Ten things of thankful: almost Christmas

No, I haven't gone away again. The gap in posting was a combination of lethargy, fun weekend plans, end-of-year work projects, and computer issues.

Here's what's making my smile this week.

1. Studded snow tires. Seriously. These things rock. It only took me two tries to get up the icy driveway coming back from church today.

2. Live Christmas music

and

3. A new twist on tradition. Every year, Michael and I attend a Christmas concert by a brass quintet and a choral octet. It is one of the highlights of the season for me. This year, he was going to be away for the concert, so I roped the kids into going. They were great company, although Kid 4 fell asleep after intermission.

4. Warm cinnamon-roll bread. Someone delivered two loaves to a Boy Scout work party I was helping supervise. Yummy, especially on a snowy morning.

5. Our Christmas tree. The kids and I picked out a Fraser fir this year, and it has been the best-smelling tree we've ever had. It looks good, too, but let's face it, the smell is the main reason to wrestle a 12-foot combination of sap and needles into a tree stand.

6. Treats by mail. One of Michael's clients sent him some delicious treats in the mail. Some of which were clearly labeled, "Refrigeration not recommended. Eat within three days." Is it my fault he's going to be away for longer than that? Surely such high-quality creations deserve to be enjoyed at their best, even if not by the intended recipient? (We put one of the pies in the freezer for Michael to enjoy, and some of the treats can easily wait until he's back.)

7. The Best Christmas Pageant Ever. Although I've found to my dismay that Kid 4 seems to have outgrown having me read Christmas picture books to him (although I've seen him reading them to himself), he did still want me to read this chapter book aloud. We read it every year, and I always choke up at the end.

8. Electricity.

and

9. Fireplaces. We lost power for 5 hours on Thursday, and it turns out I should have listened to the niggling feeling that the generator needed to be serviced, because it didn't kick on in the outage. The oil furnace doesn't work without electricity, so once the kids go home, we huddled around the fireplace, reading and singing Christmas songs. It turns out, my kids have very little knowledge of secular Christmas songs, because our CD collection runs more to medieval carols, and we rarely listen to the radio. (Mountains + rural = bad reception.)

10. My cardinal. Our male cardinal (OK, I have no idea if this is the same one that was half of the pair who spent the summer here, but I'm pretending like it is) has been hanging out at the bird feeder this week, and he looks fantastic against the snow.

Worry--the guest that no one misses

As long as I can remember, I've been a worrier. A thinker. A planner.

What if X happens? I ask myself. And then I figure out what I'll do.

Sometimes this pays off. Last month, someone asked me how it was that we traveled successfully when our kids were young, and I realized in answering her that most of it could be summed up as, "Luck. And thinking about what could go wrong and finding ways to prevent it from happening."

However, my thinking and planning and worrying usually continues past the point of diminishing returns.

A few months ago, I was thinking and planning and worrying about stress during the last few months of the year. Between cross-country season and fall play and back to school and Spanish and Boy Scouts and my in-laws visiting and my husband traveling and all four kids having birthdays and Halloween and Thanksgiving and Christmas . . . there was a lot of potential stress. How could I have less of it?

I considered the number of commitments on my calendar and realized that I felt comfortable with that aspect of it. My choices had been carefully considered, and they were still right.

And clearly, I couldn't move the birthdays or the holidays.

What to do?

Maybe, I thought, maybe I can do what I need to do without stressing about it.

So I decided to give it a try.

Do the next thing.

Don't force decisions before they have to happen.

Trust it will all work out.

Sufficient to the day is the evil task thereof.

And you know what? It's working.

True, I paid $10 for $5 worth of Halloween candy to arrive at my college student's apartment before November. My husband wisely moved away from the counter and gnashed his teeth in a different part of the post office while I completed that transaction.

And we had a slight hiccup when I missed the deadline for ordering a wreath from my son's school fundraiser.

But you know what? When the wreaths arrived at school, I asked if they happened to have any extra I could purchase. And they did.

