I've wanted to write a year end/year beginning post, to reflect on all the wonders of 2011, and all that I'm working on for 2012.
But, after a pretty magical Christmas season this year, we had a tough border between the old and new year. My sister in law's mother passed away very suddenly, Jim's dad spent some time in the hospital (he's doing okay now), and it looked for a while like we were going to have to make final decisions about my dear Scout dog (she's doing better for the time being). All emotional events, each life altering to varying degrees, enough to make me pretty darn sober about the dawning new year for a while.
For right now, 2012 seems to be about helping and supporting those I love that are aging, the ones that are sometimes suffering, and those that are grieving. It's about continuing to be grateful for all that we have been blessed with, and for finding the ways that this year can be built on creating good things and good memories, even as we struggle to deal with difficult ones.
I have some small, concrete ways I'm working on staying more organized and healthful and overall just mindful this year, that hopefully I'll be able to share in more detail as the year unfolds. I'm hoping I start to feel more like writing, and writing with more purpose and intention. November's gratitude project really got me excited about having a reason to write everyday, so I'm hopeful there's something like that awaiting me this year.
In the spirit of making sure I capture and celebrate as many of the things that are good and right with my world, I thought this was as good a time as any to share some of the highlights of conversing with O. and N. over the last month or so.
(I should say, that another reason I had not shared some of these in a while is that there seemed to be many more from N. right now than O. I'm going to just chalk it up to the fact that she is at a particularly adorable point in her thinking and sharing. Also, O. is in first grade. Which means he is not only not at home all day, he is also nearly physically incapable of uttering a sentence without the word 'fart' in it.)
N., snuggling before bed: "You'll always be my little mommy. I love you by my heart."
N., indignant about being asked to help clear off the table before dinner: "What am I, Cinderella, and you're my evil stepmother?"
O., home from tae kwon do: "I'm working on my macaroni punch!"
O., commenting on a neighbor's Christmas lights the week of Thanksgiving (I told you these were old!): "Geez, dude. I think someone's getting ahead of himself!"
O., running from the family room near L., to the kitchen: "I'm getting out of the poopy section!"
N., every day after we purchased her Christmas dress until I finally let her wear it to school: "Is it a special occasion today?"
N., losing at Old Maid: "Hicklesticks!"
N., refusing to help me empty the dishwasher: "Princesses don't do chores!"
N., discovering a snapshot of O. from two years ago: "Awww. Look at this picture. O. was so cute then. That's when he was nice to me. He was really helpful then."
N., as I try to discuss with her a new trend of tears at preschool: "Can we get over this already?"
O., to N.: "You're a shenanigan."
N., reporting about our trip to the Children's Museum in Indianapolis: "Of course I had a favorite. There was Barbies there! Can you guess what was my NOT favorite? The dinosaurs."
N., parenting judge: "That was two things you were right about today. You're a great mom."
N., to her dad: "Can you just give me a rest, please? Mommy already told me all that."
N., cheerleader of failed Pinterest projects: "But Mommy, you I thought you don't ever give up."
N. to L., who keeps knocking down her wall of pillows on the couch: "L., can you just let me wewax!"
O. to N., when she complains that the living room is too messy for them to present their planned stage production: "N., it's okay. It's not the end of the world. Geez."
And okay, Mr. L. has a few words of his own to share:
Woof. Dow. (dog/Scout)
Hot! (for candles, coffee or ovens)