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Showing posts from December, 2015

Closing down 2015

We had a baby. He spent two days in the NICU. I cried when I met him. I cried when I held him with those tiny monitors attached to his chest. We took him home.
Friends brought us dinner. Friends we did not know were friends, but would become the very bestest of friends brought us dinner. We became Godparents-- again. Mom kept the babies-- the youngest at a mere four weeks old and we donned a tux and gown for the Heart Ball. We spent the night at the hotel and had to catch a cab the next morning in that same tux and gown. Husband started making his own beer. He has improved immensely. We went to see Elton John play, Stomp! perform, and Birdie got the day off from school for St. Patrick's Day. We were in the parade with our green clothes and big smiles. Husband was on call. Fuzzy was in the stroller. We dropped big dollars on big doors for the back of our house. Six doors slide so easily when they are new. Husband took a week off from work and volunteered at the golf course down on …

This isn't one of those trees where all the needles falls off, is it?

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Have you ever noticed how wistful people get during the holidays? It probably has something to do with the ornaments that see those happy memories during the wee morning hours with children and great arguments over toy assemblage in the late hours of the night.
Maybe it is the magic of transforming a tree into a magical winter wonderland. Something that we can only do a finite amount of times in our life and can only happen but once a year. Pulling out Grandma's Christmas china that she carefully packed away and used for this one meal a year- Christmas dinner; maybe that’s where the sappiness comes into play.
Like I said, have you noticed how wistful people get? And how they write about their memories of Christmases past?
This is not one of those blogs.
I have mentioned on several occasions that I am cheap. Pathetically and painfully cheap. Cheap-cheap.
Did you know that you can buy Christmas trees from Costco? Hand to God, you can. 10 pounds of boiled peanuts, $3 wheels of Brie …

The History of Tradition and how they Evolve

This is the weekend before Christmas. I am sitting at a white counter with the lights off in the kitchen. A woman, a very busy woman who raised five children, is cleaning the kitchen as she feeds grandchildren and makes plans with her husband. She is elated at the prospect of having her children under one roof soon.

I am sitting her watching my daughter jump at the grandmother's feet. My other daughter is sitting on the stool next to me, spinning around back and forth, forth and back... waiting. Waiting for Christmas. Waiting for her cousins. Waiting for the chaos and camaraderie that comes with cousins.

It must have been the lights being off and the grandmother multitasking-- or the white counter. Maybe the stools, or the fact that is the weekend before Christmas and our family is coming together to celebrate Christmas. Whatever it is, I am watching my daughters with such love knowing the excitement that is in their heart. To hear my grandmother say in the afternoon, "Kitche…

When?

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When did my daughter become such a young lady?  Apparently, I blinked...

We donned the ears

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It really is the Happiest Place On Earth. Or, as my mother says, "The Merriest Place on Earth."

Husband got some much needed rest. Birdie got some time with the two of us and I got to ride Space Mountain. It was so easy to fall back into step with the three of us and "go and do" as we once did when we lived in a teeny tiny apartment within our nation's capital.


We remembered why we had kids. We remembered how great it is to be a family. We remembered to smile more.

To say we are stressed is comical. Husband is working, I am working, the kids are getting picked up and dropped off left to right. It's a fun life, and I appreciate it-- butttttttttttt we realized that we had forgotten to have the fun that we love so much.


We made up for lost time. This was the first time since before we were married that Husband has had a week off.

The long and the short of it is that I am so glad that we saved for this trip, setting aside money each month so that we could pay f…

It's not that I mean to...

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It's just that the time goes by so fast. I hear it all the time, especially from grandmothers. They are so wistful when they say-- and they all say it-- "It goes by so fast."

That, my friend, is not necessarily a bad thing. But by it going by so fast, it gives me fewer minutes in the day to hammer out these moments in this space here, with you.

At this exact moment, I am sitting on a farm-- in my car with two kids in carseats in the backseat. Birdie is in the middle of her horseback riding lesson and I am thumbing through pictures, wondering if I can get off easy this year and give pictures of my children to grandparents as gifts. It's easier than thinking about something they need or want.

But I love Christmas, so knowing me-- and sometimes I know me pretty well-- I will try and go easy on myself and get a picture as a gift, but will end up getting something else that I deem creative and fun. I remember once, a friend told me about an ancient cookbook her mother bou…

Donning the Ears

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It's short... but it is to the point:

We are having fun.







Life is good. It's amazing. It's one of those we are lucky enough to call our own.