When you have children, nobody asks you if you're prepared to help with biochemistry homework. (Or even if you know how to change a diaper, but you figure that out.)
(Nobody asks an author if she's prepared to become a marketing guru, or a teacher if she's ready to double-up as a therapist, but there you go.)
Before long, we find ourselves doing what we weren't prepared to do because we have to.
Covalent bonds and ionic bonds and the families that make up the periodic table.
I sit there, wishing it would all come flooding back, but it doesn't — it's as if I've never seen these words before, I learn from scratch with my daughter, and thank goodness for Google and friends who are scientifically savvy, thank goodness the 13-year-old goes off to school today prepared to take her science test.
Even after boarding zillions of planes, multiple flights every single year of my life, I cannot believe that I can hop on a plane in Austin, Texas, in the morning and — by that afternoon — be bowling with cousins in Wisconsin. It's kind of a Christmas miracle, isn't it?
And speaking of those cousins. Wow. I'm blessed with extended family that isn't actually all that extended. We're tight, intimate, and so interested in and amused by and happy with each other. The whole slew of us. And if that's not enough, I'm blessed with that kind of family on both my maternal and paternal sides — aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces, nephews scattered the globe over but there for each other in all the most important ways. I love you guys…
Saturday, Gratitude 23
I'm sitting here looking at a nearly-frozen lake and a dusting of snow. My Tall One is baking a cranberry-apple pie. Yesterday there were two hikes, multiple hops in and out of the hot tub, lots of reading, a couple of naps, and some Christmas carols.
I love vacation. I love tradition and I love twists on tradition. I love lights and trees and big meals and I really, really love holidays.
I know Christmas can cause stress and shopping mania and over-commercialization and all that. But it can also give us a really good excuse to gather, to pause, to celebrate goodness.
May you all, in whatever tradition you live and belong, enjoy the spaciousness of this season….
Gratitude 19 — Tuesday
My kids love school but boy-oh-man am I grateful for winter break.
Exchange a few candy canes, hug the teachers, and hit the road.
We are ready for a new pace for a couple of weeks.
A lazy pace.
The end of alarm clocks.
An emphasis on card games. And naps. And giggling.
So grateful.
Gratitude 20 — Wednesday
The word grateful isn't really big enough to encompass how I feel when my husband gets a clean CT scan.
Cancer's in the rearview mirror.
Breathing big.
So grateful…
It was a lovely weekend here.
The right mix of festive and mellow.
Some of the mellowness was forced, I'll admit,
by a twisted ankle which meant no long runs or errand sessions.
I'll take it how I can get it…
Gratitude 16 — Saturday
I know it's the thick of the holiday season, a time for fancy food and drink and clothing, but today I am grateful for grocery-store sushi and Netflix. Because there is something about being really happy and comfortable in your own skin and your own house on a Saturday night.
Gratitude 17 — Sunday
I began Sunday with a group of women on a hill overlooking the lake, singing in the solstice. (The solstice isn't 'til midweek this week, but Sunday is when we could make it work…) We sang rounds. We sang African and Cherokee tunes. We sang with a dog twisting around our legs. We sang without song books, and a happiness at how many lyrics we remembered anyway.
And then I ended Sunday at a mostly-spoken-word performance called "What's Wrong with the Holidays." It was irreverent and hilarious and moving and really kinda brilliant.
In between, we hosted our annual gingerbread house party with a dozen kids and a lot of candy — equal parts architectural genius and sugar-driven silliness.
So I'm grateful for how many varied ways there are to mark this season, and I'm grateful for the community I live within, making it all not just appropriate but right…
Laugh all you want, but truly — the seasons have changed.
The skies this week are a constant papery-white — a non-color, really. The rain gauges rise and the temperatures fall. The beds and baths are so warm and right.
Which makes me even more appreciative than usual of my running partners, my workout pals, the folks willing to join me (or twisting my arm to join them) at 5:30 in the morning, in the dark and cold (and, truth be told, the heat of summer too) to get our heart rates up and our sweat broken. I don't know how I've been lucky enough to find you guys all these years, but I do know that I wouldn't be out there day after day after day if I hadn't.
