RANDOM THOUGHTS ON THE LAST TUESDAY OF 2014

babytoestowel

baby toes. you’re welcome.

My big kids just left for their weekly overnight with their father, that stubborn tiny guy of mine is finally finally napping, and the house is both quiet and clean, leaving me a moment to sit and gather my thoughts. Clickety clack.

I honestly can’t believe how quickly this year flew by. I’ve said this a million times already, but only because it is so very true.

Then again, I feel about a bajillion miles away from the person I was at this time last year. And really, the only thing I miss about being her was that she was pregnant. I will always miss being pregnant. I didn’t want it to end. But it did, and that is when the life of my Huckleberry friend began, and what a glorious thing it is to get to be that boy’s mama. He is so delicious.

Life with a preteen, a second grader, and an infant is blindingly exhausting, I will just come right out and say it. But only in the very best possible way. These little people, one of whom is an inch shy of standing eye to eye with his mother, they are remarkable. I am in awe of them, their talents, their thoughts, and am so very inspired by the way in which they each face the tests they are given with grace, dignity, and confidence. I’ll say it until the day there is no breath left in my lungs, they have taught me more than I could ever teach them in a hundred thousand lifetimes. They are brilliant, and I’m lucky they chose me. The luckiest.

And then there is this man I’m going to marry. He’s something else. The whole of the universe conspired to bring us together, and this little blended family we’ve created is of what I am most proud. We have had some wild adventures together, this tribe of mine, moving more times in four years than some ever do. Which is why getting to celebrate New Year’s Eve in the very same house where we celebrated last year is so significant: the last time this happened, Jade was a year old.

Who knows how long we’ll be in this place. We are, after all, a rambunctious bunch cursed with wild and extravagant imaginations, for whom things like relocating to the French Countryside sound not only practical, but down right necessary. With a brief stop in New York City on the way, of course. As you do. But being here, in sunny San Diego, has helped each of us to thrive in a way I don’t think any other place could have. It’s an expensive place to live, you can be sure, but it’s worth it. I like to call it the Sun Tax. You pay for what you get! I’m looking at you, Oregon.

As for me, this has been a deeply, profoundly personal year. I am not who I was, even two months ago. I’m even eating eggs, but that is a story for another day. My point is that there are some years where I have gone, didn’t I accomplish anything? But not this year. This was a year of doing. I did a lot. Maybe more than any other year of my life, big things, small things, things only me and my Creator know about, so many things. To list them would be in poor taste, I think, because it feels a little bit like gloating. So instead, I will say this. Good things come to those who wait, work hard, and want it bad enough.

You guys, the baby is still sleeping (!) and I think I actually just wrote something from start to finish, without being interrupted once. THIS ALMOST NEVER HAPPENS. Maybe I should go paint my nails, or even crazier, take a nap myself. What I should definitely do is eat some lunch, which is to say it’s time for me to beg my mister to take me out for burritos when the baby wakes up from the nap I was pretty sure he was never going to take.

Look at how much I can get done when you sleep, Roux!

A DREAM IS A WISH YOUR HEART MAKES

babyjade2008

this photo is old and blurry, but i love it. mostly because it was taken by emet, but also, her eyes. and that runny nose!

I was raised on fairy tales of the Disney variety, never thinking twice that the good people at the House of Mouse weren’t actually the ones responsible for those stories. So, naturally, when I discovered the Brothers Grimm, I was a little miffed that ol’ Walt and his team of animators positively bastardized the complexities of the German folklore.

When Emet was born, one of the sweetest gifts I was given was a complete and unabridged collection of the original Grimm’s Fairy Tales. I suppose the only thing more complete would be an untranslated version, but sprechen sie Deutsch I do not. So, English it was, and oh! The language in those stories is just poetic.

It was a few years later, when I was in training to become a Waldorf teacher, that I learned just how important these particular narratives – and the eloquent language contained therewithin – are to young children. The curriculum of the Early Childhood and the First Grade are based entirely upon classic fairy tales and so it was that I decided my children would not bear witness to the animated movies of my childhood. Also, I’m of the media-free childhood persuasion, so it wasn’t really an issue.

