Year's End

2011 is drawing to a close. 

It is a cozy close, a calm and tea-by-the-fake-fireplace sort of close. 

It has been a calm year, really.

Busy days but all of them cluttered mercifully with not much more than the bits and minutae of daily life.  The cleaning and driving and cooking of it; walks around the block and pushing kids in swings; the softness and the brutality of routine.

Not much has changed this year, at least nothing monumental.  Personally speaking-- I've lost about 15 pounds and have made exercise and writing more a habit in my life.  I've learned how to fit more and more in my day and discovered how much I value a clean kitchen before bed.  I've woken up early for work and driven a lot and I've learned to love listening to books on tape during my commute.  I've gotten a new car and a new phone and some new clothes.  I've taken my children to the library and the playground and Target and the museums;  I've cooked a lot of Mac-n-cheese.  I've spent far too many hours on the couch with the dog and a computer on my lap. I've been to Denver and Guernsey and Aurora and Farley'; return trips one and all but wonderful all the same.  
I've watched my children grow and change each and every day and I've settled just a tiny bit further into my role as their mother.

It gets a little, tiny bit less strange with each passing year, this role.

In 2011, I have not had nearly as many moments where I catch a glimpse of myself in a mirror and think, with shock, My god, I am someone's MOTHER.


Rather, this year I am struck with amazement that I have TWO children.  Two actual-factual kids who belong to me, who are from me and of me and wrap up my history and my future and my mortality and eternity all in their warm, soft-skinned little selves. 

At years end these two little beings are amazing in every way.  From their skin and their lips and their hands and their little nails that grow oh-so-fast, the sheer physicality of them, to their smiles and their words and their laughter and the way their noticing changes my noticing, completely altering the way I see the world. 

My amazement is not always suffused with joy.  Not at 3am when I am amazed, continually, at just how long a little girl can refuse to sleep through the night.  Not at the dinner table when I am amazed that I seem to have birthed not one but two picky eaters.  Not at 6:30pm when I am exhausted from a day at work and amazed at the energy the children still seem to have, and the chaos they leave in their wake.

But somehow that is all drowned out when I see these two magical creatures laughing together over some private joke that sounds an awful lot like random squeaking to my adult ears.  Or when I snuggle with my boy before bed and am awestruck by his thoughtful questioning of the world.  Or when I burrow my nose into my girl's feather-blonde hair and breathe in her scent.  When I hold my son's hand and marvel that this was the tiny baby I brought into the world, just 4 short years ago.  When my girl dances on her tiptoes and hugs her babies and declares the world to be "mine!" and I see time racing away from the day she was my tiny baby, too. 

They are amazing.  They are breathtaking. 

And if 2011 was unremarkable and calm and yes, nigh boring-- I will revel in it and be grateful to it for each and every day of regular-daily-life it has given me with my children.  With this little family of mine.  Tucked in our little home in this little city, leading our ordinary lives. 

How lucky are we? 

May 2012 bring more of the same.

Christmas Day in the evening...

It was a lovely day.









Walks on the beach and bike rides and free, open time stretching out before us.

Oh yeah, and presents, too!






 

 

 

We went to sleep to this view on Christmas Eve..



...and woke up at 6am on Christmas morning to this...



In the evening we had some of this...



...and some of this....



And it was all perfect. 


Merry, Merry Christmas to one and all!

Christmas Eve

I think the magic of this night is that much more intense for how fleeting it is.  This moment in time, where time stops. Presents wrapped, carefully arranged, candle light and tree light intermingled and dancing on the glitter of ribbons and bows.  It will never look like this again.  And I can't capture it on film, as hard as I try.  There is no one media that can hold and store and re-present all of it at once. The smell-- candles and pine and paper and tea-- the sound-- a clock, hushed voices, Corydon's breathing, the night settling in--and that amazing half-light that is somehow bright as day and celebration but soft as a newborn asleep.  Mystery and magic and timelessness.

The world in solemn stillness lay...

Our children are snuggled in sugar-plum beds and the stockings are stuffed and I am giddy with the anticipation of their faces as my little ones snuggle their new stuffed animals and delight in the joy of three Tootsie rolls for their very own.  (We overdo Christmas, we really do.  The stocking presents alone are such a bounty....)  But the tree!  The tree!  What would Christmas be without a completely ridiculous pile of presents under the tree?  We know Jack and Ivy will be too overwhelmed to actually appreciate half of what we have given them. We know this, but still we give it, and wait eagerly for morning...

Jack said  he is not going to close his eyes tonight.  He has the curtains pushed back to keep watch for Santa.  He carefully helped to pen a note to the big guy and selected three of his favorite cookies to set out.

It's a daunting responsibility, and an amazing privilege, to be a part of creating the magic of Christmas for this little boy of my heart.

