I love my family.
When Daughter 1 was a itty-bitty toddler (actually, she was never itty-bitty), she used to tell us, "My favorite thing to say is 'I love my family.'" And it was her favorite thing to say. She'd tell waitresses, our pastor, people in line at Hellmart. It's kinda become our motto: I love my family.
|This picture has nothing to do with this post. I just really like it.|
I should frame it, right?
And it's the truth. I do love my family.
I do not, however, typically love shopping with my family. I'm not a big fan of shopping anyway. I don't like spending money. I don't like going on wild safaris in search of just the right item or fighting crowds--it just doesn't light my fire. The shopping that I have to do for groceries every week wears me out, and I leave The Daughters home for that outing.
But, once a year, we take The Daughters out by themselves to go shopping for each other. Brian and I accompany them as the basket pusher and accountant, keeping them within budget.
On these shopping days? I love shopping, and I love shopping with my family.
This year, Daughter 2 took along a notebook and pencil (so she could erase), and she made a list of items that her sister would like (along with the price) then she carefully decided what would make her sister the happiest. There was a lot of thought and consideration that went into her selections.
Daughter 1 spent a great deal of time picking out the exact item that would best suit her sister. This year's gift was not what Daughter 2 specifically asked for, but it's something she would want more and hadn't even considered.
It's in those moments when they consider a gift for each other that the pettiness of sibling rivalry melts away. The harmful words and hurtful grumblings fade to nothingness at the sight of them each pulling from their hearts to select just the right things. Shopping with them for Christmas makes my momma heart pound with pride.
Then we go home and Daughter 2 says, "I got you a One Direction pillow." (She didn't.)
And Daughter 1 says, "You know I hate One Direction."
So Daughter 2 fires back, "So, you have to say thank you anyway; it's the rule."
Then Daughter 1 says, "Well, I hope you enjoy your stupid lime Jell-O because that's what I got for you." (She didn't.)
And Daughter 2 whines, "You know I hate Jell-O! Unless we are at Furrs!"
But, I have that memory of a sweet sister pouring her heart and soul into her gift choice to keep me going until Christmas rolls around again next year.