On Christmas music, materialism and interdependence

On a largely sacrilegious note, is Christmas over yet? Truthfully? It's mostly the music. The crumb snatchers want it on all.the.time. It was fun for a little while, but I'm pretty good now. Falalalaenough, thankyouverymuch. Though I must admit, I get weepy every blessed time the lyrics fall on your knees, and hear the angels' voices spread out over the speakers and land directly on the very bit of softness that resides in my heart. Yes. I hear them. I do. Then I fall on my knees. Because there is nothing like entering a deeply humbled, worshipful state. I am so glad you were born, Lord.

I am one of those people who does all the gift shopping in the summer so my schedule really doesn't change much in December, which I highly recommend -- nice and low stress. I do enjoy the cookie baking and eating making the gingerbread house candy and all the anticipation and excitement in the air. But to a messed up person like me, holidays (and milestones in general) though filled with immense joy, heavily call to mind the rapid passage of evaporating years and how quickly my people are growing up and how soon everything will change. Plus, no matter how hard we try to keep it low and light, the materialism of the season always gets to me. Not in a good way. I have often wished we could celebrate separately. The birth of Jesus on one hand, random gifts for each other on another. Some Christmas I will give my kids gold, frankinsence and myrrh. If it was good enough for Jesus, it's good enough for you, my babes. 

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Daddy-o and I have spent hours talking over some major decisions lately and all I can say is, wow. That man of mine, he is a keeper. I have been reminded again of how fortunate I am to be allowed the privilege of my lot, getting to spend my moments with him.

As much as I endeavor to instill in my girls that it is important for them to be educated and/or learn an honorable trade they can present for monetary gain -- because you never know what the future will hold, even if you are married and want to be a stay at home mommy. Things don't always work out the way you might expect. Especially long term. Lots of great, devoted moms need or choose to work outside the home to provide income for their families and I feel it is wise to develop marketable skills, just in case.

Still.

Can I just say that a life of sustained interdependence holds its own brand of symbiotic allure?

Goodness, it just does.

When you have a man who affords you the freedom and trust and authority to oversee your household in the manner you deem most appropriate, someone who selflessly provides for the financial needs of your family while you provide the majority of the day-to-day physical needs, living life as a stay at home mom can be a wonderfully liberating, incredibly validating feat. Never one to lord over me or aggressively assert his "headship," my husband grants me the freedom to be CEO of Deutschland. Not because he is whatsoever weak, but because he is secure enough in his manhood to defer to me in areas he feels I may have better insight (and to own not one, but two poodles!). He respects my opinions and values my thoughts and does everything in his power to assimilate my priorities as his own. He reigns as master of his domain (bringing home the bacon! and fixing all the stuff 7 children break....) and I reign as master of mine. Where they overlap, we work toward a point of agreement. It is a tremendous life, abiding in a fruitful land of generous give and take.

He is the lynch pin of my existence, the key to my lock, the promoter of my wishes, the benefactor of my days. I hope to never take for granted his ceaseless goodness to me nor grieve his soul. Every gift I treasure on this earth revolves around him -- my children, my marriage, my dogs, my home, my list of abundantly met need, everything I've got to claim as my own -- his labor has furnished.

I am fiercely dependent on him for my very livelihood. And in this case, that happens to be a beautiful, powerful thing.

Thank you, Mr. Deutsch. So pleased to be your Mrs.