The Late Arrival

I get knocked down, but I get up again You're never gonna keep me down I get knocked down, but I get up again You're never gonna keep me down I get knocked down -- We get it Chumbawumba, we get it. Even as you read this, you're someplace on your way up again and prepping to get knocked down. Again. Good for you. But that ain't me. I'm trying to get up again and flinching at everything that might possibly could maybe, who knows, knock me down. Again. It's been a long November, a month in which I had planned posts on daily affirmations of thankfulness, perhaps a countdown to my daughter's birthday / my mothering day and maybe a post about the minutes I've been missing my parents since all the way back to 1987. But I got knocked down by a lot of things. The knowing that so many friends of mine were newly missing loved ones in the season of giving thanks that leads into the season of celebrating family and friends. It'...

The premise of The Grinch Who Stole Christmas is simple enough: furry, green man-beast has a heart that’s two sizes too small. The lack of room therein leaves no room for it/him to love Christmas. So much so that he hates the holiday and steals an entire town’s Christmas presents and decorations, lies about his identity to a toddler all in an effort to ruin an entire town’s Christmas celebration. Photo credit: emmytvlegends.com However, once he has a spirit of Christmas Aha Moment , he realizes the season isn't about all the packages, ribbons and bows. He repents and is forgiven of all aforesaid badness, and ends up loving Christmas and carving the Roast Beast himself in celebration. Photo credit: magazine.uc.edu I love that story. I think a lot of us do. Here's the thing: after honest soul searching, I think I love it because it affords me the high road, especially this year. This year has been The Year of Being an Adult with Adult Challenges. I can easily id...

The easy way. The path of least resistance. Admittedly, it's my route of preference. Conflict? Confrontation? Any sense of discomfort, and I'll go over the hills and through the woods and three times around grandmother's house to avoid it. Especially at this time of year, the easy thing is kvetching about the endless running, the needle on the scale that threatens to inch ever forward, the expectations put upon us by our kids, our significant others and ourselves. Not to mention the music. Which I did. Right here . In this post . But sometimes you have to dig and do the hard work. The antithesis of the easy way. I mean get dirt under your fingernails to find the joy -- even in the holiday music, since most of it beckons us to joy, happiness and peace. Peace in the midst of reality. For me, that reality is having terminal illness and death in some shape or form breathing down my back and lurking around every corner. Too many people in my circle will have one less ...

After Thanksgiving, a birthday party last week, another birthday party this week and Christmas coming up next week, I am officially overwhelmed. It'd take more time than I have to explain what yet needs to be done and if you're like me, you're probably overwhelmed and don't have the time nor inclination to read it all anyway. But even with an overflowing plate, I still love the Christmas season -- from setting up the Christmas tree that we got two weeks ago and decorated only yesterday, to lighting bayberry scented candles, to every Rankin & Bass Christmas Special, and the music. Oh, the music. Songs have a way of putting you in the Christmas spirit, warming your heart and next thing you know, you're hugging a stranger in the elevator. Okay, um...maybe that's just me. But alas, all songs are not created equal; and the following Christmas songs inspire and awaken anything but peace on earth and goodwill to men. 1. Christmas Shoes : This song makes my ...

We made it through the Christmas weekend, enjoyed family, unpeeled a few presents and ate.  And ate. And ate. Now it's back-to-work and back to some sense of schedule.  Truthfully, there's a part of me that hates to see it go.  I mean, it's kind of ironic that we get thrown back into the fray just as soon as we've unfrayed from the seasonal fray. But that's the way real life is...and I guess I'm just realizing that the seasonal fray of obligations, overpacked schedules and general racing around isn't real life after all. And I'll be okay with that...until about 364 days from now.

What's the ZIP Code for Crazytown? Because I moved here about a week before Thanksgiving and I still don't know what it is . Almost daily texts, email exchanges with and phone calls to my BFF have convinced me that Crazytown is population two.  She's unpacking boxes right next door to me.  From what I can tell, we're sitting on a prime piece of real estate. Between the two of us, in the past few months, we have: Loaded an offspring into the car and then gotten in to drive.  On the passenger side. When no other licensed driver was around. Wandered around in a parking lot in search of a car. For an hour. Put a dog on "time out" in the crate.  And then freaked out ten minutes later because the dog suddenly disappeared. Been en route to...to...to, uh...someplace and forgotten what the destination of intent was. Seriously considered wearing Pajama Jeans. One of the days, I'm sure we'll move away from Crazytown.  But at least we're her...

17 + x = 25 If I had only paid closer attention in Algebra, I'd know what "x" is; and I'd know how many days there are until Christmas. From what I can tell, it's close. Like breathing down my neck, whispering in my ear in an inappropriate way close. Given that, our frasier fir, once aromatic when replanted in our living room last week, and is now on the verge of collecting dust like my elliptical, was introduced to the ornaments only a mere hour ago. I like to think that I'm organized. Like, maybe I'm not organized about myself (e.g. packing a healthy lunch, eating a healthy dinner, regularly working out, hanging up my clothes...well, you get the idea); but at least I'm organized about family stuff . Birthdays stuff. Kid stuff. But not this year. To be honest, I'm not sure if it's peri-menopause, stress, work, trying to get this blog off the ground or a combination of all of the above, but all of the sudden, Christmas is staring me...

Because of December birthdays and our work schedules, we run around like headless chickens during the first weeks of December.  This means that we miss the warmer temps, and we're usually in the middle of the cold snap by the time our schedules allows us to go Christmas tree shopping.  Not a big deal, but it's usuallly so cold by that time that I just want to get out of the car, snag a tree, and get back in the car post-haste. It was no different a couple of years ago.  Jamie, Georgia and I piled in the car in the biting cold weather, and by the time the car heated up, we were at the Christmas tree lot.  We unpiled, and grabbed whatever trees were close for inspection; and this is how inspection goes: I see a tree.  Jamie holds and  spins it around so I can give it the once-over.  This all happens in between keeping an eye on our daughter and telling her to stay close and/or stop sticking her hands in the snow because her knit gloves will get wet...