Christmas at the Landreneaus, Part 1

Advent is upon us.

A time to get ready for His coming.

The world says that this is the busiest time of year. Buying presents. Spending money. Incurring debt. The world says that more is better. More stuff indicates higher status.

I think we should be busy. Busy preparing our hearts for Him. Busy teaching our children about why He came. Busy thinking of others. Busy giving stuff away. Busy remembering that less is more.

This fat man in a suit has caused a lot of controversy in my heart for the last several years. When we first married, I never thought about not "doing" Santa when we had children. Two years later, we had a six month old, and I began to really think about Santa.

We came up with a plan:

Santa would bring our children one gift and fill the stockings. We didn't want them making these long lists of their wants thinking that Santa could bring any and everything just because he's Santa. We would say the "big" gift was from him each year. We also decided not to make a big deal out of him. We talked a lot about Jesus' birthday being the real reason we celebrate. I felt good about this. I felt like we'd found a happy medium.

Then I got a call from a dear friend from college. Her child was 18 months old, and she asked me if we "did" Santa. I told her our plan. She said she tended to agree with me, but that her husband refused to have Santa in their home. One of the first reasons he gave her was that he felt completely deceived when he'd learned the truth about Santa as a child. He didn't want that for his children. I told my friend that I could see his point, but that I had never felt that way. I believed in Santa until I was almost ten years old, but I learned the truth simply by growing up and it never felt like a big blow.

That's when she went further.

She explained to her husband that she really didn't see the harm in it; she'd never felt lied to by her parents, so why not?

He told her that every time he prayed about this issue, the Lord reminded him of the Israelites in the Old Testament. Each time they came upon a new city that they were to conquer, the Lord told Moses not to assimilate to that culture. Each time, the Israelites disobeyed. Each time, they wandered longer in the desert. That's how my friend's husband saw Santa... assimilating to the world when our allegiance should be to Christ.

I was blown away by that explanation. It haunted me for years because I knew I was being disobedient. Every year as Thanksgiving rolled around, I revisited these thoughts. Every year, I justified our plan.

Last year, I asked the Lord to show me what He wanted our family's Christmas to look like.

Now, I am stubborn. I wanted Him to show me loud and clear. I was practically baiting God to let me keep having my way in this. He's faithful, and He showed up big time.

On December 16, I read Heather's blog about Christmas in their home. Every word she wrote about Santa resonated so deeply within me that I couldn't fight it anymore. In fact, I felt free. " This is the line that really got to me: "We don't tell our kids that Santa is real. Going out of our way to lie to our children is wrong…no matter what time of the year it is. Proverbs 12: 22 says the LORD detests lying lips, but he delights in men who are truthful."

I asked Phil to read it. His reaction was so simple, "If we're convicted by this, we have to follow through."

What it boiled down to is that we would never want our children to wonder whether or not God is real because we said Santa was.

So we had to tell our children. First, we asked their forgiveness for lying to them about something big. Then we asked them if they thought Superman, Spiderman, etc., were real. Jacob laughed and said no. We asked if Santa was real. He paused, unsure, and replied with a very hesitant yes. I said, "Actually, Buddy, he's not. Mommy and Daddy weren't telling the truth about that, and we are very sorry."

That was the end of it. They weren't upset. They really couldn't have cared less. I was the one making the big deal out of it. I learned once again that my children are so forgiving when we are honest with them about our own mistakes. They paint such a beautiful picture of God's forgiveness. Our kids think that Santa is as cool as the next super hero, but they know that he is no more real than they are.

Our families were very supportive. I only got called crazy by one uncle who said we were party poopers and ruining Christmas for our kids. I can live with that. On Christmas night, I shared this whole journey with a friend of mine, and she and her husband had just made the same decision for their family! We were so excited that the Lord continually confirmed our obedience!

Now we instruct our children every time we're around other kids that this is what we do in our family. We cannot tell another family what is right for them. They have shocked me with how well they've obeyed this rule!

This post is long enough! Next time, I'll try to write about what we do rather than what we don't do!

Catch Up Post #3: Caroline Elizabeth Pace

When I look back on my childhood, there are so many things I am thankful for.

The first is that the Catholic faith was passed on to me. The richness, the traditions, the beauty; I am still in awe of all of it.

The second is my amazing, amazing mother (who continues to be so) and my family.

The third is Katherine.

Katherine and I have been friends since pre-k. In Kindergarten, her mother commented to my mother, "They are the type of friends that will be in each other's weddings." She was right.