So, other than a few dollars' worth of postage that I could have saved, my new don't-stress plan has not had any downsides.

That's a small price to pay for a less-stressed me.

Ten things of thankful: election week

What a week. Adjusting to it being pitch black at 5:00 in the evening. The election (very bad news in our household). Tech week for the high school play. My second week of solo parenting.

So glad it's behind us.

That said, there were still things to be thankful for.

1. $10 ski boots. Yes, you read that right. There's only one zero. A neighboring town had their annual winter sports equipment consignment sale. Kid 4 said his toes were barely touching in his ski boots from last year and felt comfortable enough that he didn't need new boots. But he's 11, and this is not my first circus. I don't trust eleven-year-old feet. They grow at the most inconvenient times, and suddenly your kid is limping onto the concert floor because the required black shoes have overnight become two sizes too small.

So, I insisted we go bright and early to the sale to see if we could pick up a cheap pair of boots one size up, "just in case."

The woman fitting him said she's surprised he claimed the other boots are comfortable, because he fits the next size up quite nicely. And she found a pair that was $10. Ten dollars. It made my day.She recommended getting his bindings adjusted for the new boots and using them all season. We also found a good deal on ski pants for him and for me.

2. Library holds. The library emailed earlier this week to say that the book I had placed on hold had arrived. It was returned on a Thursday, and since it is new and I can't ever get to the library midweek, it would have been long gone by Saturday if not for the hold system.

3. Blue skies. I feel a little guilty about this one, because we are in a drought, but it's been nice to have blue skies and sun this weekend. It can rain all it wants during the week to make up for it.

4. Skype. I had two video chats with my husband this week, which is a nice change from texting. Kid 1 and I also Skyped, until our internet stopped cooperating and we switched to phone.

5. Cheap long distance. I live clear across the country from my family and from some very close friends. Saturday I had three lengthy long-distance phone calls. I can remember in my early childhood when a long-distance call was a Very Big Deal, and I'm so glad I can connect with those I love without worrying about the bill, on either side.

6. Hugs. I went seeking sugar on the morning after the election, and ran into a friend at the local bakery. She came up to me, said, "You look like you could use a hug," and hugged me. I hadn't realized until she said that how very much I did need a hug. Sometimes, when there are no words, hugs communicate best.

7. Kid 4's passion for all the things there are to learn and do in this world. And I need to remind myself that I really am grateful for this, because for the last few days, he has been pushing hard to add tai kwon do to the mix and it's just not going to work. I think he has finally heard me, at least for now. I think this because he is sighing dejectedly every time we're in the same room.

8. My Pilates class. Between one thing and another (mostly on the teacher's end), this was my first class in 6 weeks. I was dreading it just a bit, because it's always rough when you've been away from it that long, but at the same time, I knew my back would feel so much better afterwards. And it does.

9. Lavender pillow spray. My husband gets headaches from a lot of scents, so I rarely get to use it, but when he travels, I indulge. I don't know if it actually helps me sleep better, but it smells nice.

10. Voices of calm and  hope in the wake of the election. I especially appreciated the post 9 Real, Actionable Things We Can Do About Trump and the multiple repostings of this illustrated guide to what to do if you see harassment.

Ten things of thankful

Every week, my sister hosts a "Ten Things of Thankful" blog round up over at Thankful Me. I'm giving it a try this week.

So, in roughly chronological order, here are some things I was thankful for this week.

1. Halloween. I love Halloween in New England, especially when, like this year, we don't have to deal with rain or snow. It's more of a community event than I remember it being when I lived in Utah or Oregon. Each town has its own particular quirks: the house that hands out baggies of fresh popcorn; the house that gives extra candy to kids who do a trick (jokes count); the house that plays opera on outside speakers; the house with the sound of a chainsaw coming from the barn, the house that hands out jello shots (in plastic containers so you can consume them after you drive the kids home) to the parents.

This year, only Kid 4 was young enough to go trick-or-treating, and he and his friends lobbied to go around the village without parental chaperones. The parents discussed it and agreed--as long as the kids agreed to check in via walkie-talkie throughout the evening.

