Dear friends,
This is going to be like
the letter I might have enclosed in my Christmas cards if I hadn’t given up Christmas-card
letters two years ago. I quit because I was juggling too many things in December.
It was a tough decision. I hate being a
quitter and it felt very much like quitting. Plus, I look forward to reflecting
on the year that has passed. And I really enjoy reading the letters that we receive in
the mail. So please don’t stop if you are a letter-writer!
 |
| We love Christmas; just not Christmas photos. |
Our lives are recorded in many different places now, maybe too many places – sporadic Facebook
posts and uploads, Instagram photos, infrequent blog entries (but none to speak
of lately). I’m supposed to be scrapbooking, which I truly enjoy, but I feel
totally defeated. I am still working on S’s baby book and he is 2.5. And I
keep taking more and more photos every month. It bothers me that there are holes
in their histories but something is better than nothing. No one can even promise
me that my children will even be interested in these books 20 years from now! We
take some iPhone videos and lots of video-camera movies (especially
sports-related ones!) that get made into incredible vignettes by my talented
Spielberg-esque husband. I treasure those home movies the most. Nothing, nothing, can beat hearing their voices
and seeing their mannerisms after they’ve long since outgrown those darling
little voices and mannerisms. Those movies make me cry.
This year has brought on lots of self-examination for me. In part, no doubt, because I turned 40 in November. I started this blog because I really miss writing and get lots of therapy out of the exercise. I ran a few 5Ks which I hadn’t done since 2008. I’ve tried eating crazy-healthy for 24 days. I
took trapeze classes, which were a wicked adrenaline rush! B joked
afterwards that he was afraid that I might run away and join a circus. And I swam
with sharks and rays which totally put me out of my comfort zone. (Large, water-dwelling
creatures have been prominently featured in my nightmares since childhood.) I also
decided to take on some “work” in 2013: some
freelance editorial assignments and watching some beautiful children—in
addition to my own—on Wednesdays (i.e., a baby boy born in January 2013 and a little
guy the same age as Baby S).
This has also been my year of practicing gratitude. I’ve
been sending God tiny “text” messages or micro-prayers. “Wow! Thanks for that
sunset.” “That hymn just gave me goose bumps.” “Baby S’s eyelashes are two-miles
long. How do you do it!?” It has made
a difference in my life. If I’m not paying attention, I’m prone to be a the-cup-is-half-empty type of gal. I blame my over-active imagination and my love
of drama and good story-telling (there is always a struggle and a
protagonist!). But this practice has helped me center, look for the silver
lining, and appreciate the gifts we’ve been given.
The best gifts for 2013? (and any year, in my book): Jesus, God’s
creation, my husband, my children, my extended family, and friends.
As a stay-at-home mom, I have less contact with the World of Adults
and loads of time in the suburbs with People 8 and Under. They challenge me,
infuriate me, motivate me, and gratify me. Someone asked what I do when I am
not with my kids and I chuckled, in a bittersweet sort of way, because that
doesn’t really exist. There is no time off. We are wedded to one another until they
fly from the nest at 18. It is my prayer that they will grow into confident, compassionate adults. They are my career right now; they are my free time. I (usually) have the freedom and luxury of planning our days. We can spend time
outside when the weather beckons. We can bake as long as we have the
ingredients. We can read books. We can linger. You have permission to whack me upside the head if I take this privilege for granted.
Something extraordinary happened this Christmas season.
Something clicked. My kids wanted to give
presents, not just get them. I don’t
know if this is a rite of passage that every child goes through but I am
pinching myself that it happened at our house. IMO and E both got enthused
about wrapping things—some bought, some crafted, and some things we already
owned—to give to others. I scarcely wanted to breathe for fear that they’d
change their minds! It was such a magical phenomenon to watch unfold as a parent
who has “forced” them into acts of kindness in the past, e.g., “kids, we are
working at the food pantry today, yay!” It wasn’t easy for this Type-A mama to
watch them waste two rolls of tape and yards of paper as they attempted to wrap
presents. But those lumps of crinkled paper and adhesive made me so darn happy.
And I am the proud owner of a paper bracelet from IMO that reads,“I am always with
you.”
IMO is eight.
