No – not ala Britney Spears…but in my own way, I’ve done it again, even when I determined not to. Christmas is one week from today and somehow, I’ve gotten caught up in the insanity of the season yet another time. Every year I tell myself that THIS year I’ll really celebrate Advent the way God intended: as a season of preparation for the coming of the King. And once again, I’ve sort of missed the point.
We had decided at the end of the season last year that it would be our final December to have a Christmas tree (we’ve had our artificial tree for about 10 years and it’s on its last limb). Instead, Pete would build a crèche with a cross behind, on which we would place a crown. We would light an Advent candle and read from the lectionary every day, focusing on repentance and being ready. Not having grown up in these traditions, they feel fresh and new to me, not old and worn out.
But alas, cancer got in the way, and our resident carpenter was busy going for radiation everyday instead of being creative in the garage. So, I decided I couldn’t have NOTHING in the living room and I put up the limp-along-tree one more year, minus a few limbs here and there that have fallen off. (It still looks lovely.)
I still hoped to read and pray and ponder the mystery of the incarnation and be really ready. I have not done a very good job at all. I got the Christmas cards out early (minus the few that I realize I should have sent and didn’t), and thought I had the shopping done before T-minus-eleven (but nuts – I’m not done YET). Dinners and rehearsals and other craziness have filled the evenings and the days find me making more lists and trying to remember what I’ve forgotten.
This is not the way I wanted to reach the week before Christmas. Last year that blessed extra week in November somehow made all the difference (there were five Thursdays in the month – how often does THAT happen?!?). By the first Sunday of Advent I had all the cards out and the shopping done and it all felt so easy. Last year I left for work at 8:15, as opposed to the 7:00 departure time this year, which allowed some time for reflection at a time when I was actually awake.
This year everything feels different.
But all is not lost – because this year, I have something I haven’t had for years…a two week Christmas break. And if we get lucky, it might even be longer because there is a big snow warning out and tomorrow is looking pretty ominous. The kids are talking about wearing their pajamas backwards tonight and they’re all hoping against hope that tomorrow will be a snow day. Today just has that “air” of a last-day-before-break even though it’s only Thursday. If we wind up coming tomorrow after all, there will be a whole bunch of disappointed people (students and adults alike).
But even if we do, I am still looking forward to the holiday and some good long hours of reading and writing and getting ready. It’s way too easy to get caught up in the hysteria and miss the point altogether. I’m ready for some quiet and some thoughtfulness and some soul nurturing.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Friday, December 12, 2008
Some emergencies are bigger than others
When our kids were growing up and afternoon cartoons were still somewhat safe, they watched with some regularity a show called “Animaniacs”. As I recall, there was some character that would, from time to time, have a “potty emergency”, running wildly in search of a bathroom. We laugh, but not having a bathroom when one needs one is really not a laughing matter. Worse yet is having a bathroom but not being able to use it.
Which is where our story begins…
One of the many skills acquired in motherhood (along with multi-tasking and making a volcano with vinegar and baking soda) is bladder control, because with toddlers, who has time to go? Some days here at work I suddenly find myself in a certain amount of discomfort because I realize that too many hours have passed and all at once I am in the midst of a “potty emergency”. Fortunately for me, there is a bathroom right around the corner, and when this particular urge came upon me earlier this week, I was grateful to not have far to go. I knew one thing for sure – a trip to the bathroom was absolutely mandatory before leaving for home.
Knowing that relief was soon to be had I was starting to feel better already. And then it happened…my zipper FROZE – there was no moving it up or down, and on top of that, it was a side zipper, with no way to even really see what the problem was. Panic began to set in as the stubborn zipper ignored every effort on my part to get it to budge. I was screaming at it to move and it sassily retorted its intention to stay right where it was. We were at an impasse. I was desperate and that stupid zipper could have cared less.
Now if I lived across the street, I could have laughed at that zipper and run for home. But a thirty-minute drive ensued and I really wasn’t sure what to do. Thinking the dilemma through completely in five seconds, the answer came upon me. I had to make a run for it. Five minutes of zipper war had yielded no results. And with pretty weak wrists (tendonitis), there was no forcing the issue.
So I jumped in the car and began the endless drive home. Thirty minutes might as well be thirty hours when catastrophic bladder failure is imminent. My first move was to call Pete to make sure he was at home when I got there. It was time to call out the big guns because there was no getting out of these pants without him.
