A Thought

Just a brief thought on his amazing, historic day. How utterly cool is it that my 15 month old will never remember a time when the idea of a black president seemed an impossible dream? The answer? Very, utterly cool.

Another Admission...heh

Over my Christmas vacation, I took the opportunity to do some pleasure reading. In the week I had off, I read Stephenie Meyer's enormously popular Twilight series. Age-wise, I outpace the target demographic for these books by up to 20 years, but I, er, really liked them. I mean, I REALLY liked them. As is probably pretty clear to y'all by now, I'm KIND of a romantic. Lil bit. A well written love story is among my favorite things - it's the literary equivalent of a warm blanket on a cold day. I'm not particularly snobby about who writes the love story - some of my favorites are by Jane Austen, some technically fall into the romance category. As long as the story is well written and the characters are engaging and developed, I'm hooked. And Stephenie Meyer writes well, and her characters are so vividly imagined that it drew me in from page 1.

Once I tore threw that entire four book series in a matter of days, I decided to tackle her new novel, The Host. It's a very different book from the vampire series, but it shares a sensibility, in that the characters are people you want to root for, and the world she creates is so vividly imagined and told. I admire this quality - her imagination is a remarkable thing. It would be such a fun and satisfying thing, I think, to create an entire world in a novel, and then to create from thin air all the details of that world and its inhabitants. I started reading Meyer's work because I was kind of curious about what the fuss was all about. Suffice to say, I get it now. I don't say that in an effort to get people to read the books, because literature is so entirely subjective that there is never any guarantee that what appeals to me will appeal to other people, but when I find an author whose work I really enjoy, I am kind of compulsive in my need to share that with other people. Maybe it's the writer in me, that I understand the craving for people to read and enjoy what you're putting out there, but whatever it is, it's my instinct. And this lady is a good storyteller whose books I've thoroughly enjoyed.

Birthdays

This week, I'll turn 33. THIRTY THREE! Holy crap. Thirty three, like Larry Bird or Jason Varitek. Only an age, not a uniform number.

The week of my birthday always makes me kind of introspective. I guess that's probably pretty common. I think about my past birthdays and what is different this year. And I always think about the birthday ten years before, too. I don't know why, but looking at my life that way is kind of interesting to me.

The week of my 23rd birthday was a really fun, active, interesting week for me. Among the things I remember about that week - I went to a strip club for the first time, I spent my birthday at an outdoor bar for the first time (I was living in Atlanta), I made two friends - one who is still in my life and one who is not.

In particular, I remember that it was unseasonably warm, even for Atlanta, that January. It was up in the 60's and even low 70's several days, including my birthday. My friends and I went to the Dunwoody Tavern (which, unbenknownst to me then would become my second workplace...and the most fun workplace I've ever had) and sat on the patio for beers...and birthday shots. I thought that was about the coolest thing ever, because having grown up in Massachusetts, a scenario like that for my birthday was practically unimaginable. It was one of my favorite birthdays ever, even still...and I've had some SERIOUSLY good birthdays.

Last year, my birthday was the day before I returned to work from maternity leave. This was NOT one of my favorite birthdays. I was so terrified of leaving B, and so miserable at the thought of returning to my job. It all turned out all right, of course. I probably should've just relaxed.

This year, I'm hoping for a good year. Thirty two was great in a lot of ways, but it was a hard year. I was working through a lot of "stuff." And I feel now like I'm ready to apply some of what I learned this past year, so I hope I get to.

A Year

Yesterday marked one year since my first blog post here. It's been a fast year, and a long year, simultaneously. But having this blog as an outlet for my thoughts and my words has been really satisfying and therapeutic. So, to those of you who have offered support by reading and sharing your thoughts, too, thanks! Here's to year #2!

