where the rubber meets the road in parenting

"Why do you ALWAYS do things for me!" I was taken aback, when my 9 year old son said this to me. He was making it very clear that I was overstepping and that he was capable of more... if I would allow him. These words, shouted out in frustration, have stayed with me. Somehow, without knowing it, I have become the Queen Mother of Overdo to two children who clearly still need me, but perhaps more than that they need me to let go.

A friend  told me recently that some of the best advice she's gotten as a mother is to allow her children to fail - that children learn from failure, and grow into full human beings because of it. I know she is right. I feel it in my bones. But, knowing it, and having the courage to gift your children with reasonable freedoms...that is where the rubber meets the road in parenting.

 I pride myself on being a good mother, yet perhaps I've overlooked one of the most important things of all...letting my children have their own life experiences without me.

I haven't been one for New Year's Resolutions, but this year I'm going to hold myself more accountable, shake things up. I've set my sights on that rock that sits uncomfortably high over the river. I won't spend a lot of time looking down, will take a deep breath, and with a leap of faith will jump. The water might be cold, but I'll either get used to it, or climb out, sit back with my face towards the sun, and know that I will be the better for it...and so will they.

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Painting/Image courtesy of: voraciousinklings.blogspot.com

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What a difference a year makes...

1st Day of School - September 2011

1st Day of School ...September 2012

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Clearing of the mind...

There is something incredibly uplifting about letting go of stuff, rearranging furniture, and creating something new within your own home. I don't know why that always surprises me, but it does. And then I wonder why I've waited so long to take on these projects. It's been a good week of small accomplishments. Sometimes that's all it takes for the world to look a little different.

The clearing of clutter often reflects the clearing that I need, to move forward, when I'm feeling stuck. The physical act of moving parts  loosens the barriers within my mind. I feel lighter and more able to step up to meet the next challenge. Taking the time for reflection is vital.

I wish to be more conscious and present in the world, especially with my husband and children. I am determined to make some changes now...before another year goes by. I believe it's going to be a good school year for my children, and a good year for all of us. I see it and it will be...

Now, I'm going to go pour myself a whiskey, put my legs up and watch my children play outside as one more summer night softly goes dark...

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Hot stuff

JCK is looking forward to the cooler weather ahead. Between the hot flashes within her, and these last August days, she is feeling a bit overcooked. In addition, the Motherscribe household is fraught with temperature accelerations of the human kind, and JCK is not interested in playing referee.

To break up the long evenings, they occasionally go out for yummy frozen treats. Recently, while the Motherscribe family was sitting outside, at a frozen yogurt establishment, a couple of fire trucks pulled up. One of the firemen came over and passed out Firefighter sticker badges to BOY & GIRL. On the way out, BOY couldn't resist a parting word...

BOY: Bye! Don't worry, I'll give you guys a break.

FIRE FIGHTERS: Oh, yeah??

BOY: I won't play with matches.

Everyone enjoys seeing handsome Firefighters laugh hysterically, don't they?

GIRL, meanwhile, has been contemplating important upcoming events - like...Halloween...


GIRL: I can't decide WHAT I am going to be for Halloween!

JCK: Oh, there's plenty of time.

GIRL: It's between an Angel and the Devil,

Pause....

GIRL: I think I'm going to be the Devil!

Yes! JCK is looking forward to fall. Although saying goodbye to Summer is always bittersweet...

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the end of summer

The last weeks of August are winding down.  There is a part of me ready for the shift into fall, and another clinging to these hazy, sweet summer days. Once again my children have grown into bigger people - limbs, strong and lean, browned by the sun.

My son's hair is a messy spill of golden hay, and freckles dance across my daughter's nose, and up her forehead like scattered stars.

 Our familial, daily scent of sunblock will give way to the lure of freshly sharpened pencils, and the promise of unmarked notebooks yet to be opened. The fall is both a fresh start and a letting go of the old layers that bind us, holding us back. It is an opportunity to move forward in new ways.