Off now to soak up a few more moments of light and stillness.

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.

Pageant

I had tears in my eyes tonight,  watching those little angels parade out.  And then my boy, the most serious of lions, shepherded by his cousin... Eyes forward and focused on the task at hand, until he saw me and flashed that shy eye-smile of his at me.




I couldn't have been more proud.

This pageant, of legend and Nat's childhood-- it was as magical as he's described it.



And not JUST because of my little lion.
Though that was most certainly a big part of it.



He helped pass out programs, confidently greeting strangers and telling them, "Thanks for coming" in that sweet little voice.  He sat quietly and patiently through the far-too-long commentary by the Catholic priest.



Have I mentioned how proud I was?


Little sister loved the night too.  Though she manifested that love by flinging herself around our pew, and chatting enthusiastically nearly the entire time.  "Bah, ba-bah-ba,  Bop!!!"  She "sang" along with the carols and watched carefully for Jack's appearances and fought mightily against us when we kept her from following him back down the aisle.
  

And her curls were to die for.


Tomorrow is Christmas Eve.  This stealth Christmas has come upon us like a bolt out of the blue this year, and we're just going to have to be ready.  We're here in Aurora and already soaking up the calm and peace of Claire's house.  We are going to try to just BE for a bit tomorrow. 

Just breathe.

And revel in the memory of 50 little children gathered in church, earnest faces shining in the magic of that old old story of that cold night long, long ago; tears in the eyes of every adult in the room as the past melds with the future and creates a present we wish could be bottled up forever; organ resounding and choir descant streaming and familiar-wonderful tunes filling our hearts.

Tomorrow is Christmas Eve and it will be beautiful.  Much magic to each of you. Soak it up.

First Snow

The first snow of the season is magic.



 

And we've been reveling in the magic of it.

When it snows in Cleveland and you've got two kids who love the snow, you seize the day.  Do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars, do not clean the house-- just get outside.

 


Yesterday we went sledding in our front yard, which entails a lot of pushing sleds forcefully down the slight incline on one side of the lawn.  The kids ate it up.  Ivy, little be-mittened hands covered in snow, furiously signing "more," Jack demanding more and faster and giggling like mad.

Then, we trudged our way around the block.  Because its not often that you can pull two sleds all the way around the block on a layer of fresh, white snow.  By the time we got home, the children's noses were pink, Ivy had piled snow all over her legs, the dog's paws were covered in snowballs and Nat and I were sweaty and exhausted.

It was great.



Today, we built snowmen in the slush.

Jack woke up asking to sled and spent his waking moments looking for icicles; Ivy talked nonstop about the "no" alllll day.  They will be sad little children tomorrow when it all melts away.

But for today?  Magic.

You know you're a parent when...

... the phrase "naked fun" has a whole new meaning than it did in college.

We had naked fun at our house on Friday night.  And yes, it did end with someone peeing on the floor.

You'll get that when 3 not-yet-potty-trained baby girls streak around your house for 20 minutes, after all.

"Naked fun" (as Jack refers to what is now, apparently, a new evening tradition in our home) was the culmination of a rather nice evening with Melinda, Will and company, wherein the kiddos actually spent quite a bit of time playing nicely together, and the adults chatted for a bit, and there were lots and lots of balloons.  Then Melinda went to get Lillian changed into her PJs to head home, and little miss did not want to get her diaper on, and, well, there was just no keeping the clothes on anyone else once Lil started running and giggling.  All of a sudden we had 4 little bums streaking around the downstairs loop. Round and round, shrieking with joy.

It was freaking hilarious.

And the puddle of pee?  It was on the hardwood so it was all totally worth it.



Here;s Jack in his new favorite spot.  He notes that the radiator behind the couch is "a nice warm place to sweep."  


Sunday we celebrated our family of friends again, with our December edition of Second Sunday Soup.  Eight kids and babies, eleven grown-ups attending, two soups, 4 loaves of bread, 37 markers on the floor, with 35 caps, 1 Magic game, lots of fun...



While I continue to be fairly overwhelmed by the busyness of Christmas (and the fact that is, like, less than 2 weeks away), I think I may be starting to soften towards this holiday season.

It might be magic after all.

Snippets

Ivy likes to do laundry.  We were in the basement, adding foam tiles to the basement auxillary play area (because one playroom?  just not enough for this household...), and Ivy disappeared.  I found her, with the washer door open, reaching into the hamper for dirty clothing.  The girl knows just what to do.  She very enthusiastically helped me fill washer and pressed every button she could find until we got it started.  And then you should have seen her helping to unload the dryer, climbing up onto the door, leaning her little self right in there to grab every last sock.


