A New Year Dawns

Whew. It's been quite a year. A whirlwind of birth, illness, doctors, negotiation, adjustment, and out and out change.

I have some New Year Resolutions.
1. Exercise. Even just a little bit. I saw myself naked in the mirror the other day and I was very, very frightened. Even worse, I am winded walking to the mailbox. I just to be fit, honest.
2. Drink more water. Dehydration is the largest contributor to fatigue in women. This will cut into my coffee habit, however. The deal I am making with myself is one (big) glass of water for every cup of coffee I drink.
3. Stop. Comparing. My car (1992 Lola the Corolla Wagon, o' faithful) to someone's new Cross-Country Volvo. My daughter to the crawlin', rollin', chattering machines at playgroup. And on and on. It's not healthy. It's not good. And I have difficulty stopping myself.
4. Figure out how to use my cell-phone. Yup, I have joined the rest of you. I decided I needed a cell-phone in case of emergencies with the kids (i.e., possible seizures), and my good friend James has graciously given his phone. I have yet to figure out how to program the phonebook or access voicemail. Maybe I should ask Francis to help me ...
5. Write at least 2 letters to my elected representatives about issues I care about. Namely, child-care, health care, and the environment. The budget may be balanced, but the big picture sure ain't. I need to do more than just complain about this.

That's enough, don't you think? I mean, I could go on and on, but more than 3 is quite ambitious, in my opinion.

Christmas with Kids

I find Christmas to be depressing. It is better now that I have Dan to share it with, but really, I just want to go to bed mid-November and re-emerge when the whole hullabaloo is over.

It's different with little kids, though -- it is better. You see the magic through their eyes. I normally do a Christmas tree ($20 from IKEA!) to try to lift my spirits, but when Francis came home and saw the tree, his eyes lit up. "Thanks, Mom!", he gushed sincerely. "It's beautiful!". Wow. More of that, please.

"Is it Christmas yet?", Francis asks daily. "Is it Christmas now?" We started the Advent Calendar last year as it occured to me it was a fun way to learn numbers. Even this year, it's taken a while for Francis to cotton onto the concept, as he wants to open ALL the boxes AT ONCE. (That the anticipation is part of the fun is a bit beyond him yet). He has a Playmobil calendar, which, although highly chokeable from Stella's point of view, has the advantage that it is not candy. (Francis has definitely inherited his mother's sweet tooth). Of course, I should be more AP and make my own Advent Calendar (check out the creativity over on SouleMama!), but alas, I wimped out.


We got pictures with Santa this year -- Francis was not as freaked out as last year, perhaps because he wanted to be sure that Santa knew what he wanted. (He's a good little consumer, our kid). Stella was completely nonplussed -- she was happy sitting on Santa's lap and checking out the fur trim on his suit. Francis has a two page wish-list of the loot he wants (any suggestions as to how to counteract the gimme's? ) -- Stella really just wants a lot of shiny, crinkly paper.

Imagine!

Francis' imagination is exploding lately -- it is so interesting to watch him and see what he comes up with. In the photo above he is playing "barber" and is "cutting" Stella's hair. (Don't see the connection with the paper towel? Well, to be honest, neither do I, but hey, I've never been to a barber). He followed the hair cutting with the brushing of mine and Dan's hair ... with a vegetable brush. (A bit of a yuck factor there).

Today we played "trolls" (I was Mama Troll and he was Baby Troll) and we hid in a "cave" (a big pile of blankets) and ate "worms" (Legos) and then "swam to shore" (climbed the stairs). It is also a really useful parenting tool, because I sometimes get some insight into what may be troubling him (or making him happy), and we can work through things by pretending.

Yesterday he pretended we had a TV (a Rubbermaid tote lid) with a video player (a toy piano) and we sat and "watched TV". Luckily nothing good was on.

I really enjoy myself when I have a chance to escape into Francis' imagery world(s). Why can I not capture these moments forever? I tell myself, I must remember, but I know I won't.