As my children have grown, they have indeed been exposed to their fair share of movies and television shows, albeit far less than the average American child. And yet, purely by coincidence, the Disney movies were left unwatched. A few months ago, we were at a restaurant where each of my big kids were given a coloring page. Emet’s was Sponge Bob, and Jade’s was Belle. And while Mr. Squarepants was instantly recognized by the both of them, neither Emet nor Jade could name the princess or the film from whence she came. I felt a little bit proud and a little bit sad, because truly, I loved those movies. LOVED THEM.

So, when my handsome mister called me into his office a week or so ago to show me a trailer he’d come across of a live-action version of Cinderella due to hit theaters this coming Spring, I rolled my eyes a little because, honestly, how good could it be? Only so good that I cried. Not once, not twice, but three times. Every hair on my body was standing on end, and the flutters in my heart told me I had to share this with my daughter.

I will never forget her eyes as she watched, like saucers they were, filled with stars and fairy dust and all the magic I remember from when I was a little girl. In that moment, I knew exactly what I had to do. Why, read her Ashputtel of course, a tale which she’s heard at least a half dozen times.

When Christmas morning came, there was a small package finished with glittering gold ribbon addressed to the youngest maiden of the house. And when she opened it up, she squealed with delight to find her very own copy of Disney’s Cinderella.

To be honest, I can’t remember the last time I saw that movie. I’m almost positive I was Jade’s age, or thereabouts. But when she and I sat down later Christmas day to watch it together, from the moment the first note of the overture sounded, I was mesmerized. I remembered all the songs, all the funny little things the mice say, all the magic. Sharing this film with my beautiful girl, at an age when she is more than ready to appreciate it purely as entertainment, well, it was perfect.

She and I have a date to the movie theatre this coming March, and we are so excited we can hardly stand it!

IF I CAN DO IT, SO CAN YOU

bemerrychalk

image via

One of the reasons I don’t write about extended family is because it’s a complicated subject. There are lots of hurt feelings, practically an ocean’s worth of water under a very long bridge, and for most of my adult life, I have chosen to remove myself from the chaos. For several years now, I haven’t spoken much, if at all, to any of my relatives on either side of my splintered family, a practice that is equally liberating as it is isolating.

The truth is, I carry around an awful lot of pain and sadness, big armfuls of agony I’ve somehow managed to collect one way or another. Hard as I might try to shutter away the darkness and to pay extra close attention to the good and the beautiful, it is always there, right under the surface, and it comes out to haunt me when I least expect it.

Like during the Holidays, for instance.

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THE CROWNING OF THE YEAR

bokehtree

This is it, folks. The home stretch. All the candles on the Advent Wreath are illuminated, we’re more than halfway through Hanukkah, and tonight is the longest night of the year which might be the one I look forward to most of all. I love a good Winter Solstice the way I love a good song, a firm tug on the old heartstrings kind of thing. Also, there’s a new moon tonight and I read somewhere on Instagram that this will actually be the longest night in history? I’m not sure about that last bit, but it sure sounded mystical.

This part of the year just gets me, you guys. It’s my spirit season, I think, because I’m always filled with so much gratitude and inspiration, something about looking back and forward all at once, celebrating what has been and what is yet to come. All the caroling and cookie baking and tidings of good cheer, all the decorations and the stories and the movies, this stuff thrills me through and through.

We spent nine straight hours cleaning our house today – it might actually be shining like the top of Chrysler Building, thank you very much Mrs. Hannigan – and tomorrow morning, the Salvation Army will be coming by to collect a dozen bags filled with things that have worn their welcome with us but that might find new purpose elsewhere. I’ve intended to make this a sort of tradition for the past few years, and the fact that I’ve finally managed to pull it all together is extremely gratifying.

With only four sleeps until Christmas morning, the excitement is mounting by the minute. Our halls have had a proper decking and our tree is finally all gussied up in her holiday finest after spending three straight weeks standing in our living room naked as the day we brought her home from the lot. I’ve named her Aster, fitting for the lovely late bloomer she’s turned out to be, and she smells divine.

There are a few projects that need finishing, a few packages that need wrapping, and at least a half dozen movies that need watching before the big day arrives, not to mention countless cookies that need to be baked and eaten. All the makings of a cozy, quiet, homemade holiday with my happy, healthy(-ish, we’ve got some coughs and runny noses), adorable family in our super clean home in the hills of sunny San Diego. All my Christmas wishes granted, and I haven’t even opened a single present!

Wishing you and yours a week filled with joy, from the bottom of my very happy heart.