I also made Kid 4's costume with visibility in mind. Which brings me to . . .

2. Pushing the envelope. I almost always buy Halloween costumes, but for some reason, when Kid 4 and I started talking about his costume this year, I began by doing a Pinterest search for easy no-sew Halloween costumes. A jellyfish costume caught Kid 4's eye, and he confessed to having wanted to be a jellyfish the previous year.

Crafting is so not my strength, but I was able to put something together that was recognizably a jellyfish. And it was white, and had LED lights, so kiddo was extra visible for his first unchaperoned trick-or-treat.

3. Fun field trips. Kid 4 got to spend Friday night in the Boston Science Museum. I am thankful for the adults who rode in a bus and slept on a museum floor to give him that opportunity.

4. Great local theater. Friday night, I went to see a great production of a play by a local playwright.  I live within 15 minutes of three community theaters, but this one is our "home" theater, so I knew almost everyone involved with the production. I drove home on a theater high.

5. My kids' cross-country coach. Eight years ago, Kid 1 came home from 7th grade and told us he had joined the cross-country team. Privately, my husband and I agreed this wouldn't last two weeks. Kid 1 ran all through high school, and the twins joined up when they got to 7th grade. The coach is a character, prone to putting his foot in his mouth. He also loves running and loves the kids, and he fosters determination and team spirit better than anyone I've met. My kids are blessed to have him in their lives.

6. Cross-country meets. Yesterday was the final cross-country meet of the season for my kids. After dropping the kids off at school to ride the bus, my friend (whose son is also on the team) and I went out to breakfast before driving to the meet. We arrived early enough to walk the course, which was especially scenic, even this late in the fall. It was cold, but we lucked out and had only a little rain. Spending the day outside, chatting with parents, cheering on the kids, and watching the kids cheer on each other is one of my favorite things about fall.

One of the runners on the team is . . . not fast. He is running because he wants to share the activity with an older brother, but running is not his gift. He comes in minutes after the next slowest member of the team. And yet, when he hits the home stretch, he has a crowd of teammates cheering him on.

7. Pumpkin-stuffed French toast, with whipped cream and real maple syrup. It completely violated my post-Halloween vow to eat healthier, but it was worth it.

8. My small group at church. As part of preparing to be received into the Episcopal church last month, I met regularly with the priest and the other people preparing for reception. We found our time together so enriching, we decided to keep meeting even after our reception. We met today and had a lively discussion on All Saints Day and what sainthood means to us.

 9. Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Kid 2, Kid 4, and I started watching this together on Halloween. They are enjoying it as much as I thought they would, and I'm enjoying sharing it with them.

10. Reading time. Kid 4 and I started a new read aloud this week. I'm glad he still likes being read to.

What I read in October

The Dark Forest by Cixin Liu--It's hard to talk about this book, the second in a trilogy, without telling you things about the first book that I want you to be free to discover on your own. Suffice it to say that the English translation of the first book won the Nebula in 2015, I was expecting to be disappointed with the second book, and I wasn't. I'm not generally a fan of hard science fiction, and I find this trilogy challenging at times, but the questions it poses and the answers it posits make the effort more than worth it.

A Man Called Ove by Frederik Backman--Another translation, this time from Swedish. My mother-in-law gave me this book for my birthday back in the spring, but it didn't come to the top of the reading queue until the fall. The first chapter made me laugh out loud and annoy my children by reading bits of it to them. Ove is a delightfully lovable curmudgeon.

The Plot Against America by Philip Roth--I picked this up on a whim, because I was running out to pick up kids, thought I might need to wait a bit, and none of the many books I am in the middle of happened to be in the room with me, so I grabbed this one off the shelf. It's an alternate history in which Lindbergh (yes, that one) defeats FDR in 1940 and cozies up to Hitler. It was like reading about the current election without reading about the current election. I was engrossed by this book right up until the last page. The ending felt as if Roth realized he had hit his word count or reached his deadline, slapped a final sentence on the book, and mailed it off. I can't think of the last time I've been caught completely off-guard by a bad ending. Usually I have ample warning that a book is going to disappoint, but this one felt like a slap in the face.

