time enough

It's not so bad taking care of a sick kid, vomit on the sofa aside. $400 for an emergency enzyme wash at 8:00 p.m. was the remedy, if you're curious. The couch still stinks, if you ask me. Of course I have been coveting a settee from Trianon for a few years now, so my olfactory perception may be tainted by an ulterior motive. Anyway. It's a rare thing for my gal to stay still for any reasonable length of time, a trait she no doubt inherited from me, so the past couple of days were a welcome break for us both. And Mulan really is one heck of a movie (insipid Disney soundtrack aside.) In between Mulan and Mulan 2 there was time to whip up a few holiday cards. Stella sat quietly at my side, transfixed by the thrum of the sewing machine. I don't know if Stella will remember that half hour when she's older, but I think I will.

Despite five years experience there are moments when I feel like a mom-imposter. I can't really explain it, but maybe you know what I mean. I don't mean a going-through-the-motions ennui (though there is that too on occasion.) It's more feeling like I've overstated my qualifications and somehow landed this job of mother of two and now what the hell am I supposed to do? It's the weight of responsibility. I heard that as adults we tend to recall our childhood in absolutes: it was either fantastic, wonderful, amazing or it was complete torture. I feel that way about Christmas. I have a tendency to get stress-y about Christmas because my own memories are, fortunately, fantastic, wonderful and amazing. Snow-dusted. Happy. Loud. And of course I want nothing less than the same for my kids. Yet the more time I spend at this parenting gig, the more I've begun to realize that the times that bring me the most happiness are when I'm not concerned with creating a perfect memory, and I just enjoy the moment - whatever it is.

craftus interruptus

I was really looking forward to a quiet morning, at home, alone, to do some work and, as a treat, get cracking on the Christmas cards, for which I finally have a design idea, thank you Denyse Schmidt. But you know, a phone call from the school twenty minutes after drop-off never means good news. So the cards will have to wait while we watch Mulan for the umpteenth time, sip apple juice and hope for an afternoon nap. Back tomorrow with at least one finished card, I hope!

simple pleasure #1

Leaving the car in the driveway and biking to breakfast.

I don't know if posting vacation photos is a good idea. It feels a little nahnah-ha-booboo to me. But give me a chance; I'm going somewhere with this. See, we vacation in the same place at the same time each year. We take off after Halloween, leaving behind pumpkins and fall leaves and returning to full-throttled Christmas. Personally I feel it's too soon. Being away during what has got to be a frantic transition from scarecrows and bales of hay on the front lawn to boughs of holly and boxwood wreaths on the front door, I always feel slightly disconnected from the hub-bub. I prefer to ease into holidays. A little break between events is nice. Must my home always be decorated?

Rushing from one thing to the next without savouring anything in particular - when there is really so much about the season to love - leaves me feeling deflated when it's all over. It's like despite all the work, all the doing, I've somehow missed out on the best part. Over the last couple of years I've learned to pace things, so that we're not all completely Christmas'd out by the time the day arrives. Every year I get better at it, this editing of stuff to do, to buy, to see. Figuring out how to keep Christmas simple and meaningful is not an easy task, but it's increasingly important and worthwhile to me, and I'm guessing, to some of you as well. With that in mind, I'll post any good ideas or good blog posts I come across on the subject of keeping Christmas sweet & memorable & real.

I really liked the spirit of this swap, which I heard about here. It's a sharing of family traditions. If you'd like to participate, the swap is open for sign-ups until this weekend.

arrival

I feel like this on the inside.

The effects of a harrowing flight - a description I do not use lightly - erased after sinking bare feet into sand. A sunrise walk to the pier to sit silently among the early morning fishermen (or have they been there all night?) helped too. Hurray for holidays.

hobgoblins, jack 'o lanterns, warlocks

And a pirate in my bathroom.

Happy Halloween!