Ready or not...it is here...the end of summer...

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Just call me...Bob

JCK and her husband are continually trying new methods of communication with their children. JCK feels strongly that setting up a good foundation for sharing is important, as well as each person being able to set up their own boundaries for alone time - which JCK feels is sacred.

GIRL is all over this. She shares openly about her day, is very literal, and loves to go into her room, lock the door and write in her journal. BOY, on the other hand, believes in the grand embellishment! There is no simple story of what has occurred in his life. He isn't much for alone time, unless he is reading...and then, getting his attention to attend to chores or come to the dinner table is almost impossible.

JCK decided to try a different strategy yesterday...

JCK: BOY, can you come into the kitchen please? I'd like to talk to you about something?

Pause.....

JCK: BOY!!! Please come into the kitchen!!

PAUSE...

In which JCK goes into the living room and taps on BOY's shoulder.

BOY (slowly taking nose out of book): Yes, mom?

JCK: BOY, I would like your help with something. I am having trouble getting your attention. Do you have any ideas of how I could do that?

BOY: Sure. Just call me "Bob."

Apparently BOY has renamed himself...

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Ode to young parents

Over the last couple of years, JCK has started dropping off her children at birthday parties. They do well, and enjoy their experience independent of their parents. If asked, BOY has little comment on what has transpired - other than commenting on what delectable goodies were served. GIRL, on the other hand, loves to wax forth on every detail of the event.

 GIRL: Can I tell you about the party?!!! Well...They had a huge back yard and we started out with a water balloon scavenger hunt. Then we had a water balloon toss, and I threw it to ... and then...and ....we won! Then we...

JCK: That sounds like fun! Did many parents stay?

GIRL: Yes. I was the only one without my parents.

JCK: ....Did you want me to stay?

GIRL: No, I was fine!

JCK: Who was there?

GIRL: Abigail and Aster and ....

JCK: Oh, I'm sorry I missed Aster. I 'm not sure who she is. Maybe I know her parents?

GIRL:  She has a nice young mom and a young dad.

JCK: A nice young Mom?

GIRL: Well...you know...


Ay-yi-YI....JCK does know.

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in-between breaths, and doubts

 Hot feet finding solace on the cool tile floor. Chilled glasses of iced tea with mint. Stretching out on the bed in front of the air conditioner. Loose, flowing skirts that float over sun kissed skin. It is summer.  How quickly the weeks pass... mimicking the fast growing limbs of my children.

Days filled with work, camp, beach trips, and family improvement projects. The four of us clustered together on the couch watching the Summer Olympics - my 7 and 8 year old engaged in patriotic spirit. All sit in awe of the athletic prowess and magnificence moving across our television screen.

Those are the easy times. 

It is the raw, full, in-your-face moments of parenting that challenge me. My "inside voice" falls on deaf ears, and I wonder which time it will be when I  repeat myself, yet again...and again, FOR THE FINAL WARNING that will be the one leading to madness. There is too much screaming by everyone. All culpable. Some capable of better. Some still learning.

 Do the neighbors have ear plugs?  Or, should we open the front door and take a bow. This is what goes through my mind in-between breaths, and doubts.

I need a few solo moments in a hammock with a cool breeze...and the sound of my own heartbeat -before I am tumbled into the grass once again, by the raucous, undeniable blessings that are my children.

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We left on vacation almost a week ago. I was envisioning beach fun under the sun, turquoise waters, diving back into writing and long naps. Instead Tropical Storm Debbie landed and wrapped us up in her vise of wild winds, stormy seas and torrential rain. We are on the other side of it now, but without power.

The storm has passed . It looks like we won't have power for several more days. We've been shelling on the beach, cooking and eating dinner by candlelight, and swimming in an ocean of crashing waves . Today they let us over the bridge, and we journeyed over to the mainland to charge our phones and get internet service.

