Tonight I have the luxury of silence, and have the rare solo night to breathe and think without feeling like I have ADD. I have a few minutes to reflect and write a little because there is no one here to interrupt me...but by the end of this night, I will grow bored with my luxury and miss my whirlwind distraction makers and get all achy-in-the-heart waiting for them to come home to me.
There is so much I could write about, but I'll start with mindfulness where I sit. I am getting over bronchitis. I just ate a piece of chocolate I bought for a stocking that no one will miss because I just can't bring myself to leave my cozy spot on the couch in front of the fire and the glorious Christmas tree to go buy my own chocolate. Every year I love our tree more, because every year we add another memory or two. There are ornaments as old as 1998 on our tree-Sean and I celebrated our second Christmas together that year, but it was our first tree. That was 15 years ago, and 8 years before we had Gillian. There are ornaments made of paper, and puzzle pieces, or glass, and plastic, and resin, and clay. There are ornaments Sean's mom made when he was a baby more than 40 years ago, and ones the kids made this year. The girls and I decorated it together, and it was fantastic and magical. I am making up for lost time-for all the years when there wasn't much to Christmas. Sometimes mom and I would do a tree, and it was sacred love magic to me. I want our advent season to feel like that...loving the mystery and the family time and giving thanks.
One thing we didn't have when I was growing up is the Elf on the Shelf. This guy is sheer magic. The idea is that the elf pretends he is a doll during the day, and has an active night life-flying to the north pole every night to report on how a kid is doing leading up to Christmas. Our elf is a cheeky guy.
In all honesty, we are trying to teach the girls about advent and why we are celebrating. They seem to enjoy reflecting over our wreath, and discussing what our blessings are and giving thanks. Then they fight over the candle snuffer, which I understand is a multi-generational sibling thing. The advent calendar has a little scroll with activities or treats behind each little door. Our nativity scene is set up, too, but Addie can't seem to leave the animals alone or improvising with her own (I will add that she gets the adoration of baby Jesus just fine).
Gillian wants a sewing machine for Christmas, and Addie wants....guess?? No? MORE ANIMALS. She clearly doesn't have enough, y'all. I want a spa weekend where I can sleep and get massages all day. But, as my dad use to say-if you held wishes in one hand and a pigeon in the other...
Addie says she wants to be a priest. No, a Boy. And when I asked if she wanted to be an angel in the Christmas mass choir, she decided if she couldn't fly around the church, then she wanted to be baby Jesus. Because she aims high, all the time.
So, in this moment, I am enjoying some ungifted chocolate and bathing in our memories in an uncharacteristically quiet house. Life is good.