With you guys, it's not just for the exercise. It's for the humor and the conversation, the comaraderie, the fresh air, the energy, the rising sun and the setting moon. I cannot imagine a better way to start my day…
Not to be all old-fashioned on you Words-with-Friends folks,
but I'm grateful for Scrabble.
Just the simple board.
The wooden letters.
The way kids (and husbands) will try to pretend any letters smashed together equal a word.
I love a night when the rain is dripping steadily off the eaves and the cats are asleep in a pile of laundry (so we best not disturb them to fold it) and there's nothing to do but play a game of Scrabble.
Don't you?
I'm so grateful to share my parenting journey with so many thoughtful, loving and funny people. What would I do without you all as support and sounding boards?
I was reminded of the wealth and value of this community tonight, at our middle school, when the smart and empathic Carrie Contey spoke to a library full of parents about teenagers and stress. There was Carrie, offering scientific explanations, good ideas and just plain old understanding, and there were all these moms and dads — some needing Spanish translation, some with little ones still at their knees, some chuckling about their adolescents and some pulling their hair out.
But nevermind all that. Because we were there altogether, for a few hours on a dark and rainy night, and when you go home after something like that it is not alone, but in good company. Which is, I think, the point…
My last few appreciations have made it into the journal by my bed, but not onto the interwebs. So, here goes…
Saturday I'm so grateful for the outrageously talented and creative community I live in the midst of — the musicians and the makers, the photographers and the foodies, and the many, many writers. Tonight, we were at a friend's gig, tomorrow there's an art opening. Real people, good friends, living their dreams — lucky for the rest of us. I'm grateful.
Sunday I'm not going to go on and on here because I don't want to ruffle the feathers of any of you fine folk who love other football teams, but I am grateful for the Packers. They are down-home, true-blue (or green, as the case may be), and dynamite. Plus, um, Aaron Rodgers?
Monday I'm grateful for the schools I send my daughters to — the schools that make me feel not just safe, but inspired and wowed. Schools that make them smile. That feed their curious minds and respect their open hearts. My memories of 5th and 7th grades are pretty mixed, but my girls are both in places where navigating adolescence seems natural (which, of course, it is) and exciting, and where days feel full of possibility. I'm really, really grateful for that…
Tuesday I am so thankful for my agent, and not just because she announced a sale for me today. (Though that always feels pretty sweet…) I'm thankful for her on all the days there aren't sales (which, let's face it, is most days). I'm thankful for her on the days we get turned down. The days I'm spinning out. The days I can't seem to put one word in front of the other. She is both tender and straight-up. She is encouraging and funny. She is a really great agent and a really great friend. Thanks, Erin.
So, I'm participating in a sort of Thankful-palooza this month. 30 Days of Gratitudes, articulated…
I am really, really enjoying it, and here's why:
When you know you're supposed to write about something you're thankful for each day, you spend the whole day looking for things you're thankful for, and dang if that doesn't result in a cup-runneth-over kind of mentality.
Honestly, I can't turn around without tripping over my cats (for whom I'm grateful) and my husband (for whom I'm grateful) and my kids and their sweatshirts and lunchboxes (for which I'm grateful) and my grandmother's creche set and my bookshelves and my running shoes and my neighbors and, well, you get the idea.
Today, I am feeling most grateful for the winter weather. I love the cold snaps we had this week. I love the pewter sky. I love pulling on jeans and boots and sweaters. I love the change.
And when I get up at 5:00 a.m. to go work out, I really, really, really love the seat warmer in my van. I know, I know. But it's the little things….
Relearning Winter
Mark Svenvold
Hello Winter, hello flanneled blanket of clouds, clouds fueled by more clouds, hello again.
Hello afternoons, off to the west, that sliver of sunset, rust-colored and gone too soon.
(Read the rest here) (And enjoy Poetry Friday here)