I also listened to almost all of Galileo's Daughter, which I read in 2012. It was my book group's selection for the month, and I decided to give audio books another try, because my library system had it available in that format. Nope, still don't like them, and not only because the last two files didn't download properly. This is actually a decent book, even the second time through. The parallels with the current religious objections to the teaching of evolution are as obvious as they were the first reading, but this time I thought more about why I found Suor Maria Celeste--a nun who was sincerely devoted to her father--somewhat annoying.  I wanted her to be angrier that Galileo simultaneously didn't pay to make her legitimate, like he did for her younger brother, and wouldn't let her marry because anyone who would offer to marry an illegitimate woman would not be worthy of the Galilei name. I did not want her to be so grateful for the chance to sew collars for Galileo. It's hard to shake my feminist ideals.

The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson--Much like when I read Dracula several years ago, I wished I could have read this book fresh, without having it be part of my cultural background for as long as I can remember. It would have been more suspenseful. And yet, there was still a fair bit I didn't know, so the final reveal was interesting, and the Victorian exploration of human nature was somewhat unexpected.

Reach out and touch someone . . . or not

My community experienced a tragedy last week. One of those moments that becomes a new milestone in life, a stake in the flow of time by which we date future events. Years from now, people will still talk about where they were when they heard the news.

I was sitting on my couch, checking my email after having returned from being officially received into the Episcopal Church. On the drive home, I'd been musing over whether to blog about that.

And then suddenly, nothing mattered except the tragedy.

Social media exploded, and the schedule filled with opportunities to gather with others in times of communal mourning and meditation.

My immune system took that moment to find another cold I had somehow missed in the last month. And not just any cold: fever, chills, sore throat, cough, laryngitis.

While my community walked together into grief, greeting casual acquaintances with hugs, I've felt honor bound to hold myself aloof.

I watched the embraces, the clasped hands, the kisses. Anytime someone approached me, I warded them off, "I have a really bad cold."

This afternoon, I stood on hill beside a pond, feeling on my back the warmth of the sun breaking through the clouds, listened to eulogies for someone far too young, and watched parents face the unimaginable, surrounded by people who love them. 

The service was four cough drops long.


 

I'm baaaaaack

When I stopped blogging back in 2013, I told myself that I was going to use my blogging time to get caught up on our photo albums.

Way back in the mid-90s, in a burst of twenty-something enthusiasm, I decided that in addition to a family album, I needed to create an album for each child, so that when they left home, they would have photos and we would have photos.

And then I had four kids.

And we got a digital camera, which resulted in more photos than I thought possible.

I've been behind on the albums for at least a decade. Just when I'm about to get caught up, I visit my family, avid photographers all, and I sink under the deluge of great photos they take of our time together.

I finally broke myself of treating each picture as if it might be the only remaining documentation of someone's life. (Having a mother who is an avid genealogist can have some weird effects on a person. My kids are millennials. An underdocumented life is not going to be a problem they face.)

I embraced digital scrapbooking, which allows me to create pages for five photo albums for the effort of one.  

The photo albums are still exhausting, and I do almost anything to avoid working on them. The truth is, I suffer decision fatigue about 20 seconds in to each scrapbooking session.

Of the three similar photos of the kids in this location, should I pick shot 1, 2, or 3? How many pictures do I need of our time in the botanical gardens in Copenhagen? Do I have too many photos of Kid4, who is still young enough to like posing for photos, and not enough of the self-conscious teenagers? Do I have to include one photo of each person on each day of our trip?

Too. Many. Decisions.

However.

Twice in the last month, I've found myself looking things up in past blog posts, and I realized that I miss not having a blog record of the past three-and-a-half years.

And I'm egotistical enough to think I have things that are worth saying, and I miss not having a platform.

So I've decided to jump back into blogging, photo albums be damned.