Recapping Winter: 2008 Holiday Madness
Before moving on to general winter fun, I want to hijack this telling of G's adventures with my own thoughts on the 08 holiday season. It was too busy. Common really, I know. But as I edit this--in an equally busy July--I can't help but worry that G has and continues to lose something in the "busy." Pieces of mine and Paul's attention, if nothing else. I worry that those pieces are adding up. And that no amount of filling G's days with activity will make up for it.
The 2008 holiday season started that last week of November, with the annual Thanksgiving visit from Grandma and dinner at Uncle Bobby's and Aunt Tiena's. At the day-long dinner, the kids snowmobiled on what would be the base of our winter-long snow pack. We all went back to Uncle Bobby's the next day--for a leftovers lunch and more snowmobiling. G tooled around on his Kitty Kat for essentially the last time--clearly too big for it and ready to move on and up. It was a relaxing start.
The following week, I interviewed for and took on a second job. Then spent December and half of January trying to succeed in both and still be there to get G off the school bus. It is here that I started giving him, and his Dad, less of myself.
It started on a Thursday afternoon, with the interview and job offer, then a quick haircut appointment for the boys, followed by an evening meeting at the church--step one of becoming church members. Next, a Friday-night playdate that lasted til nearly midnight--so Mom and Dad could go to a work Christmas party. A late night followed immediately by a sub-zero degree Saturday spent downtown, awaiting Santa's arrival. And another evening G spent elsewhere, this time with Barb and Mark, while Mom and Dad enjoyed an adult dinner out with friends--a dinner we squeezed in before we got too busy with the holidays. Sunday morning, our church welcomed us as new members and wished G a Happy Birthday as we dashed for home and his scheduled birthday sledding party. After G's party, we hosted our daycare kids for pizza dinner and play.
And that was the first weekend in December.
With humor, Paul and I look back with words like "what were we thinking?" and "never again." (You'd need audio to truly appreciate the humor portion there.) In all honesty, we know that G enjoyed himself that particular weekend. And in all seriousness--in that moment of time--we think we know better than to put ourselves through those paces again.
G's downstate Christmas came four days later--with a long weekend based out of a friend's cottage. G and I traveled south Thursday, after work and school. Already downstate, Paul worked Wednesday and Thursday. My friend Laura joined G and I for a few hours Friday morning while Paul continued to work. Uncle Mel and Aunt Jana visited Friday night. As did cousins Sara and Michael--only they made it a sleepover. Saturday was spent between Grandma's house and cousin Jeremy's house. Saturday night we crossed the road to visit with G's fave downstate friends--J, J, T and C. In short, it was another hour-to-hour, non-stop fun kind of weekend, rendering us exhausted but content--happy and grateful for the time with family and friends.
As we locked the door behind us Sunday morning, G began to cry. "I wish I lived in this cottage," he cried. "Because then I could see T and J all the time." That broke my heart a little bit. In the same moment, I worried that we were burning him out but was sorry that I couldn't give him more.
A couple hours north on I-75 and G announced that he liked his own house best and went on to list all of his hometown friends. And there we were, living in the moment again. Neither racing ahead nor falling behind. Just right there, in the moment. And I remember every second of it. It was his first trip as navigator. He carefully matched identifiable names on our Mapquest directions to their correlating signs along the highway and asked the requisite zillions of questions about this town or that. We sang along together with the radio, laughing over how few recognizable Christmas carols we heard. Happy at last to hear "Here Comes Santa Claus". Then again. And again--each time by a different artist. He didn't sleep. We just talked and sang, talked some more and laughed tons.
Without a To Do List or carefully scheduled itinerary in sight.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Seven months later, we're feeling over-busy again. But...carving out our moments where we can--fishing, the commute to here or there, rest breaks along the trail, the shared minutes just before he drifts off to sleep.
