Enough

Last night was it, the night Christmas Desolation set in.  It happens every year, this moment, though it manages to surprise me each time.  It is a disorienting sensation of emptiness in a time that is full, darkness amid all the lights.  It is a sad and lonely and rather whiny thing, this Christmas Desolation,  usually triggered by a series of of small annoyances which, when contrasted with the gaiety, ribbons and joy of the season, suddenly seem cataclysmic.

Last night, I found myself mired in these: the dog has a rash and the furnace is misbehaving; my students have been oppositional and my children, demanding: the dishes are piled in the sink, there are 6 loads of laundry to fold, the floors are dirty and I haven't done a lick of schoolwork tonight; the days are fleeting and I just don't have any really good presents for anyone this year.

Yeah, I know.  But sometimes its the little things that tangle you up, you know?

Then, Nat and I watched an episode of "Louie".  For those unfamiliar with the show, its the story of a dour-faced stand-up comedian in his 40's, living a pretty mundane life in NYC.  It's irreverent and raunchy and really very funny, but not usually profound.  Last night's episode, though-- it was downright heartwarming.  Louie discovered the beauty of good neighbors, taught his kids about fairness, and told a lot of jokes along the way.

And there was this one line, spoken to the 4 year old daughter who was jealous of her sister:

 "The only time you should look in your neighbor's bowl is to make sure they have enough."

And that got me.

To make sure they have enough.  Not to see if they have more.  Not to see if their floors are cleaner, their decorations more stunning, their gifts more impressive.

Just to see if they have enough.

This holiday season-- its been sneaky, arriving so fast, life all in a rush around it.  Hardly time to clean or breathe, much less shop.  Much less root around in my purse for change to put in the bell-ringer's bucket.  Or pull out the coats I've been meaning to donate.  Or spare a moment's thought for my neighbor's bowl.

There is a child in Jack's classroom who does not have any winter boots.  Whose family just got their heat turned back on two weeks ago.  There is not enough in their bowl.

There is enough in mine to share.

I don't mean for this to be a depressing post.  Stopping to think about the caring I've not been doing, the kindnesses I've not had time for-- somehow that is the cure for Christmas Desolation.  Amid the lights and the ribbons and the gaiety and the rush of the season there is emptiness, darkness much more real than my small litany of complaints.

But there is also the chance to do something about it. And there is time to slow down and try.

Time to refocus.  Time to see all the light.  Time to do my best to spread it.

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And in the meantime,  some pictures for you.  This time, rewinding to the week before Thanksgiving, while Nat was out of town at the AAR conference-- a wonderful meet-up at the History museum, lunch out in Little Italy, and hosting Greg for the afternoon.  Three crazy kids squeezed into a Hyundai!  And these two big boys, such friends, playing so well together.  A grand day.

And, the day after Thanksgiving.  First snow of the season = first sled of the season.  Never mind that they were sledding on grass.  It was slippery grass and that's all that matters.  The girl can pull her own sled back up the hill now.  If that doesn't make her seem grown up, I don't know what will...

Shortly after sledding, Nat and I ran off for a short getaway at a cottage in Mansfield.  Actually, I kidnapped Nat, surprising him with the secretly planned trip for his birthday.  It was a ton of  fun-- the secret planning, and the time away as "just us".  We rather like "just us."  And nice dinners out and thrift shopping and exploring a new place together.  Lucky us.

We decorated for Christmas that weekend, and had a cozy evening with friends amongst the stockings and garland and Christmas music.. which yielded this moment:

Christmas kisses.  I love these children.

Finally, a sneak peek at Christmas photos 2013.  Cards to come!  Sometime.  :)