Vacationing at the beach, seeing, feeling and breathing in the ocean always realigns my mind and body.  It's been challenging for me to let go of my vacation vision, but being forced to really slow down, that piece has been all good...

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No one else can do it for her. It is hers. She owns it.

She has many selves within her. Some constant, some not. Her writer self has been in a dormant stage, cocooning away on quick snatches of reading escapades - fit into a world  so busy that she's not sure sometimes if she can keep moving forward. But, she does... These last weeks of wrapping up another school year for her children are a juggle fest of working full-time, multiple school events,  baseball play-offs, and volunteering. Life is full.

At first she raged inwardly at the injustice of not having enough time to write. Then she stewed and wept. Now?  She's feeling justified in her stalemate. She can't be forced out of her hole, having reached a certain comfort level of vague indifference. No... she will have to be both inveigler and resolute victor...finding the rhythms again. Embracing her saucy and her veracity. No one else can do it for her. It is hers. She owns it.

Her writer self is here, lying in wait. Just under the surface. Everyone has a calling. She, alone, has to realize that her calling has validity and value, because she can't live without it...

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Neglect of self is unbecoming in its blatant abandonment of the soul

When we allow the world to pass us by at a record clip, our lives lose color and flavor. Clarity does not come from the absence of color, but more from an abundance of varied shades. The nuances allow us to rise and dip...flowing into a rhythm with context. In opposition, Colorless is a world that loses shape and contour from a life of busy.

Whether the lipstick index holds validity in today's economy or not...  sometimes the gift of color brought to you in a small package is all it takes to boost your spirits. Spending $2 or $20 on that little tube of tint somehow makes the world a bit better. Do we look better? Maybe. But, it's bigger than that. More than the artifice of adding on. It's the idea of prioritizing "me."

Inevitably, in our everyday lives, we get caught up in the mundane - our self-defeating safety net in avoiding risk at all costs becoming addictive. But, like any addiction over time, it begins to chafe and burn until its unbearable weight becomes the very thorn in the flesh that forces us out of our dozing complacency and back into the world.

Neglect of self is unbecoming in its blatant abandonment of the soul. Far more than a lipstick lift, caring for oneself as if you matter raises the spirit in ways often beyond description. When our souls are livened, the inner fires burn hot and we exude a seductive vibrancy.

Life is full of color. A varietal of subtle hues and dazzling, messy stains. It isn't a distant destination at the end of the rainbow. It is in the right here and the right now. So, slap on those sunglasses, ease the seat back and release the break. You're in the driver's seat...


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Complacency is a state of mind that exists only in retrospective: it has to be shattered before being ascertained. 

Vladimir Nabokov

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We've come a long way, baby...

At the very, very...last minute, just when our schedules couldn't take one more activity...E.K. and I decided to sign up our children for baseball. BOY played T-ball a couple of years ago, which was somewhat of a disaster. Between lack of focus and interest, it was rather torturous for him and his parents... There was a lot of cloud watching and playing in the infield dirt.

But, this year seemed a good time to introduce GIRL to team sports, and for BOY to have another chance now -when he's more developmentally ready. They had a chance to play together on the same team, with friends, and with coaches - dads that they knew. It has been a walloping, whooping, baseball love fest - for all. BOY is playing catcher and enjoying it. GIRL, well...my GIRL is loving it! And, she is kicking ass! A couple of weeks ago she hit the ball so hard she dented the bat. Damn...GIRL!

When I was a child there were sports and then there were "Girl Sports." They were not the same. The expectations of girls' abilities and talents were often less than what was expected out of boys.Girls were not thought to have the stamina, drive or force to be engaged in athletic pursuits. The lines between the sexes were very clear.

Kids sports have changed a lot. There are 3 girls on the baseball team and their abilities and talents are equal, at this age, with their male teammates. The girls do not sit off to the side. They are not mocked by the boys on the team. They are all in it together.  It is a normal and beautiful thing.

