...why do I start days like today in any other way than "...it's Thursday"? The fact that it is Christmas Eve, a full moon, and clearly where bizarre world meets chaos world somewhere in the nexus of the universe..."...it's Thursday" would have just made more sense.
Getting anyone anywhere in this house is like some TSA video of what could possibly go wrong. Mind you, if we are just going no where, we get there, no drama, anarchy or blood shed. If we have to be somewhere by a set time...forget it. Someone hates their shirt. Someone can't find their belt. Someone doesn't like their hair. Someone isn't tall enough...the list goes on. I even try to trick myself by pretending we need to be there earlier, all will run smoothly...never.
Now, today, like most holidays of this quarter, was spent with me nearly having a nervous breakdown of one more damned thing broken in this house that I don't know how to fix...Deep breathes were taken, gum vigorously chewed, and the announcement given that if one more expensive thing gets broken in this house, I'm out...they can just go it alone. Crazy threat I know, but seriously much better than the things running through my head earlier. So, I had a cocktail.
Tonight was different. It was Christmas Eve...I had signed us up to be greeters, readers, and Nora got to play the piano...all within 2 hours...seems easily accomplished. I thought I had bitten off more than I could chew when Atticus began giving death glares to anyone walking in. He then proceeded to spend the next two hours not so subtly letting anyone in a 4 foot radius know he didn't want to be there...Merry Freaking Christmas kid, was what it looked like people were thinking...I know I was.
Nora did a great job. She's sort of an interpretive piano player, and her piano teacher is very patient. Oscar did well reading, even though it looked like it freaked the bejesus out of him to do so. He was paid a few compliments on how much guts it takes to get up there and read. I'm not sure if it's pushed him into a new calling. But the most reverent part of the evening...the one time all year that you know probably holds a special place in some one's heart who attends church...the carrying of the baby Jesus to the manger...hopefully nobody saw...
Originally, Atticus was asked to carry the baby Jesus statue. I thought what a cool thing he gets to do? About 2 minutes into church and I thought, OH HECK NO is that going to work. Nora was bestowed the honor to which she high-fived an invisible person when she was told. Now, I didn't think I had to tell Nora what to do, she's seen it done before. She knew what an honor it was...It wasn't until she was walking the baby Jesus down the aisle and having it wave at everyone...Yeah, explanation was clearly needed...and yeah, people saw. I doubt we get asked next year. But, this year everyone was made to understand the notion, Jesus was friendly at birth*...Merry Christmas to you from our baby Jesus waving family...
*thank you Strock
Thursday, December 24, 2015
Wednesday, December 16, 2015
...chocolate covered orange slices...
Time. I look at that word and it means a million things to me. This last month, time has been almost a curse word in the effort of finding more, using it wisely, and watching it fly past you like a screaming fire truck. But also, in the hustle and bustle of getting all of the "things" you think you need to get done during this time of year. "Time" has sort of gently slapped me in the face a few frequently...like someone being awoken from an accidental sleep. "Time" has been reminding me of a few things that are just taken for granted in this house, not purposefully, merely in the effort to move forward.
I have this tiny human in my house. He is thoughtful, quiet at times, creative, curious, mischievous, stubborn, and at the heart of it all very loving. Today he came up to me, and I asked him what was wrong. He hugged me around the leg and said, "...nothing, just loving on you". He isn't old enough to know that it's uncool to show affection to his mom. He isn't old enough to understand that I'm all he has had in the way of a parent. He couldn't possibly remember his dad, of whom he takes after so greatly. I find myself wondering how in the world is it possible he's grown so much. Counting time has become a different process for me. It's before our life changed and after. It's hard for me to imagine that Atticus is the same age Nora was when Jason passed away. All this time, time...makes me wonder what might have been.
I feel like I've been given these little gifts lately...filling a void in the most unlikely of places. Someone will say something to me, or I will hear my kids say a phrase, and it seriously reminds me of Jason. I sit and think sometimes, I wonder what life would have been like with 6 people in this house...I cannot get to that point. It's like we had to start living our lives, and it's really all we know anymore. All the while understanding that moving forward didn't mean we weren't occasionally looking in the rearview mirror...but it's like we don't have to or it's unnecessary. Our lives are what they are because we have each other. Our memories are what we have made and continue to make together...however, the ever subtle nudges I get ever so gently, I know I'm being given a sign that someone on the other side is paying attention.
I am mentally making myself slow down...slow my mouth...slow my temper...slow my answers...slow my "time" down. I'm only going to get this time with my kids once. I'm only going to see the magic of this season in their eyes for a few more years. I'm only going to understand that what comes out of my mouth will really be what makes or breaks an evening. As I was putting Nora to bed tonight she asked if I would want to write a book for kids. I said, well I didn't know, I wasn't a kid and maybe I would need her help since she is. She said, "...well, the first thing I want to write about is how if you mess around at the dinner table and spill your milk, your mom is probably going to get pis....wait, I can't say that word, but I know you really were..." And, I mentally made a NOTE.
