I wrote this a few days ago, and hadn't found the time and space to complete it and tack on some photos. The last few months have been a whirl of new experiences, new interests, less time, and re-prioritizing. Right now, I have a tasty cup of Aero-press coffee at my side, my man has the day off and both kids are sick--although you wouldn't know it based on energy levels (I'm attributing that to the Thieves oil I put on their feet last night).
Even though I turned 39 less than two months ago, I can feel the weight of what this year, 2015, brings: my 40th year on this planet. And with that comes a strong urge to get my shit together. To find the balance of health, wealth, organization, creativity, vitality and life, and to do it with my monkeys at my side.
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I've been noticing what little evidence is left that we once had babies in our home. Crib, changing table, potty chair...it's all gone. Cloth diapers have been relegated to the rag pile (too scrappy to pass on). What little remains of babyhood is all boxed up in the attic, waiting to be passed on in 30 years to some future grandkid, or made into a memory quilt. We have a 3 year old and a 5 year old now. Two ferociously strong personalities circle our home.
Yesterday both kids were crawling under the Christmas tree, wagging their tails high in the air. Bare, little feet stuck out--those soft, pink, padded toes. I wanted to lock that moment in my brain, to remember this, always.
I have been tucking notes away on Hazel for the last year and a half. All her little quirks, come and gone and on to the next. (I have a long overdue letter to Hazel coming very, very soon.)
2014 was the first year I didn't have a kid sharing my bed. Looking back, so much of my focus was trying to get my own projects done; to do some things for ME after four years of dedicating my life to these small humans. I did that, but in my wake I left behind a frantic, disorganized mess.
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I like my holidays to be of the slow, dough-kneeding variety. This year, we were far from it. It was hectic, busy, too fast, not enough. (As of today, I still have a stack of "New Year's" holiday cards to mail.) It was December 15th by the time I got our advent calendar on the wall. I read somewhere that you should take all your holiday traditions and activities and drop them. ALL of them. Then, slowly add the ones that have the most meaning for your family and skip the rest. To some degree we did that (we had to), but I could do some more cutting and pasting.
We have been so lucky in that family has come to us for Christmas since we've lived in this house. This year was no exception with my in-laws here for Christmas followed immediately by my husband's brother's family and out-of-town friends for New Year's. For you: a shotgun photo montage of our holiday:
:: We adopted a dog from the shelter. She is 4 1/2 and was found running along the highway with badly infected puncture wounds in her rear end. Turns out, the other dog in her home was attacking her; the owners relinquished her to the shelter. They patched her up and we took her home. Her name is Ladybug (original name was Lady). She is a super sweetheart; she doesn't bat an eye at the kids' crazy antics. She is mellow in the house, but is tightly wound with energy the second she gets outside. She is loyal to us, but will bolt if off-leash. We have some obedience training to do, but she is a little lover.
The performance. I told Juniper she is a playwright and director.
:: Minus 2 degrees on the sled hill, Hazel and my man.
With my husband's brother, his wife and the cousins too.
^Our good friend T and Aunt D watching fireworks.^
^Hazel burned her mittens while I was taking this photo. Oh, the sacrifices of getting a good shot.^