Next, I called Heather to give me something else to think about on the way home besides THAT IRRESISTABLE URGE TO GO. She kept reminding me that getting pulled over would only make the interminable trip even longer. I probably would have driven faster were it not for the slow moving vehicle I, OF COURSE, was trapped behind.
Pete promised to leave the garage open and meet me at the door. Sprinting in, peeling layers of winter outerwear, crying out in pain, I was more than ready for the strong hands of my mighty protector to save me from the evil zipper. He pulled, he pushed, and he announced that by golly, it really was stuck.
“How badly do you want to save these pants?” he calmly asked.
“JUST DO IT NOW!!!!” I calmly replied.
I was thankful for his tendonitis-free wrists as he ripped the zipper from the fabric and relief was mine at last.
Do you know that stupid zipper is STILL zipped?
I’ve made a decision. I’m done with zippers forever. From now on, it’s elastic waistbands, baby.
Which is where our story begins…
One of the many skills acquired in motherhood (along with multi-tasking and making a volcano with vinegar and baking soda) is bladder control, because with toddlers, who has time to go? Some days here at work I suddenly find myself in a certain amount of discomfort because I realize that too many hours have passed and all at once I am in the midst of a “potty emergency”. Fortunately for me, there is a bathroom right around the corner, and when this particular urge came upon me earlier this week, I was grateful to not have far to go. I knew one thing for sure – a trip to the bathroom was absolutely mandatory before leaving for home.
Knowing that relief was soon to be had I was starting to feel better already. And then it happened…my zipper FROZE – there was no moving it up or down, and on top of that, it was a side zipper, with no way to even really see what the problem was. Panic began to set in as the stubborn zipper ignored every effort on my part to get it to budge. I was screaming at it to move and it sassily retorted its intention to stay right where it was. We were at an impasse. I was desperate and that stupid zipper could have cared less.
Now if I lived across the street, I could have laughed at that zipper and run for home. But a thirty-minute drive ensued and I really wasn’t sure what to do. Thinking the dilemma through completely in five seconds, the answer came upon me. I had to make a run for it. Five minutes of zipper war had yielded no results. And with pretty weak wrists (tendonitis), there was no forcing the issue.
So I jumped in the car and began the endless drive home. Thirty minutes might as well be thirty hours when catastrophic bladder failure is imminent. My first move was to call Pete to make sure he was at home when I got there. It was time to call out the big guns because there was no getting out of these pants without him.
Next, I called Heather to give me something else to think about on the way home besides THAT IRRESISTABLE URGE TO GO. She kept reminding me that getting pulled over would only make the interminable trip even longer. I probably would have driven faster were it not for the slow moving vehicle I, OF COURSE, was trapped behind.
Pete promised to leave the garage open and meet me at the door. Sprinting in, peeling layers of winter outerwear, crying out in pain, I was more than ready for the strong hands of my mighty protector to save me from the evil zipper. He pulled, he pushed, and he announced that by golly, it really was stuck.
“How badly do you want to save these pants?” he calmly asked.
“JUST DO IT NOW!!!!” I calmly replied.
I was thankful for his tendonitis-free wrists as he ripped the zipper from the fabric and relief was mine at last.
Do you know that stupid zipper is STILL zipped?
I’ve made a decision. I’m done with zippers forever. From now on, it’s elastic waistbands, baby.
Sunday, December 7, 2008
Sydney, this one's for you
Our little Georgia peach, Sydney, is missing the Wisconsin snow. I posted this picture of her last winter in her GEORGIA snow, as we were having a not so white Christmas here in Wisconsin.
This year, we had a white THANKSGIVING, Sydney, and it looks like it may very well last all winter long. How about a picnic at Grandma's house?
Or maybe we should play in the backyard?
Baby, it's cold outside! And not one, but two more systems are scheduled to pass our way, each bringing only an inch or two more. But what's THIS news from the local weather desk:
...we’re keeping a close eye on Low pressure which looks to be developing during the day Monday around the Oklahoma panhandle. This is the type of storm which has the potential to produce a heavier, wet snow as it travels just to our Southeast. The exact track of this storm is critical in determining where the heaviest snow will fall, and we’re still too far away to pinpoint anything, other than to raise the flag and let people know to watch the latest forecast.
Oklahoma? Snow from Oklahoma?
Hey, Sydney, maybe Oklahoma will send YOU some snow in Georgia. too!
Love you!
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