Little Kite Girl

Happy New Year!

We “toasted” the New Year around 7:30 pm.

We wondered if anyone would make it to midnight…

But it quickly became apparent that midnight isn’t Cy’s style.

John came home from school for the holiday, and we spent the morning on a family playdate with some friends.  Then we came home, napped, and did lots of laundry so that he can head back to the Island early tomorrow morning.  He’s almost done with his MFA. And when he gets home he starts a new REAL job! Yay!

This year, I have a few goals. I shall enumerate them here for you now.  Because I know you’re dying to know.

1) Finish losing the baby weight I lost and gained back and kind of lost but not all the way.  My wardrobe would expand exponentially.  (I never know if I’m using that word right.)

2) Continue with my MA.  I’m not sure I’ll be done in a year, but I’d like to be close by next year.  Most of all, I’d like to take classes that I enjoy and defer my loan payments indefinitely.  (Spirit of honesty.)

3) Watch Juno at least 5 times.

4) Read the Book of Mormon.  John and I are finishing the New Testament, which is nice because that’s what I’m teaching this year in my Primary class.  But I think I need some personal study time again.  I need to make time for it.

5) And as for the slightly unattainable work-out goal (we all have one, even if it’s secret): I really want to try to get up and work out with John at 6am every day.  This means going to bed earlier and possibly sleeping in a Sports Bra.  Sexy.

6) I’m sure I should make some goals with regard to money.  But we’re so recently in the place where we might have an adequate (not excessive) amount that I don’t even know where to start.  So goal: read a Suze Orman book?  No. She bugs me.  Money goal TBD.

7) Read at least 1 graphic novel series. (Is that what they’re called?)  Because I hear they’re pretty good, actually. I’m guessing a compilation of Calvin and Hobbes doesn’t count.

8) Use the phrase “For shiz” less and find something new and awesome to replace it with.  Suggestions welcome.

9) Focus on quality of time together more and what I get done less.

10) Continue to take my serotonin re-uptake inhibitor.  Because yo.  I can sleep and I feel happy again.  And that’s that.

Christmas this year was so great.  Relaxing. Cy opened his presents in the morning.  (Thanks everyone who sent things for him! He loved EVERYTHING.) We waited until my brother got home Christmas evening to open presents as a family.

He loved his stocking.  The Thomas engine in the toe helped.

He loves his kitchen, but Thomas and Mac stole the show.  Which we knew would happen.  Looks like we could have spent $25 and had a completely successful holiday. Haha.

He got a load of cool stuff from family.  A turtle that projects stars onto the walls and ceilings and a moon that hangs on his closet door and goes through the phases.  He’s had a long time obsession with the moon. His room is quite the place to be come 8pm now.

I want to play Candy Land.  Right now! John and I have decided to wait until Cy goes to sleep so that we can play without being interrupted.

“Gunkle Gon” arrived and stole my little boy’s heart with some Tractor Legos, adding to the awesome set Auntie sent him.

And oh how they’ve played.

And then some great shots of two of my favorite men. (I have four now, crazy. Hint, another one is hugging my baby in the previous picture.)

And finally, our family shot.  We look pretty happy, huh?  That’s because we are.

Part 3!

We woke up this morning to this.

John was supposed to go to school today.  But since the storm was foreboding, he gets to spend another day home with us.  And although we did take a brief journey outside, the wind was too ferocious.  And we spent the most of the day watching Cy do this.

And then, this.  (Thomas went under the entertainment center.  Cy gathered both the stick and the Thomas flashlight for the rescue mission.)

All in all, I’d say it’s been a happy happy day. Week, really.  I have pretty high hopes for 2011, yo.

*Announcement: I’ve decided that I will be sending out Late JANUARY CARDS next month.  So you can await that happy arrival if you were really looking forward to mail from us. I’ve loved all of your cards and Cy loves them to.  He’s cute, see?

SO.