Remembrance

Today, my sister in law had to attend her brother's funeral. I mean, not alone; she is the youngest of five, and her whole family (and some of mine) were there, too, obviously. But it's my sister in law in particular I'm thinking of at the moment. I have three brothers, and they are three of the most amazing people I know. Perhaps I'm biased, but this is my blog, so I can make such assertions unquestioned if I like. And I do. Anyway, my point is, I just can't imagine the infinite sadness I would feel to lose one of my brothers. It would be so truly awful. (I...can't even get into the hypothetical of losing my sister, here. I honestly think I'd have a panic attack at the mere contemplation. So.) My brothers are sources of intellectual challenge, of humor, of support and of humility (they willingly knock me down a few pegs if I need it). Each of them fills a different place in my heart, and then there are places they share. I need all three of them to make me who I am. So, with that in mind, I send so much love and prayer to my sister in law and her family, who have lost one of their brothers. That is a sad thing.

And her brother was a wonderful, smart, intensely positive man. I only met him a few times, but you didn't need to spend long in his presence to ascertain what a genuinely sunny person he was. Terminally ill and in perpetual pain, I don't know that I ever saw him without a friendly smile on his face. He was one of those people who really puts life into perspective for everyone around him. You think to yourself, "Well, shit. If he's smiling, I'd better quit wallowing in my petty dramas and smile back!" What a gift. He will be missed and remembered, always.

It's True

So. Uhm. Something some of you may not know about me. My parents? Are...the Kringle's. No, I'm serious. They're the Kringles. Every year, they go to the Harvard Coop children's dept. one Saturday in December dressed in their Santa and Mrs. Claus gear and tell stories and listen to wishes and do all the things the Clauses do. But it's more than that. It's really so much more than that. It's the fact that their house around the holidays looks like a literal Christmas town. It's the fact that, when the five of us kids were growing up, they did whatever they could to make Chrismtas as magical as possible, regardless of how the family was doing financially.

The year I was in second grade, my dad was out of work. That was the year that Cabbage Patch Kids were SUPER hot. My parents sat me down and explained that only VERY lucky little girls were getting CPK's that year, because Santa's elves were working their very hardest, but they might not be able to make enough for ALL the little girls who wanted them. I came down the stairs that Christmas morning to my Cabbage Patch Kid, Nellie. And I knew I was the luckiest girl in the whole world. That one event cemented my belief in Santa for years to come.

Even now, watching my parents share their sense of Christmas magic with children they know and children they don't gives me a sense of the magic of the season, and the love and joy that come along with it, if you open yourself up to it. They passed this along to their children, too. We all obsess over shopping for each other, vying to give each other ever more personal and meaningful gifts. It's not about the materialism as much as it is about enjoying the joy on each other's faces when we open a truly well chosen gift.

When E and I got engaged, we pretty much immediately decided on a Christmas-themed wedding. After all, there is no party either of us enjoys more than a Christmas party, so we figured, what could be a better celebration than a giant Christmas party? And our wedding was the most magical, beautiful Christmas party we'd ever been to.

All this is why, even though I'm a 32 year old woman, I still react to Christmas like a little kid. I get hyperactive and distracted now, just like I did all those years ago. I don't want to be at work the week before Christmas; I want to be preparing and just hanging with my family. I still have trouble sleeping on Christmas Eve. And I wouldn't trade that for the world.

Bittersweet

B has been sick this week. This stinks. I hate when he's sick. For a while, he was wheezing and struggling to breathe almost like last summer, and it was scary and I just felt so bad for him. But the silver lining was that I got to stay home with him because he wasn't in shape for daycare. So, I had three days with him, snuggling, playing, hanging out, and not trying to balance work along with it. And that part was awesome. He's becoming such a cool and hilarious little person -not to mention the greatest snuggler this side of his father. So, even though I'm so glad he's feeling better, I'm so sad that our little soujourn has come to an end. He'll be in backup daycare in Boston, right across the street from me, so I'll be able to go and have lunch with him, so at least I get a little reprieve.