Feeling the Season

Ok, once again, I stole -- err, borrowed -- a wee bit from Boho Girl (perhaps it would be better to say that she inspired me -- she does that a lot). She began her blog post today with the phrase, "Today I woke up really feeling the season." And suddenly, amidst a somewhat bad headache and millions of errands to do and cookies still to bake and work days left to get through, I realized with a smile that I was too. Really, truly, totally, fully feeling the Christmas spirit, cheer, joy, peace, happiness, vibe, christmasy-ness....

Something about this day has revved up my holiday engines and I'm excited about the week. Was it our family Christmas card that is finally finished (thanks to both friends DR & Kelly!) and one printing job away from being ready to send out? I can't wait to send this card out -- it so perfectly represents our year, and my hopes and dreams as a family...

Was it deciding last minute to buy gifts for the boy's daycare teachers and having my other friend Jen talk about having to return some ornaments whereupon I exclaimed, "Wait, this is perfect! I'll buy them from you!" -- saving us both an extra errand?

Was it joking with the police officers outside Macy's when I asked for directions? I got a wee bit confused and needed quick direction help -- they wanted to charge me $5 for the info. I stood my ground (all of us smiling) and pointed to the Salvation Army Kettle that I had just thrown a few bucks in and told them their "fee" was over there...

Was it the cold, crisp air? We got snow over the weekend, and it's cold out, but bundled up, it's not too cold, certainly not too cold to walk outside (instead of driving) for the lunch hour -- it's the first day of winter officially, and that feels just right for the holiday season today....

Was it making the obviously overworked post office clerk smile? I asked her how she was holding up, and she responded with a totally straight face, "Just another day in paradise." Which, of course, made us both look each other in the eye and totally crack up with real, genuine laughter...

Was it the guy at Chipotle who, in the midst of a seriously insane line of people, took the time to talk and joke and smile at EVERY person, wishing each and every customer (including me) with true exuberance and happiness in his voice (absolutely shining in his eyes), "You have a happy holiday!"...

Was it finding those very last two perfect gifts for two dear friends I wanted to thank? Walking by a certain store sparked an "OF COURSE!" The icing on the cake (the star on the tree?) is that these last two gifts came from a local merchant. Much as I love shopping online, it does my heart good to shop truly local...

Is it looking forward to the end of the day, when I can pick up Grif, make him dinner, play with him, watch him, laugh with him (and read to him -- he's crazy about reading these days) all before he goes to bed whereupon I will dive into rolling out the four cookie doughs in my fridge waiting to be baked?

Is it the phone call I'll get from Jim as this day closes, from a different city, probably in a different time zone, where I'll get to tell him all these magical, minute details that happened today?

I'm still not sure. It's all of these things. It's none of these things. It's something deep inside that I can feel is finally aware, awake, alive with the holidays. Which are about giving. And receiving. And being thankful. And being hopeful. And all about just feeling the season -- being here, in the present, to feel feel feel the season. Which, thank the universe, I am today.

Stealing the Babies

I've been thinking a lot about Griffin these days (and yes, I know, when do I not think/marvel/dream about him?). Wanting to incorporate more of the joy and worry and stunning-ness that surrounds being a mother. I stare at him all day long -- even when I'm at work, I have a "wall of Griffin" that chronicles this year....he is truly a beautiful child (and yes, I am a wee bit biased). So many different expressions and looks -- his blue, blue eyes mesmerize me, his smile truly melts my heart. So much so that I often get teary looking at him, being thankful for him....being thankful for my motherhood.

I never thought it would be like this. I know that's an understatement for all parents, but I truly was worried at certain points in my life about my ability to love a child. How having a child would change my relationship with my husband -- how could I split my heart and divide my love for my husband with a child? Would I be a good mother? Could I be a good mother? Did I even truly want to be a mother? It was such an abstract idea -- who would this child be that would be mine? There was so much that would be sacrificed, changed, and I had no way -- no possible way -- of knowing what I would gain instead. That I would get a Grif. My adorable, fabulous, amazing boy...

As a child, teenager and young woman, I was not "in" to babies -- I didn't babysit (the few times I tried it because it was the thing that girls "did," it was a total disaster...I had to call my mom to come over and help), I have never ooh'd and aah'd over babies or children. I don't think commercials with children are automatically cute. I didn't want a flowergirl or ring bearer at my wedding, nor were any kids under 16 allowed at the reception. "Here, hold the baby!" Eek, do I have to, really? I had never been the kind of female that ever really felt that overwhelming need or desire to have a child -- I didn't not want to have a child, it just wasn't something that I was focused on. Or thought I needed.

