Flashback

Today I had two visual stimuli for a flashback to France. The first came as I was shredding receipts. We keep our receipts for 6 months, then shred them. The only reason this system works is because we only have 6 folders for the year—each folder shares a month. I needed the January folder to stash a receipt in so I had to shred the July receipts today. In that folder I found our boarding passes to get home from France. Then I went to Costco and there, right by checkout—like a Costco-style impulse purchase—were glass vases with tulips blooming in them. Real, beautiful, bright tulips. When we arrived in France in April, tulips were everywhere. The weather was unseasonably cool and my mood was a little dark, but everywhere I went there were these tulips that challenged my inner-gloom just by standing up straight and tall. I can’t say I have felt “homesick” for France since we got back, but just for a second, I did.

I’m not sure I can re-create for you the feeling of setting out each day armed with only a map (laminated and overlaid with the Metro stops); a gigantic stroller which also doubled as a restraining device; some hygiene essentials—diapers, wipes, hand sanitizer; a cell phone that only had one number programmed in it—Andy’s; a few apples, some cheese and a knife to cut and spread it with; a few euros to buy bread with; 3 children aged 4 and under and a total reliance on the kindness of strangers. I can see myself in my mind’s eye pushing that behemoth up the sloped streets of our neighborhood to our Metro stop, with a few walking tour cards stashed in my stroller pockets as a guide for the day and I feel empowered. That’s how I felt looking at those tulips: they had defied the cold and the wind, I had defied common sense and taken my family to live in Paris in an apartment the size of our living room. We had something in common. (Too bad I still didn’t buy the tulips—I am so cheap.)

Unfortunately, looking at our boarding passes didn’t provoke similar feelings of sentimental warmth. Nope. They reminded me of the stress of getting anywhere in France with a family. I remembered I have never preserved for posterity the account of getting home—mainly because I was too busy sleeping and throwing up for several weeks once we got here. So I’m inserting it here into our family narrative here. Well, actually, tomorrow.

Thoughts on Resolutions

I had a thought-provoking exchange with someone about New Year's resolutions, that prompted the following email.

" I wanted to clarify something: when we talked about resolutions for the New Year, I wasn't defending them, I was defending you--as in, I believe that you are totally capable of making and keeping a reasonable New Year's resolution, or at least making progress on one. I felt a lot like you one year. I wrote, instead of resolutions, a list of inevitables--things that were bound to happen. I think it was the year I was pregnant with Abigail, because I remember the list including, "Gain at least 10 pounds," and "Give birth." It might have included acknowledgment for some good things I was already doing, like, "Go to church each week," or "Continue to make dinner." Last year my resolution was to write, as Pres. Eyring counseled, each day a time I felt the Lord's hand/love in my life. I definitely did not even do this half of the time. But I did it sometimes, and because of it I have a great blog entry from Paris, my personal favorite, about how God led us to exactly the right place for our family. I also really did become more likely to acknowledge God's hand in my life and I am more likely to include it in my future journal entries. The point is, I became better as a result of the goal, even if I didn't attain perfection in it. I think that is a good measure of a resolution; will I become better in some way from attempting this, even if I don't achieve it fully?

Another suggestion, is just set a January resolution. I am much more successful at achieving short-term goals. Make it a one-week resolution, and choose a new one each week, that way you don't end up with a huge list that you forget about the entire year--as I so often did. My most successful resolution ever? Teeth-flossing. I've been doing it for several years now, and it was the only resolution I set that year, and I am confident it has benefited me. Simple, not glamorous, but practical, and achievable.

Anyway, I don't think there is any magic in setting a New Year's Resolution. None. Zip . Zilch. Isn't every day the anniversary of a year from last year on that date? I do think there is power in believing I can make and keep a commitment to myself and to God. So please don't sell yourself short by thinking you are incapable--you are far more capable than you know. I love this quote: "Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small doesn't serve the world. There's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We are born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us, it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others."

(Marianne Williamson)

Marbles

For Christmas, our kids got this Quadrilla Marble Run from their Jennings grandparents and Blake great-grandparents. I grew up playing with Marble Works and loved them, so when I saw these, I was really excited, because they were wood and supposedly each colored piece had a different function. I was not disappointed. The red blocks are a switch, so the marble alternated coming out of either side, and all the other colors have different functions. The best thing about this toy is that I really like to play with it, and so does Andy. I'm not the greatest at "playing" with my kids, unless you count reading books. I'm usually in the same room, but doing something else. So these bring us together for a lot of time. Yeah for family toys! Our other grandparent gift was equally wonderful: a year pass to the Arizona Museum for Youth. I hadn't renewed mine, so my mom did it for me. It is such a great place and so close. I love gifts that are good for all of our kids, will last a lot longer than Christmas morning, that bring us together as a family and that are really fascinating to play with/go to.

