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Lucky
This morning I woke up to the sound of my door opening, a little body creeping around the bed and a little wiggle as the covers were lifted and that boy nestled in with that daddy of his. Not long after we had a ten year old one, the girl, nestled alongside the first. They both know which side of the bed to start on. Mommy is a grump upon first rise; if you’re smart, you go to Daddy.
And it is so.
In life we have those connections that radiate out from one person. While the spokes connect all of us, usually one person sits at the hub, bringing peace to the rest of us. Bradley is that in our family.
If you can’t find something, he will look until it is found. If you’re feeling lonely, he will always take a minute to sit with you and make you feel important and worthy. If you want to vent, he will listen, then, remember it so that next time when a similar issue arises he is there with background schema to assist with the processing. If you need to feel important he will stroke your ego. Most importantly, he makes us all feel so loved. So loved, in fact, that at times it is difficult to steel ourselves to go out to the outside world, where our masculine husband/daddy shield is missing; where we have to stand alone and deflect the arrows or celebrate independently.
I want to share everything with him, every moment. Like, I seriously wish he would just start coming to work with me every day. Teaching would be awesome with him in the classroom. Not only would we be a great teaching team, we would have so much fun.
Today I count myself as tremendously blessed as I get to celebrate the birth of my husband. We don’t officially officially celebrate with presents and stuff until June, when the distance between Christmas and a birthday make us a little more open for joyous celebrations, but today we spend a quiet day just being. We ran, we ate, we played, we sat and chatted, we laughed, we cleaned up a throw-uppy little boy and nursed a fever, but mostly, we were a family. And at the center of our family is this fabulous man who just happened to change a digit in the ones column today.
Cheers to you, my love, for surviving another year, and cheers, too, for the Lucky Lj’s, who get to revel in the light that you shine for this, and many many more years in the future. We love you! Merry Birthday.
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Christmas Eve
This Christmas Eve was spent with the Delaney family in their home over gluhwein, lasagna, dessert and salad. The kids did that rambunctious thing that a herd of five kids do on Christmas Eve- they hollered and screamed, they wrestled and ran, got quiet for a moment and started over again. It was great fun.
After that, we came home to open our Christmas jams. The boys got TMNT jammies while the girls got out Disney Minnie Mouse ones that we bought on vacation. The kids said a tearful goodbye to the elves and they were off to bed where they crashed right out.
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Snow Day
12.22.13 | Permalink | | Comments Off on Snow DayWe had some snow here in the Pacific Northwest the other day. We accumulated, like, a whole two inches or so but school was still called off for me (so grateful!) while Gigi was two hours late. Bradley, being the super kind and thoughtful Papa Bear who he is, heard there would be snow and quickly got our lawn snow ready by picking up dog droppings and mowing the grass one last time before handing it over to grandfather Winter.
We ended up with a snowman who looked like he had stubble all over his body from the gras embedded in his every surface. It mattered not. After no snow last year, this snow was like magic. Today we have a little, one-inch slab of snow sitting in a field of blades of grass, surrounded by a carrot, some rocks and various other debris from the yard. Bradley the snowman has since been cannibalized into a million miniature, grassy snowballs (three of which are in our freezer) and all that remains are those little remnants. It matters not, though. How does the song go?
…He’ll be back again someday!
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Friends in High Places
12.20.13 | Permalink | | Comments Off on Friends in High Places
When I was in second grade we still acknowledged that Christmas exists in public school. We had our halls festooned with brad-articulated Santas, Christmas was included in the curriculum and no one ever thought anything of a real, live Santa marching through the hall (I actually remember having to change the door decoration in 6th grade to say ‘Have a cool Yule’ instead of ‘Have a Cool Christmas’. That was the year it all changed. 1983-1984… ). I was sitting in my second grade classroom, at my desk, minding my own business, doing my work or picking my nails or something when this tall, slender man comes trotting into our classroom wearing a red suit, elf hat and big black buckle. Santa! Santa? He looked awfully familiar, sounded familiar and when his eyes met mine, I knew exactly who he was! My Grandpa Tassie was in town and he had that suit on! My face must have said a lot, because my grandpa still likes to tell the story of how he saw me recognize him and how proud he was of me that I didn’t say anything to any of the other kids. I waited until I got home to ask many questions about how he ended up in that suit, but more than anything, it was pretty cool to be inducted into the club of people who get to keep Christmas magic and Santa alive through their combined belief and assistance.
After telling my kids the story about my own Grandpa being the Santa at my school I asked them if they knew of any Santa-like men in our family. They immediately lit on my dad who has recently grown his own, very Santa-like, beard. He’s been telling stories lately about the way little kids are looking at him with big questions in their eyes once they take in his big, white beard. It takes just a little bit of time before my dad is asking if they have been good and he says the kids just come alive in front of him, warm and happy and, of course, on their very best behavior.
This is my brother, Bruce, and me
Santa must have seen this because he asked my dad to help him out and come check on a few kids in our neighborhood. Gigi and Jude were thrilled to be in on the secret- imagine- their very own Bop-bop in leagues with the real Santa! Their next jump was to turn to their own Daddy, look at his mustache and beard and ask if he will be Santa’s helper someday too? They started seeing a tradition that I had never even considered.
Santa came to our place last Saturday, in the heart of my dad and all the little kids who lined up to sit on his lap and tell him their wishes. It was lovely.
This was the Santa we saw in Disneyland.
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Elf Magic
Our elves returned after a hairy situation involving Jude and a bizarre night of neurological tics and behaviors landed us in the ER with lots of blood drawn and tests to be taken. It all turned out to be for naught, but those elves just knew we needed some lovin’ from the North Pole!
Presenting DR. Snowflake and Dr. Snowman
They helped with the diagnosis of too much sugar (hyperglycemia) from a sleepover event and the excitement of Disneyland and Christmas on the horizon.
The next night…
They were hiding out in the poinsettias with a note letting us know that they would help Santa while we were in Disneyland, but would be back upon our return. From there it’s been a series of fun events, not all of which have been captured, but here is one of their pranks:
Yep. They dropped the stockings and hung our undies instead, after a particularly trying day with lots of reminders about ‘smart choices’ to our kids.
And last night they made their own Disneyland ride of sorts, with a written warning to our kids about keeping rooms clean and making smart choices. Today it worked. Rooms are clean, smart choices made. Sigh. Thanks elves. 🙂
(And earlier bed times.)