Paul told me just yesterday, "G sang me your Mother's Day song again. Asked me if I wanted to hear it and sang the whole thing." He referenced a song G composed and sang for me Mother's Day two years ago. "Yup," I replied. And smiled, knowing Paul is collecting his moments as diligently as I. Busy, but mindful.
The 2008 holiday season started that last week of November, with the annual Thanksgiving visit from Grandma and dinner at Uncle Bobby's and Aunt Tiena's. At the day-long dinner, the kids snowmobiled on what would be the base of our winter-long snow pack. We all went back to Uncle Bobby's the next day--for a leftovers lunch and more snowmobiling. G tooled around on his Kitty Kat for essentially the last time--clearly too big for it and ready to move on and up. It was a relaxing start.
The following week, I interviewed for and took on a second job. Then spent December and half of January trying to succeed in both and still be there to get G off the school bus. It is here that I started giving him, and his Dad, less of myself.
It started on a Thursday afternoon, with the interview and job offer, then a quick haircut appointment for the boys, followed by an evening meeting at the church--step one of becoming church members. Next, a Friday-night playdate that lasted til nearly midnight--so Mom and Dad could go to a work Christmas party. A late night followed immediately by a sub-zero degree Saturday spent downtown, awaiting Santa's arrival. And another evening G spent elsewhere, this time with Barb and Mark, while Mom and Dad enjoyed an adult dinner out with friends--a dinner we squeezed in before we got too busy with the holidays. Sunday morning, our church welcomed us as new members and wished G a Happy Birthday as we dashed for home and his scheduled birthday sledding party. After G's party, we hosted our daycare kids for pizza dinner and play.
And that was the first weekend in December.
With humor, Paul and I look back with words like "what were we thinking?" and "never again." (You'd need audio to truly appreciate the humor portion there.) In all honesty, we know that G enjoyed himself that particular weekend. And in all seriousness--in that moment of time--we think we know better than to put ourselves through those paces again.
G's downstate Christmas came four days later--with a long weekend based out of a friend's cottage. G and I traveled south Thursday, after work and school. Already downstate, Paul worked Wednesday and Thursday. My friend Laura joined G and I for a few hours Friday morning while Paul continued to work. Uncle Mel and Aunt Jana visited Friday night. As did cousins Sara and Michael--only they made it a sleepover. Saturday was spent between Grandma's house and cousin Jeremy's house. Saturday night we crossed the road to visit with G's fave downstate friends--J, J, T and C. In short, it was another hour-to-hour, non-stop fun kind of weekend, rendering us exhausted but content--happy and grateful for the time with family and friends.
As we locked the door behind us Sunday morning, G began to cry. "I wish I lived in this cottage," he cried. "Because then I could see T and J all the time." That broke my heart a little bit. In the same moment, I worried that we were burning him out but was sorry that I couldn't give him more.
A couple hours north on I-75 and G announced that he liked his own house best and went on to list all of his hometown friends. And there we were, living in the moment again. Neither racing ahead nor falling behind. Just right there, in the moment. And I remember every second of it. It was his first trip as navigator. He carefully matched identifiable names on our Mapquest directions to their correlating signs along the highway and asked the requisite zillions of questions about this town or that. We sang along together with the radio, laughing over how few recognizable Christmas carols we heard. Happy at last to hear "Here Comes Santa Claus". Then again. And again--each time by a different artist. He didn't sleep. We just talked and sang, talked some more and laughed tons.
Without a To Do List or carefully scheduled itinerary in sight.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Seven months later, we're feeling over-busy again. But...carving out our moments where we can--fishing, the commute to here or there, rest breaks along the trail, the shared minutes just before he drifts off to sleep.
Paul told me just yesterday, "G sang me your Mother's Day song again. Asked me if I wanted to hear it and sang the whole thing." He referenced a song G composed and sang for me Mother's Day two years ago. "Yup," I replied. And smiled, knowing Paul is collecting his moments as diligently as I. Busy, but mindful.
posted by Jennifer B. | 7:16 PM
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