I haven’t gotten around to mailing out Christmas cards this year. I could blame it on the fact that the cutest, most recent picture of my son was taken in the bathroom in his PJ’s and happens to have pads and tampons in the background.  Ah-hemmm.  But I can’t even it blame it on that.

I simply…have not.  The last twelve months have contained some of the hardest moments of my life.  I can truly say that most of the last two years, in fact, have been a seemingly never-ending trial of my faith.  Battling sickness, underemployment, and a deep feeling of loss and fear at all the things that there are to lose in this life.  There are days that I cannot even look at my baby without thinking that it’s a miracle that he made it all the way into this life.  I’ve spent most of the year reflecting on the fact that many babies don’t.  Talking with a friend the other day I realized that I’ve spent the year going through the rountines of life, but rarely sought any friendship outside of my own house.

I was hiding.

And with that I’d like to announce…I think we’re coming out the other side of the fog.

We really really are.

I feel like somewhere between last December and now John and I finally became…submissive.  We let go of what we could not control.  We took the steps we could to better ourselves and our life together.  We stayed in love. We kept sending in job applications and interviewing.  I started a new masters program that is challenging and engaging and service-centered, and that I would have never found if hadn’t been for our struggles.  Our biggest blessing and Christmas present his year (as we did not afford presents for each other, just the Bubbs): John will start a new job on January 10th that will support our family and allow us breathing room and growth. And time together.  (With that I take a deep breath.) And our son flourishes.

I feel that the sadness and the fear that I’ve felt this past year have simply become part what I have to offer, but not a part of who I am. I feel buoyant again.  I’m not sure how to describe it, really.  It’s like those deep, drowning feelings have subsided, but the memories of really hard things have sunk deep down inside of me and will be there forever to remind me to be grateful.  To kiss my son’s face every day.  To honestly be able to lift up the hands that hang down* because my hands have hung so very low before, as they will again.  I’ve always known that it’s ok to be angry, but I have learned how if you pray about that anger long enough, you eventually earn patience and build real character.  I feel like some of those strong traits I recognized and admired in my grandparents and in my parents have budded in me.  Real life lessons that I can expand upon and use to connect with other people.  Especially my family.

(That said, I’m not sure how much longer I could have waited for substantial change to come. But I prefer not to think about it.)

Instead, I’m reading things like this and beginning, once again, to look out into the world and see goodness there.  I’m believing that we can be happy, and unhappy, and happy all at the same time.  Because life just works like that.

I’m feeling more at peace this Christmas, more full of joy in Christ, and more “sense of His care”**.  I feel a quiet sense of accomplishment at getting through this year.  And although throughout the year I felt very much alone, left to suffer and try and fail, I can now see how I have been helped and that we were under close supervision, never left on our own.  And if we had reached out more, we might have suffered less.

In the end, I didn’t feel like this wouldn’t come across as the CHEERIEST of Christmas cards to send out.  And honestly, I was teetering on the edge of this peace (it’s very recently found, you see) waiting for the job offer to become official.  But I hope you see it for what it is, REAL tidings of ABIDING Christmas peace.  Because I just couldn’t write anything else.

We know that Christ lives and that He is watching over our little family, and yours.  And for that, our hearts rejoice.

Merry Christmas!

I offer you, for your consideration, exhibit A.

I know what you’re thinking.  But let’s start this prime time TV style where I show you the HORROR SHOT totally out of context and then go back to the beginning.  The better to tantalize you with, my reader.

(I know that none of that made sense.  Work with me.)

I had a few goals this Thanksgiving.

a) Make no commitments requiring me to leave the house.

b) Read something, leisurely.  Specifically, the newest National Geographic.

c) Eat stuffing.

I would like to tell you that I achieved my goals.  I actually went above and beyond, and even took a NAP while Cy slept.  It was during this nap that my mother found out that she left the potholder under the turkey pan in the oven.  And she discovered this because it caught on fire.  She had a silent freak out in which she pulled it out of the oven and threw it into the sink, and then outside.  Where it sat as a silent testament to the culinary skill in this house.