On Christmas Day in the Morning

"All the stockings you will find, hanging in a row. Mine will be the shortest one, you'll be sure to know."
Actually, mine ties with Andy for shortest--we both have Santa mittens. This year's contents? Gummy bears and a candy canes. Now the kids stockings were much better. This is the first year that our children woke up before us; every other year, Andy and I sit around trying to decide if we should wake them up yet. But this year, around 7:30, Abigail ran in to our room crying out, "Santa left la vache qui rit in my stocking." Have you seen "Laughing Cow" cheese in the grocery stores here? In France, it was a food staple for us. I don't buy it at all here, because it is the one thing that was actually cheaper in France than in the US. Abigail and Avery were thrilled, as was Warren with his astronaut ice cream. There were other funky, random objects inside, but I think these--and the lip gloss--were the biggest hits.

"I saw 3 [kids] come sailing in on Christmas day in the morning. And what was in those kids all 3?" Mainly sugar and chocolate. Especially for Avery, with her extreme love of "tandy." Truly, nutrition kind of falls by the wayside for a few days this time of year. Really--who can monitor what your 3 kids ate the last 4 nights when you've been eating at separate tables at family dinners? Or for breakfast, if you've been sleeping in later than them because you've been staying up way too late finishing gifts and then cleaning up the mess? Really, all those plates of cookies, fudge and cinnamon rolls from neighbors are very practical this time of year; they are just so accessible on the counter. I did make our usual Christmas breakfast this year--overnight syrupy french toast. Melted butter and brown sugar, layered with bread, saturated with french toast batter, topped off with walnuts and craisins. Apparently the kids didn't get that there was sugar in there--they didn't eat any of it. They did eat the gummy bears and candy canes in their stocking, though. So at least they were diversified in their choice of foods. Enough about our diet. On to the rest of Christmas morning. In true Avery fashion, she took her pajamas off, oblivious to the fact that we have concrete floors, which are freezing in the morning. Avery gave her dad Japanese Kit-Kats for Christmas, and it is hard to tell who is more pleased. Whilst in France, Andy discovered that outside of the US, Nestle has the rights to Kit-Kat candy bars, as opposed to Hershey's. Andy thinks they are so much better than the Hershey version. Well, World Market sells Japanese Kit-Kats, so Andy can still get his fix.

"Troll the ancient yuletide carols."
Abigail's big gift was her violin. Yes it is real. She loves it and demonstrates it for any willing--or unwilling--listener. Avery got a doll stroller, but I don't have any great pics of her with it.

"Outside the [rain] is falling and [sisters] are calling yoo-hoo. Come on it's lovely weather for a bike ride together with you."
Warren's big gift was his bike. We bought the bike at the police surplus because the price was next to nothing and we like the whole "reduce, re-use, recycle" idea. Plus, who wants to stress out about the first few chips in the paint? Why not get it with a few already in place? All we had to replace were the innertubes and tire lining. I went to Wal Mart on December 24th in the afternoon to buy some. I picked up a few other last minute items, but it wasn't until 10:15 pm that I realized I had left that bag at checkout. Oh yes--I felt every emotion you can imagine: guilt, fear, exhaustion, disbelief, denial, blame, failure...Anyway, my dad was able to round up two for us, one from Sam's bike and one from my Aunt Julie's and so Christmas was saved.
Warren loved his bike--as you can see from his face. It wasn't until later at my parents' home he said, "But my new bike isn't very new looking because I think they must have got it at a yard sale." I laughed. And the great thing is, he doesn't care; the statement was made simply, matter-of-factly, detached. He thinks the bike is great.

"Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue." That sums up the gifts I made for my sisters in sister-in-law (not pictured). For several years I have had in my sewing/crafting stash an old bag full of quilted squares and strips of coordinating blue material. Before that it sat in my mother's stash for a least a decade and a half. And before that, it was my Grandmother's, an unfinished project when she died. I was just 8 or so, but I still have many happy memories of my Grandma Dee. A Christmas one: she used to always send new pajamas for us to open on Christmas Eve. My mom and I do the same now with our children. Anyway, this year I kind of experienced a crafting/sewing renaissance, and had the idea to use the material to make aprons for the Lewis women in my life. I underestimated the time it would take, and waited too long to do them, but still, I'm glad I did. Each pocket is a quilt block from my grandma. The blue fabric on my mom's is the largest contiguous piece of material from the bag. The squares at the bottom of the cream ones are mainly made from those blue strips, along with my red bed sheets, old blue overalls and my blue gingham shirt. The cream material is from a set of couch pillows I made and then set aside when I made new ones. The waistband on Sarah's is also the material from my grandmother. All that pieced together with some new fabric.
We spent the day going round in circles from our house, to the Lewis', the the Jennings' and then repeating. It was so fun. We love living close to our family. We were all exhausted at the end of the day. I slept in this morning until 10:40--bless Andy. BTW, my favorite gift was from Andy, He had all the blog entries I wrote from France made into a beautiful book. I know it must have taken hours to format it all; I dreaded doing it myself. I love it. Thanks Andy.

Extra Love

On Friday as Warren played Tinker Toys on the rug--he does that every afternoon, I sat facing him on the couch. As he looked up to me for a moment, I signed, "I love you." He got a delighted smile on his face, then looked down at his hand and tried to form an "I love you" sign for me. He puzzled for a moment, attempting to hold the correct fingers down, then held his hand up like this with a big grin: "Mom, this is extra love. It's because I love you extra."