Until now. I've said it before -- my husband is my heart and my soul, but Griffin is the center of my universe. I had no idea motherhood would knock me over like this, would consume me, fill me, become so much of who I am now. Even babies -- I still don't want to hold everyone's baby or coo at everyone's child, but I can see the beauty and wonder in their faces so much more clearly now. And rest assured, if I go out of my way to comment on your child, I truly mean it. Children crack me up -- and perhaps this above all, this window of realization, makes me laugh even more.

So today I'm stealing. Even two years ago, this movie probably would not have caught my eye. I would have maybe seen the trailer, thought it was interesting, but not really something I'd go out of my way to see. What a difference a year makes. I'm laughing even now....this movie does more than intrigue me. And I'm sure that it is only because I'm a mother now.

I saw this on Boho Girl's blog -- and now I'm sharing it with you.

I love the holidays. Really.

So why am I struggling through these days? Feeling anxious, somewhat let down, knowing that although I am not yet on the verge of tears, if I let myself really give in to the feeling I have in the pit of my stomach, I could start weeping at any second. Why this mental meltdown? I love the holidays -- I love shopping for just the right gift, something unique and different, something that really means something as opposed to just buying things so that the receiver can have something to open on Christmas day.

I'm not a spendthrift. So Christmas shopping -- hell, even grocery shopping around the holidays -- is not something I do with any shred of frugality. Everyone in my life is so easy to shop for -- ooh, Grif needs this. Perfect, Jim's going to love this! I love the rush, and yes, even the silly, sappy, over-played Christmas music. I love decorating the house just so -- and getting ready for the holiday baking now that the big-turkey-mandatory-clam-chowder day is over. I love it all. It makes me feel warm. Alive. Happy.

So what's different this year? I still feel all these things, but they are tinged (tainted?) by a hint of hysteria. Of panic. Of sadness. Was it my birthday? Yes, I am one year closer to a huge (in my mind) age landmark, but this year's celebration was amazing (maybe that's it -- I'm still hungover?). I've been having a hard time with my mother lately, a daily struggle with emotions and words, so easily misunderstood across the miles and over the phone. So is that it?

Is it that, again, there is still so much left undone that I'd really love to learn how to make time for? I know I have to pick my battles (time, always, more time!) with what I can really do with my free time -- since, at the heart, I want every extra minute to be spent playing with Griffin or taking advantage of stolen days with Jim.

I got teary watching Disney's Prep and Landing the other day -- first because Jim DVR'd it so we could watch it (I love him for doing that -- I didn't even ask. The best surprises are like that.), second because the message was such a fun, simple, modern reminder of what this whole season is really all about. And yet...

For the first time as a blogger, I have no grand resolution to these questions. No lesson to try and remind myself of. No epiphany that writing has helped me realize, embrace, know. No "punchline." No immediate feeling of peace. Inner, solid, fulfilling peace. Am I having a mid-holiday crisis? Perhaps. Perhaps. And so I'll end this one with a song instead of words (and even this was a struggle -- the deliberately sad Robert Downey Jr. River? Or something with just a bit more...something?). And hope that whyever this melancholy is, wherever this sadness comes from, it will soon pass me on by. So I can enjoy the holidays. Really.

Rest, sweet rest

The TV is off, the book is shut...the light is still on, but soon to be extinguished as everything else that has wound down on this lovely, full-mooned night. To rest. Repose, sleep. Freedom from activity or labor, a place for resting, peace of mind or spirit, quiescent, motionless, free from anxieties, a letting go...those of you following along will know exactly where I got this list.

Sigh. To rest. I crave sleep (always, as a mother with a wee boy and a husband who's a pilot)(although I think it's par for the course for any mother, the rest is just extra). I live for the weekends when I can revel in a two-hour nap in the afternoons -- stolen time while the boy sleeps as well. Quiet-time just for me, on the couch in the living room...sweet, sweet naps!

But there's something to be said for the preparing of the night -- the night coming on, the feeling of sleepiness, the quiet that covers everything not unlike the cozy blankets on one's bed. I like -- no, love -- the idea of tiptoeing around the house, trying not only to keep from disturbing the sleeping Griffin, but to also not disturb this film of quiet, the aura of impending motionlessness, the glaze of heavy eyes and soon-to-be sweet dreams. I've been thinking about this nighttime silence for some time now, but of course, have totally succumbed to it and the much-needed slumber before I could take a few minutes to write about it (revel in it)...

Sunsets rather than sunrises. Always for me. The closing of the day -- regardless of how much was accomplished or left undone, how good or bad, successes or failures -- has a magic all its own. Is it hope? A promise of things to come when the day dawns anew? A peacefulness that comes from knowing that regardless of its events, this day has had its time and is now nearly over, past and complete? Or is it just sweet release from the day's busyness, craziness, go-go-goingness? A bit of all of it, but most of all, a letting go. A real sense of peace, not just peacefulness. Dropping the shoulders. Fully gathering the yawn, cozying under the covers, and resting. At rest. Ah, rest.