I can't help but think how this will help them as future men and women - that at some point in their lives they played on the same team ...and they were equals. We've come a long way, baby...

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What is it about me that finds life such a struggle?

The rhythm of my days are stretched taut like an overwrought violin. I have bitten off more than I can chew this time. The moments of calm within the cacophony of "Must Do's" are scarce, but tantalizing. Sometimes I don't recognize myself cloaked in stress overdrive. When the world stops spinning -by snuffling my nose into my 7 year old daughter's round cheek of bliss, or, threading my fingers through my son's golden hair, I am reminded to breathe - and to be here, in the here and now. These two, these sweet children deserve better than my frazzled mom-who-is-trying-to-do-too-much can deliver.

What is it about me that finds life such a struggle?

This time will pass and my children will no longer be 7 and 8. Their limbs lengthening, their longing for mommy will move on to other longings. To have space and carved out time for themselves. The days of lullabies and good-night kisses, full body hugs and tickles...will be replaced by other, more evolving needs.

So, here I sit -not as a task of self-flagellation, for I can do that. But, to recognize that it is the here and now that is calling to me. Work is work. But, life is LIFE. In all it's splendid glory, screeching tantrums to inescapable snuggles. Secrets held until lights out and slipped into the darkness like little gems. Mommy, remember when.... Mommy, one more song.... Mama, can we play together tomorrow...

There are tomorrows and then there are...tomorrows. It is important to grab them, hold them tight, but with a looseness that bodes joy and delight for all...

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the blessing of a rainy day...

A couple of weeks ago, on a Saturday, it poured - the rain coming down in sheets. Baseball was canceled, and we had no afternoon events scheduled. BOY & GIRL played in their pajamas all day, building a fort in the living room out of couch cushions, blankets and pillows. Having recently acquired a stack of play money, they called it The Big Bucks Bank. Amazing how children figure out who has the money...

Later, I was coerced into dealing with The Big Bucks Bank and two very cute Tellers. The teller window was crafted out of an overturned laundry basket, with BOY within its plastic contours. My job was to approach the teller window and withdraw funds. As is the way with children, we did this over and over and over again... I slipped my flattened, paper airplane paycheck through the slot of the laundry basket teller window. BOY would then address the other teller, GIRL, who being the true banker, would count each amount out in 5's, 10's and 20's.

We played for a while, stopping for lunch, then each went to our own corners for an hour of quiet time. After E.K. was home and an early dinner, we all watched a movie together. It was the best day I've had in weeks.

I've thought about that day since - and find myself gabbing about it to anyone who will listen. As if I need witnesses to some kind of testimony of a very real, personal rapture..."I stopped moving and going and DOing." "I just stopped." I have the need to say it aloud.

We all need more of that-kind-of-day, when we aren't ruled by schedules and worn-out by obligations. It is those days that replenish us, that we remember and hold on to - that we reflect back on and breathe into. The trick is to declare "a day off" on our own - when it is not imposed upon us. To just STOP...because, we can. And, not be dependent on the blessing of a rainy day...

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Wordless Wednesday - Laura Ingalls & Tintin take on Dr. Seuss Day

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Romance is my mortal enemy

Discussion around the dinner table with young children always gives us an opportunity to look at things differently. Take BOY for example. We were discussing a new TV show that he gets to stay up and watch on Wednesday nights, if he's having a good week. It's called, LEGO Ninjago.

JCK: It really is pretty cute, E.K., you should check it out sometime.

E.K.: So, you said.

BOY- looking at his parents askance after the word "cute" was launched into the discussion of "his TV show."

BOY: It's a really great show...............except for the ROMANCE.

E.K.: Not too much into the romance, are you? That will change.

BOY: Dad! Mom! Don't you KNOW this?! Romance is my MORTAL ENEMY!