It’s hard, you see, because although my Mom is a really good cook, she hates it.  It causes stress that cannot be alleviated without a hot bath and a Pepsi.  I feel the same way most of the time, except for the hot bath and Pepsi.  I’m also starting to understand another cooking aliment that has troubled her since I can remember: the absolute inability to  eat something once she’s spent hours cooking it.  It happened to me for the first time last week, and it was not awesome.

But even with all the fires and hoopla, the food was great, and a feeling of relaxation and thankfulness seemed to fill our home.  It’s been a really, really hard two years.  But I think we were all given some hope over this past week, some real excitement and hope for the future, and the holidays seem to be descending just in time for us to take time to really appreciate everything we have and everything we share even in the difficult situations we find ourselves in.

So.  Recap: A nap, leisurely reading, turkey and stuffing, kissing my baby boy’s cheeks and a small fire.

A good Thanksgiving.

I love Halloween.  I was telling my Mom the other day that I think a good percentage of my happy memories as a kiddo are from Halloween.  It’s a low stress holiday.  No expensive toys to buy, no cooking all day, no extensive travel or staying inside all day…it all leads to happy parents and happy kids.  This year Halloween happens to fall on a Sunday…which meant I had to figure out how I felt about Trick or Treating after church.  In the end I couldn’t imagine NOT going, and we made cookies and brought them to my piano students in a wee Trick or Treat “compromise.”  It was 20 minutes of pure joy, I tell you.

We did the baking on Saturday.  We didn’t make the cookies from scratch, because…well…actually…the pre-made dough was difficult enough for me.  John’s the real baker in the family.

Cy could tell the difference.

Then today we took our little Elmo Trick or Treating.  You may remember me saying that I was going to make Cy Chuck for Halloween.  Well…he wanted to be Elmo.  So, I guess my two years of choosing for him are done :)  Ah, the joy of a child getting older.

We only went to four houses (like I said…drove around and delivered our cookies to my piano students houses to say Happy Halloween) but at one of them he got THE BAR.  THE BUTTER BAR.  It was family size.  It was the love of his life.  He cried when I put it in the fridge.

But oh, there was joy.

Happy Halloween all.

Another year later, and we’re still waiting for the richer. ;)

Reading through my August posts from last year I noticed that a lot of things have changed in one year.  Nothing consequential, but a few things.  My vacuum quest has ended, which I’ll be writing about later.  I’ve learned to love those AI2′s or pocket diapers that were so mysterious to me a year ago, apparently.  Our child now sleeps through the night, although he did wake up last night all stuffed up and coughing.  And he still woke up a little after 7.  So some things change and some things stay the same.

More than that, though, we’re still here.  We’re still together.  We’re still moving forward with our life plans and getting degrees and enjoying our beautiful son.  Once again, I don’t think anyone plans on living with their Mom and Dad (or Mom and Dad in-law) on their 3rd anniversary.  But I find myself in the unique position of being grateful for where we are, who we are with, and the challenges and blessing we’ve experienced in the last three years.  We’d still like John to be able to find a better job. And I’d like for all the things I’ve been planning to work out in September.  But you know, all in time.

As for what I think we’ll do today…I’m really not sure.  I only learned last night at about 5pm that John had a personal day, allowing him two whole days off in a row.  Also: we’re not really rolling in the dough.  Each year we’ve tried to get something that goes along with the anniversary gift calendar thing…our first year, the paper anniversary (I was 8 months pregnant) we bought an Atlas for driving across the country and two books for our impending child.  Last year on the cotton anniversary we bought a blanket that started out on our bed and has navigated itself to Cy’s bed.  This year is our “leather” anniversary.  John was saying something about getting tattoos last night.  Maybe we’ll do that.  Nothing says leather anniversary like etching love affirmations in our flesh. My guess is we’ll go for something a bit different.

No matter what we do though, 3 years later has found us still working towards some common end, surrounded by people who love us and our son.  Good times.