While snuggling with my little boy tonight -- my very tired, still-really-needs-a-nap little boy-- and reviewing his day, he told me all about what he did in yoga today:  crab and seagull, pedaling the bike to the beach, ice cream... "but not the REAL way, Mommy, just for pretend!"  Then, after a moment's pause, he asked me, "Mommy, do you remember when you were 4, and you were in Mrs. B's class??"

Smile.

We had a lovely chat about whether the toys at my school were the same as his, which led to a discussion about the merits of the really big wooden blocks and just how strong my boy is.

It was a saving grace, that snuggled-conversation, after an evening that had a fair amount of frustration, as my children refused to eat the dinner presented to them and I refused to cook them something different.  The joys of parenting abound.

hot cocoa

The kids have been very into hot cocoa recently.  Or, as some people might describe it, tepid Ovaltine in a mug. 

Here's Ivy (aka "the mop"-- don't mind the street-urchin hairdo) enjoying hers today...

Beginning to look a lot like Christmas....

I've been a bit of a scrooge so far this Christmas season, I have to admit. I had several moments this weekend where I came close to cursing the name of Christmas, sure that this holiday was invented purely to add more work, mess, and general chaos to my life.

We did manage to put up, light and decorate a tree this weekend... at the cost of getting no cleaning or laundry completed. And, there are still 3 more boxes of decorations to go.

Sigh. Can't do it all, I suppose.

Still, I am grateful that we took the time to get a little Christmas on around here. Extra work and all, it is delicious to have the glow of the tree complementing the glow of our little electric fire.

And, I am loving the little village. A last minute, clearance-at-Walgreens purchase last year, I think it may become a mainstay. Jack and Ivy both loved setting it up, arranging and rearranging the little people. Miniatures are magic, especially at Christmastime...


Jack was very into decorating the tree this year. In fact, I'd say he decorated about 80% of that tree by himself, with only minor adjustments from perfectionist-mom, to spread out a few clusters of ornaments.

You know what I loved about decorating the tree with him this year? His comments on each ornament, his obvious enjoyment of each one, getting to tell him, in tiny snippets, a little about what each ornament means to me. He was so very careful with them, and so very focused on his task. It's astounding, isn't it, just how grown up he is?

Ivy girl was interested in the process, in so much that she wanted to remove the ornaments as we put them up. She also enjoyed breaking apart pieces of styrafoam, and playing with the village. She's certainly a more active participant this year than last, but she's no 4 year old.  Not yet.

You know, I am starting to get really excited about spoiling these two on Christmas morning. The magic of the lights is starting to spread...


Here's a random photobooth shot of Nat and I, just for fun.

Quiet

Sorry for the quiet blog recently.  Life has been anything but quiet;  a bit routine, a bit too fast, but definitely not quiet.  There have been moments to write, here and there.... but there has also been laundry to fold, and dishes to do, and frankly, I've not been particularly inspired by anything to write about.

After all the excitement of Thanksgiving, with its photo-ops and memories being made, the return to normal life has been almost too normal to bear.  Or perhaps that's just the return to early mornings after the deliciousness of 5 days off...

I am recuperating today from a jam-packed weekend.  Choir concert and book club and Nat's birthday and a "birthday date day" and putting up the tree and...All good things but nary a moments pause between one and the next.

By recuperating I mean, of course, folding all the laundry that we didn't get folded over the weekend.

Laundry.  It'll be the death of me.

The kids have been good.  Definitely not quiet!  but good.  Ivy comes out with these perfectly enunciated words from time to time:  nice, snow, lights.  And plenty of rather-hard-to-understand word approximations-- but she gets her point across.  By far my favorite thing about her right now?  The way she says "yes".  Just the simple fact that she says YES now and not just NO is a beautiful thing.  But the way she nods her whole little self,  and says "yeah" or "uh-huh!"  with this thrilled look on her face!  Like she is simply tickled pink that we understand her, so happy just to be in agreement.  We need to get a video of her saying yes!

The boy continues to have his moments wherein he tests the limits of being a 4 year old-- talking back, refusing, a bad, bad case of selective hearing....  Of course he also has his moments wherein he is the sweetest child in the known universe.  A new bedtime routine is emerging where Jack asks us to climb into his bed and snuggle with him before tucking him in.  I have to say, I'm a fan.  For starters, its nice and warm under his covers.  And he is just this tiny thing again, tucked in my arms, his hand in mine.... we talk about the day and give hugs and its just lovely to have, for a few brief moments, a snuggly kiddo.  And, Jack doesn't beg and cling and dawdle when we leave the room after he's had a good snuggle.    There'a a lot to be said for anything that will keep Jack from begging, clinging, and dawdling...

Will attempt to get pictures from recent days uploaded for sharing....   In the meantime, I am going to enjoy this moment of quiet in my house. And fold that laundry.