I feel like for the first time in a long while, my kids understand what this time of year is about. Maybe it's because there are more of them in school? Maybe because they are at an age where they understand our dynamic? My kids came home a little late from school the other day. Oscar walked right in, and put something in my stocking. I figured it was a school project that he fashioned into a Christmas treasure. As I was opening up Nora's said school-project-Christmas-treasure tonight, he asked if I wanted to open my gift in my stocking. I said I would wait. He then went on and on about how he spent his own money not at school to buy this gift, and they all went after school to get it...? I saw the pride on Oscar's face, a glint in his eye I hadn't ever seen before. They all were looking at me grinning, as if they all had this secret. I said, "...O M Gosh, you bought me chocolate covered orange slices?!" And they all started cheering!
In that moment...I felt like I was given possibly the best Christmas gift of all time. The notion that my kids, first of all, listened to anything I might have mentioned I liked. Found the money, perhaps that I didn't confiscate from the laundry. They went into a store, with the intention of making a purchase not for themselves. To me...that was a gift better than time...better than anything I will probably get this year, because it was a gift that was given straight to my heart. Someday, I hope my kids read this and understand that I know I'm not perfect. I know I mess up a lot. I know my temper is like that of someone at a wrestling match. But the one thing I do that is the most important thing, more important than time could ever give me...is loving them.
I have this tiny human in my house. He is thoughtful, quiet at times, creative, curious, mischievous, stubborn, and at the heart of it all very loving. Today he came up to me, and I asked him what was wrong. He hugged me around the leg and said, "...nothing, just loving on you". He isn't old enough to know that it's uncool to show affection to his mom. He isn't old enough to understand that I'm all he has had in the way of a parent. He couldn't possibly remember his dad, of whom he takes after so greatly. I find myself wondering how in the world is it possible he's grown so much. Counting time has become a different process for me. It's before our life changed and after. It's hard for me to imagine that Atticus is the same age Nora was when Jason passed away. All this time, time...makes me wonder what might have been.
I feel like I've been given these little gifts lately...filling a void in the most unlikely of places. Someone will say something to me, or I will hear my kids say a phrase, and it seriously reminds me of Jason. I sit and think sometimes, I wonder what life would have been like with 6 people in this house...I cannot get to that point. It's like we had to start living our lives, and it's really all we know anymore. All the while understanding that moving forward didn't mean we weren't occasionally looking in the rearview mirror...but it's like we don't have to or it's unnecessary. Our lives are what they are because we have each other. Our memories are what we have made and continue to make together...however, the ever subtle nudges I get ever so gently, I know I'm being given a sign that someone on the other side is paying attention.
I am mentally making myself slow down...slow my mouth...slow my temper...slow my answers...slow my "time" down. I'm only going to get this time with my kids once. I'm only going to see the magic of this season in their eyes for a few more years. I'm only going to understand that what comes out of my mouth will really be what makes or breaks an evening. As I was putting Nora to bed tonight she asked if I would want to write a book for kids. I said, well I didn't know, I wasn't a kid and maybe I would need her help since she is. She said, "...well, the first thing I want to write about is how if you mess around at the dinner table and spill your milk, your mom is probably going to get pis....wait, I can't say that word, but I know you really were..." And, I mentally made a NOTE.
I feel like for the first time in a long while, my kids understand what this time of year is about. Maybe it's because there are more of them in school? Maybe because they are at an age where they understand our dynamic? My kids came home a little late from school the other day. Oscar walked right in, and put something in my stocking. I figured it was a school project that he fashioned into a Christmas treasure. As I was opening up Nora's said school-project-Christmas-treasure tonight, he asked if I wanted to open my gift in my stocking. I said I would wait. He then went on and on about how he spent his own money not at school to buy this gift, and they all went after school to get it...? I saw the pride on Oscar's face, a glint in his eye I hadn't ever seen before. They all were looking at me grinning, as if they all had this secret. I said, "...O M Gosh, you bought me chocolate covered orange slices?!" And they all started cheering!
In that moment...I felt like I was given possibly the best Christmas gift of all time. The notion that my kids, first of all, listened to anything I might have mentioned I liked. Found the money, perhaps that I didn't confiscate from the laundry. They went into a store, with the intention of making a purchase not for themselves. To me...that was a gift better than time...better than anything I will probably get this year, because it was a gift that was given straight to my heart. Someday, I hope my kids read this and understand that I know I'm not perfect. I know I mess up a lot. I know my temper is like that of someone at a wrestling match. But the one thing I do that is the most important thing, more important than time could ever give me...is loving them.
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