There is no event in our lives, major or minor, joyful or sorrowful, that we have not walked through together. We can talk every day or once a month and it's like no time has passed. In fact, we're ususally trying to call each other at the same time. My first child was born at 3:32 in the afternoon; I had a missed call on my cell phone from Katherine at 3:32. She didn't even know I was in labor!

Katherine is constant to me. She is the sister I never had. She is one of my safe places...the friend I can talk to about anything and be accepted and loved.

One of the coolest things is that we married men who get along so well. Phil and Jeff are so alike in so many ways! When they come to town, Jeff gets so excited to see my kids, to the point that he has come to visit them without me or Katherine even here. That is such a gift to me.

I had the amazing pleasure of being in Shreveport right after they had their first child just a few short weeks ago. I was actually the first to hold her after they did! We laughed. We cried. We reminisced. We worked on breastfeeding (well, she did!) and swaddling. We kept Jeff calm, or somewhat calm!

It was so special to see her experience what I know she was made for. Katherine has been a mother since she was about four years old, and to see her with her very own was witnessing God's mighty hand. It was a blessing to be able to tell her, "I promise, you will feel better after a shower. I know it doesn't feel like it, but tomorrow will be better. I promise, Caroline will learn to breastfeed. I promise, you won't break her!"

Thank you, God, for this friendship. I pray this type of friendship for my own children.

Love you, P.

Catch Up Post #2: Halloween

Here's our Halloween recap:

We went to a Fall Family Bash at some friends' home the weekend before. Kids and adults all had great fun. I left town the Monday before Halloween for the birth of my best friend's first baby (that's a whole other post). I got back to our house at 5:20pm just in time to eat real quick and head over to my mom's for trick-or-treating at 6:00. That neighborhood gives the best candy! Then it was home and bed for the kids, and I totally raided their stash of candy!

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Catch Up Post #1: Texas Renaissance Festival

Last year in October, I read this post on the Hendrick blog:

http://allthingshendrick.blogspot.com/search/label/Renaissance%20Festival

It looked like such fun that we decided we'd go this year. We made arrangements to stay in Kingwood at my uncle's house. Plans were made. Tickets were purchased early to get the discount. All was well.

Then we put Ava in the car to head to Kingwood on the night before. We left Lafayette at 4pm. Ava started crying/screaming at about 4:10. She cried until 7:00 when she finally fell asleep. This was 10 minutes before we got to the house. Oy. We both wanted to leave her at the Texas Welcome Center and pick her up on the way home.

We unloaded, stuffed our faces, bathed the kids, and put Ava to bed. So far, much better.

Then we went to put Jacob and Mary-Grace to bed. The word "nightmare" comes to mind. They were petrified of the dogs and were CONVINCED that the two very small dogs could bust down the door to their room. They were thinking Superman stuffed inside those dogs, I guess. By 10:30, they'd stopped freaking out enough to go to sleep.

We packed up the next morning and were out the door for 7:20... plenty of time to spare. Again, so we thought.

Ava went right to sleep. Praise the Lord.

My stomach started doing flip flops, so we had to make numerous bathroom breaks and a medicine stop. These pit stops woke Ava up, and she proceeded to scream all the way to Plantersville.

When we were about halfway there, I asked Phil where he put the packet with the tickets in it because I wanted to look over my map.

He turned white.

I called my aunt.

It was sitting next to the computer at their house.

We turned around.

Then, in a moment of pure divine inspiration, I called her back and had her find me the phone number for the festival. Thank God, these sweet people told me to just come and they would give me some new ones.

Finally, we made it. We ended up parking on the same row as the Hendricks which was great because I'm not sure we'd have met them otherwise; the place is HUGE! I loved getting to meet Heather after all this time of getting to know her through her blog.

The day was great, well worth the trip and headaches of actually getting there.

Smells like feet....

I have decided.


Heather Hendrick is right about Fritos.

Sometime in the last year and a half of reading her blog, I remember her mentioning that fritos smell/taste like feet. I know, sick, right?



Fritos are not a common item in our house, but I made a huge pot of chili for the freezer yesterday, so I grabbed a bag at the store.



Tonight, when I opened them, I got a fresh whiff, and holy cow, I'd have sworn I was pregnant because the smell was so offensive!


Then I remembered the "fritos smell like feet" thing, and I thought...


She is totally right!!! They stink like feet.


But I still ate them with my chili because I decided they don't taste like feet!

A real blog post coming soon. There are many events to blog about!! Somebody bug me about this so I'll do it!!!