*************

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her own deshabille of horrific unkempt display

JCK would like to say here and now, in THIS moment, that going back to work full-time has kicked her ass. There is no "proverbial ass" here, people, - as in going back to work has kicked JCK's proverbial ass. No, the ass kicking is real and stands alone. Going. back. to. work. has. kicked. JCK's. ass. Having kids less than 10 months apart, a husband, school committees, work responsibilities, family work, and such and such has left JCK hyperventilating on the side of the road.

A friend asked her recently if it is getting any easier to manage the work/family/life balance. JCK was so ready to shout YES!!! But, that word refused to leave her lips and linger in the twilight air. NO, JCK said. Not yet... (JCK believes that the use of the word "yet" is hopeful.)

JCK is 6 months in, and she is still stretching and reaching for that..."OK, I think I've got this down now. We've got a pretty good rhythm here."

There have been some BUMPY patches in the family work responsibilities, and JCK and her husband have struggled. To be fair, JCK's husband was hit with a lot of CHANGE. JCK is grateful that E.K. is giving JCK that bit of sanity that she clings to, and they are in it together. Methinks, JCK should grasp that little golden nugget drop of honeysuckle, and mark it as PROGRESS.

However, there are things happening in the Motherscribe household and outside the home that JCK is ashamed to admit. Things that would never happen "normally." JCK is still struggling to find that "normal."

What kinds of things you may ask? JCK knows that you are wanting her to fess up. Let's take just one example.... On school mornings, JCK is so focused on getting her children dressed, fed and out the door, that some mornings she has been just throwing on her clothes, a hat and sunglasses and driving them to school, with little thought for her own deshabille of horrific unkempt display.

JCK wonders at the scariness! of this on multiple levels:

1. That she doesn't care enough
2. That if anyone recognizes her, she will have to suck it up or pretend she doesn't know them
3. Worse - that everyone DOES recognize her
   
4. If she gets in a horrible car accident and her pants have to be peeled off her body...oh the shame of full pastures...
   

And, that's not all! JCK's dreams wont even leave her alone. Her unconscious is having a field day! Amazingly neurotic dreams abound! :

1. JCK drives to the store and picks up laundry detergent - there's one! Except that later that day she really thinks she DID pick up laundry detergent...but it was only a dream.
   
   
2. And, she doesn't show up for her daughter's activity - forgetting about her daughter! So, JCK wakes up and can't get back to sleep for fear that she WILL do that. Even when her common sense is saying she will NOT.
   

Isn't this GROOVY to be in the messed-up mind of JCK?! She is so glad that she can make you feel better about your own life. heh.

JCK is now going to repair to another room, where she's going to try something new. Breathing...

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and I yearn for the elusive creamy center

I had a dream the other night that I was on stage again. Everything was fluid and lovely and there was a bow and applause and...a sense of self-satisfaction. As if balancing the yin with that yang, the dream continued and I went on stage the next night, stumbling with body and all lines of the script were gone to some distant land. A raucous success and a wild failure, somehow that seems apropos to life my husband said, when I shared the dream with him. Yes, it's true, but... wouldn't it be nice to have a creamy center once in a while?

When I was younger I was drawn to the drama - in men and friends. Life's moments were enhanced by complications. If something could be elevated or escalated, I would find it. I bemoaned the fact that I HAD SO MUCH DRAMA!! in my life to anyone who would listen. Smirk. What I couldn't live out on stage, was lived fully and at times dangerously close to the sharp edge of real life. Today, I see it sometimes in others, and I don't wish for that life anymore. Yet, my life seems full of highs and lows, and I yearn for the elusive creamy center.

So, I pull my children close to me. I tuck them in, rub sweet backs, and listen to their stories. Sometimes our life seems to swing up and ever down, but those little beats between the drama are my creamy center. I just need to remember that...

Participating with some amazing writers and the brainchild herself... Heather of the EO and her Just Write project.