Third grade. He is somewhere between a little boy and a young man all
rolled up in one chatty, energetic, lanky, blonde comedian. He is bright and
loves school. He doesn’t like bedtime. B has been 100% successful in creating
his exact replicate when it comes to a love of sports. They are two peas in a
pod. IMO even had his own fantasy-football team this year. IMO seems older than
his years in the way he cares for and loves his siblings. He is like a third
parent—nurturing them and cheering them on. He loves basketball, science, and
creative writing. My heart nearly burst with pride when he was recognized at
school for a poem he wrote. I cherish every minute that he allows me to hold
his hand or snuggle with him. I fear those days are numbered. “Thank you, God,
for giving us this firecracker of a boy who has tested me, made me a better
parent, and wows us every day with his enthusiasm, wit, and big heart.”
Miss E was born in
the midst of sadness and turmoil in our lives—I still believe God sent her to
comfort us and demonstrate His unconditional love. E talks about heaven and
how excited she is go there, which can be quite unnerving when these conversations
happen before she falls asleep. After I wipe away a tear, I feel the need to
keep watch on her floor. She can be sassy and pouty like most 5-year-old girls but
she is also exceedingly kind and empathetic. She spends her days thinking of
things to do to make others smile. She’d give you her last nickel (unless you
are Baby S and then she’d fight you tooth and nail!). E loves preschool and
cannot wait to get to elementary school. She sings most of her day and begs to
“bake something” every afternoon. She tap dances like an old soul. Crayons,
markers, stickers, paper; these are her best friends. (Her human BFF is her
same-age cousin, A.) She adores purses and luggage in all forms. E and
I have bonded as the females of the family, a relationship I treasure. She is a
tall, agile, blonde sweet-pea who is missing two teeth on the bottom. “God,
thank you for the gift of E, the sweet and quirky angel who brings so much
light and joy into our lives.”
Baby S is no longer
the baby—a fact that is hard to swallow. He is all boy. All 32 pounds of him.
He is fiercely independent and wants to do everything his siblings do. He
learns quickly with two real parents and two pseudo-parents showing him the
ropes. He is a charmer, for sure, but this one tests his mama the most right
now. He needs me but he fights me. He can sustain a tantrum for more than 30
minutes after I’ve said “no” to a juice box. It better be S’s idea or else
he’s not going along. He sleeps like a rock though and for
this, his daddy and I are so, so grateful. S is athletic and goofy.
His vocabulary exploded this year. He loves balls, books, Legos, and
sugary foods. He may punch you in the face if you try to buckle him in a car
seat but rest assured: he loves you. And he is usually the first to pipe up and say what he is “fankful for” at dinnertime. “Thank you, God, for the gift of Baby S who
completes this family, cracks us up, and helps us see the world through his adoring
eyes.”
B serves as the assistant director of the
pharmacy at KU Med. Over a decade now! He continues to do some consulting work
on the side and travels a bit for that venture. He will test for his black belt
in karate next summer, after 4.5 years of intense training. We are so proud of
his dedication! He loves sports, Walking
Dead episodes, and playing with his children. The kids circle him like
sharks when he gets home begging to play Legos or throw a football. They love their Daddy and so do I.
We’re
thankful for B’s job which has allowed us to take two beach trips this year:
once with the kids in March and once just he and I in November. Both trips were
magnificent. And we thank my wonderful parents for watching our trio so that we
could travel alone! What a gift. B and Miss E took a daddy-daughter trip to
visit B’s mom in Williamsburg, VA, in May. We also visited my
Grandma D in Missouri (who is 102), participated in an Althoefer family
reunion in the late summer, and went to the Omaha zoo in the fall.
It has been a wonderful year—just wished we could bottle up
some moments to re-open and enjoy at any time. Too bad we cannot DVR our lives so we could play them back on demand.
We hope that you had a safe and
peaceful Christmas. Here’s to a healthy start to the new year! I’ll leave you with a
favorite line from O Holy Night.
“Long lay the world in sin and error pining, till He appeared and the soul
felt its worth.
A
thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices, for yonder breaks a new and glorious
morn...”
With love,
Michelle
Something about Halloween brings out the 12-year-old boy in me.
I get all giddy and prank-y. A better, fancier word (appropriate for
40-year-olds) would be: macabre. Or maybe I never grew out of my short-lived goth
phase? Regardless, this poseable skeleton jumped into my cart at Costco and
came home with us Monday. He came in a 4-pack of poseable skeletons. Just
kidding. (And, yes, I realize it was only September 8. But what if Costco sold
out of poseable, life-size skeletons!!?) 
