Monday, November 30, 2009
It's cold and rainy today which doesn't seem to sooth the dull aches and sadness that seem to accompany returning back into the routine and off of vacation.
Sometimes days just don't quite go as you expect.
I lost my 3 year old today....
I was out scrambling to find a gift for my niece. Yes, I was stressed, my mind was full of things I needed to get done and on top of it all I found myself and my 3 boys driving off to the craft store.
"Why didn't I do this sooner?" "Why do I always wait until the last minute to do these things?"
After spending way too long going from aisle to aisle, staring at every possible option while trying to sooth my 1 year old and keep my other two boys from playing cars with the ink pads, I finally made a decision...well almost. Just one more thing to check, then I turn around and Peter is gone. Warren (the one who is supposed to be the most responsible but still too young to even grasp why) has no idea where he is. I fight back the panic that is slowly welling up inside. "Everything's going to be fine." "I'm sure he's right here.."
no answer. I'm starting to get slightly more frantic but trying to suppress my desire to ditch my other two kids and run around screaming Peter's name. I look at the sympathetic women at the register who begin looking around as well... still nothing.
"Peter!" (getting much more nervous now)...
No answer...finally not knowing what to do I just stood there for a moment and in he walks. His eyes red from crying. I hug him and all the stress I was feeling just seems to fade. A few moments later I discover that he had followed another woman out of the store thinking it was me or that I was out there somewhere and then didn't know what to do.
Some days are definitely harder than others...
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
I do realize that as I write this probably 100s of others are thinking and doing the same thing but I can't escape thinking a bit more on this during this time of year.
that 8 years ago during a Thanksgiving celebration I met Ben who would eventually become my husband (although at the time I was oblivious to that fact)
for those moments when I find myself sitting back and watching...
watching Ben and the boys laugh and play together, watching Warren read to his little brother, watching little Chris look out the window, fascinated by the world around him
for those times when Ben and I escape, get off by ourselves to enjoy a cup of coffee, an evening out, a weekend away
for music, the kind that makes me dance around the kitchen with the kids while I'm making supper, the songs that draw me into a pensive, somewhat morose mood; the songs that make me think more deeply about life; and the ones that I know are shallow but so very fun
for family, who make me feel like I can be at home, do anything and they will still love me but aren't afraid to chip away at the parts of me that stick out
the games, the constant snacking, sitting in front of the fireplace or on the front porch
Friday, November 20, 2009
I've added these Red and Green Washcloths to my shop just in time for Christmas.
Combine these with my Frankincense and Myrrh or Orange Cocoa Butter Soap and you will have the perfect gift for your co-worker or stocking stuffer for your favorite family member.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
As I write this my oldest son is downstairs drinking English Teatime tea, eating pumpkin bread and making Christmas cards. I just polished off my pumpkin bread and switched my pandora station to Christmas music. I have broken down and broken my, as of yet, life-long rule that I will not play Christmas music until after Thanksgiving. I couldn't help it. It's getting cold and gloomy outside, it's warm and cozy inside and there's something about Christmas music that instantly seems to bring warmth and comfort.
It probably didn't help that this morning as we were traipsing through our local major department store they kept playing Deck the Halls and advertising so many of the things you "can't live without" this holiday season. Warren and I spent most of the time singing our conversation to the tune of Deck the Halls. I'm pretty sure me and my boys (and my husband) all belong in a musical since that is usually how we spend most of our time. We often break out into song and sing whatever is happening at the time. At one point when Warren was a bit younger I heard him singing about his little people to the tune of The Doxology. So there we were today the cereal aisle discussing what cereal we would be bringing home to "Deck the Halls".
I'm striving hard not to get overwhelmed with what seems to be crammed into such a small amount of time. It seems that no matter how hard we try it's like jumping onto an out of control train and holding on for dear life. I'm already dreading the family picture that accompanies a brief summary of our lives and accomplishments this past year. Ever since we had kids the family picture went from a blissful couple getting a quick shot to countless photo shoots only to scrap them all and start over. Yes, I can see why people transition to just taking pictures of their kids for the Christmas card (that's intense enough) but we still insist on getting us all in the picture. I just want to make sure that people know that these kids aren't raising themselves. When we say "Greetings from the Trice family" that the Trice family is actually in the picture. In order to accomplish this we might come close to killing each other, but so far we have managed to produce something acceptable and I'm sure this year will prove to be the same.
So I'm jumping on and getting ready to hold on for dear life. Hooray for Christmas music, egg nog, hot chocolate and snow.
(Note: the picture at the top is from last year...we have not gone quite gone that far and will wait to get our tree until after Thanksgiving)
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
It's dismal, dark and rainy outside. As I woke up this morning the house was silent, the boys still tucked snugly under their covers enjoying the darkness of their rooms. It is a rare thing to have the house quiet and the boys still in bed and I drink in the moment. Visions flash through my head of the soon to come tractor racing through the kitchen under my feet, the sounds of laughter which are inevitably followed by immediate sorrow from a seemingly irreparable wound or sibling struggle; but for now all is quiet....