a hundred ‘easy’ babies.”

Here’s some more advice they shared:

• As much as possible, include your older child in baby’s activities—helping to get a diaper, hold a bottle…etc.  Making your child a “helper” is a great way to get things done and still spend quality time with him/her.  Toddlers can snap green beans, wipe down the bathroom floor, and tidy right alongside you.
• Be HONEST about the challenges.  Seek out other moms for authentic vulnerability and encouragement.
• Teach your firstborn some basic skills: how to wait until mom can come (patience), how to be relatively quiet when baby is sleeping (self-control and loving others), and how to dress himself or get his own snack with permission (independence.)
• Do something quiet with your older child while nursing the baby, such as reading a book or helping make a puzzle.

3. Going to the Grocery Store…or Anywhere at All!
“A [big] challenge was getting out of the house, especially to grocery shop.  Making sure you have everything you might possibly need in the diaper bag and both kids with clean diapers before you walk out the door because the last thing you want is a buggy full of groceries and then having to find a convenient place in a grocery store to change a diaper while begging the older child to stay put and not touch anything. Or wearing the baby in a sling when the infant poo comes out of the diaper and you can feel it soaking through your clothes and onto your skin…”  Ah, motherhood at its finest 🙂  Here’s some advice:

• Plan ahead.  Make a grocery list, preferably in order according to where things are placed in the store so you can get in and GET OUT. 
• If possible, leave the kids with your husband.  Get a latte on the way to the grocery store and it’ll feel like a vacation.
• Store an emergency kit of extra clothes, diapers, and snacks in the car.
• When people inevitably remark that, “Gee golly, you’ve got your hands full!!” smile and say, “Yes, I’m very blessed!” 

Final Thoughts
Yesterday my two little girls squealed and giggled and played outside together for two hours while I raked leaves.  At 3 and 1 ½ they’ve invented a host of games—spinning the baby in the baby swing, chasing through the yard, hiding behind the trees, and of course kicking all Mommy’s leaves out of their piles.  When Aubrey runs inside, Heidi cries after her.  When Heidi falls down, Aubrey runs to kiss her.

At the beginning of this article, I told you to imagine all the responsibilities you have, and then to picture a dump truck worth of new ones plopping on top.  Now picture all the love that you have.  Imagine that dump truck filled to the brink with more love, more gratitude, and more delight than you ever thought possible, just waiting to overflow on your family.  That’s what it’s like to have a second child.  Heidi has taken the love we had in our family and made it all the more complete.  In the words of one mom, “Having our second knocked the wind out of me just like getting married or having our first child.  It brought me closer to the character of God. It opened my eyes to the possibility and reality that love is an overwhelming force. That when it is shared and open wide it intensifies in hue and grows bolder with the circumstances.  When [my baby] was born I loved my first child even more and taught him how to love even more.”

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Let me be the first to admit, so far I’ve done nothing overtly “spiritual” to prepare my kids for Christmas.  They’ve watched me wrap gifts, helped me break ornaments—I mean decorate the tree, and endured multiple trips to multiple stores.  All the while the thought lingers—what am I teaching my kids about the meaning of Christmas?  It’s a heavy thought, drooping from my heart like a ten pound ornament on a spindly branch.  Why so weighty?  Because teaching our children the meaning behind Christmas is eternally significant, yet radically counter-cultural.

Think about it—amid glitter and sequins, parties and stuff we are suppose to teach them that Christmas is about a baby so destitute He was born in a barn.  A baby who would one day grow into a Man who preached radical self-denial.  A Man declaring that all who follow Him must give up everything.

Somehow toy laptops and princess Lego towers just don’t seem to drive that message home.  Is there anything inherently sinful about giving your kids toy laptops and princess Lego towers?  Of course not!  But along with the gifts this Christmas, I want to give my children a gospel-centered worldview.  The approach we’ve chosen to take is very simple, mostly because our children are so young (1 and 3).  We have 2 goals: to drive home the meaning of Christmas with words and with actions.

1. WORDS—I know I said I haven’t done anything overtly “spiritual” in preparing my kids for Christmas, but I suppose the one thing we have begun to do is talk.  (I realized just how much talking we’ve been doing when Aubrey proudly announced that her Mae Mae is a sinner.  Granddaddy was tickled.)  So far we’ve been having many passing conversations about the fact that everyone is sinful and in need of Jesus, whose birth we celebrate at Christmas.  But as a family we want to become more intentional in our talk, having sit-down moments to read through picture books, and re-tell the Christmas story using nativity figurines.
2. ACTIONS—Our second goal is to complete one family service project.  Again, because our kids are so young, this will be fairly simple.  Our favorite idea so far is to let Aubrey draw pictures of the Christmas story (Mary, Joseph, baby Jesus).  I will write a simple sentence or two above the pictures.  Then we will make cookies together and pass them out around the neighborhood, letting Aubrey hand out one of her picture cards (along with a track).  We want to teach her not only that we give to others because Jesus has given so much to us, but also that it’s important to tell others about the special gift of Jesus.  (Heidi’s role in the project will be to hold down the wagon 🙂 )

Depending on the age of your kids, here are some other ideas for having a gospel-centered Christmas:

The Grateful Christmas Project—Ann Voskamp shares her family’s practice of forgoing personal gifts in order to buy gifts for Jesus from various outreach catalogues.  She also includes 7 practical ideas for cultivating gratitude in your children.

Practical Ways to Reach Out to Others During the Holidays—Lindsay shares 6 simple ideas for extending generosity toward others as a family.

Truth in the Tinsel: An Advent Experience for Little Hands—This popular new ebook includes daily activities, crafts, and devotionals to teach young children the meaning of Christmas.

What about you?  How does your family celebrate the birth of Christ?  As always, I welcome new ideas and fresh inspiration!