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if we don't have someone to lean on - listen to, hug, and to love, we are empty vessels

We like to say that life's challenges are relative -what weighs in the worrisome column as opposed to the tragedy column is all how it relates to "you." I find myself questioning the Universe as I struggle to find balance in my life. While I am on that journey it seems that I'm surrounded by loved ones dealing with much larger struggles - breast cancer, a brain stent fail and multiple operations, a stroke, marriage struggles, and losing a home due to job loss. All of these are separate, yet the overwhelming feeling is the same. We all experience hardship of varying degrees and we need each other. If we don't have someone to lean on - listen to, hug, and to love, we are empty vessels.

The word "Perspective" has been coming into my consciousness over and over again. Like a new mantra. I've been sideswiped by my loved ones' challenges. No one's life goes unscathed, yet I feel at odds. It's not guilt per se, yet there is discomfort knowing that I have in this moment in time... a smoothness to my life - in comparison. Yet, my anxiety level is going into overkill. Why is that?

So, I try to focus on what really matters. Those small moments - a glimpse of a sunrise with my children, two of the best weeks my son has ever had in school, my daughter's need to hear my voice read her a story, the inescapable giggles of bouncing on the trampoline with my GIRL & BOY, and seeing my husband walk in the door. It is life and living and I need to acknowledge that I have the privilege of still breathing on this place we call earth...

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The familiar is heady

As I drove in tonight late...the street quiet, most houses with their lights out, I was listening to NPR -hearing someone speaking from Paris and Berlin. Places that have hijacked spots in my wanderlust soul. Yet, I was struck with how much comfort I derive from the same daily path. I drive up my quiet street, lights off, cars parked neatly in driveways. The familiar is heady, when the lure of different is just that... a glimpse into another life. I'd love it for an hour or a day or maybe a week. But, then I'd stare wistfully at my street of warm habit and know that here is where I belong...

I am not a child anymore. I control where I live and how I conduct my life. I hope that this life of understated perception and wild imaginings is a world in which my children will blossom. That small thing...which is truly large, is what I wish for this night...

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Forgive me, children...

There are those days in which you wish you had dreamt it. The gnashing of teeth and brooding brow. The roiling stomach and pounding head. Yet, the realization occurs to you that this emotion is a choice and a path you have wandered down...

Today was such a day. From work obligations and tasks to constant interruptions, so that even the most simple of goals was broken into many layers. I wish I had the insight earlier. To know that this will pass, it is a phase, and only a moment in time. The minutia of a much bigger life not at odds.

It was not my finest hour. To pull over onto a side street and step out of the car. Telling my children I needed 2 minutes in which to breathe and not lose my temper. But, I already had. Perhaps I saved us all from some screaming. But, the power of the wrathful mother falls heavily upon small people. How I remember... I hope they don't.

I got back in the car. Driving to an activity that was not mine. Again. On another day, meaning nothing. Today...meaning the bitterness of someone whose needs were not met.

Parenting can be so bloody hard. I am good at it most days. But, there are some I wish had never seen the light of day. And, I'm sure my children feel the same...

Our night ended with soft, whispered stories and cuddles on the couch. It is that which I am left with, the earlier debacle... wisps of black smoke. Sometimes the quiet and moment to moment with my children is all that is needed to turn it around. A breathing space and memories shared. Forgive me, children...

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launching a call for great time management ideas!

Every once in a while JCK gets a bee in her bonnet about her need for organizational tips - life management/time management - the key word here is management. Over the course of this blog's life, JCK has snagged some great tips on ways that YOU organize and manage your time. It's the start of a new year, and JCK is... launching a call for great time management ideas! Come one and all! Please drop by and leave your little gems.

These are the things that JCK would specifically like tips on, but feel free to add your own:

Family time
Time with spouse
Family Work
Working full-time
Meal Planning
Grocery Shopping
Time with friends (includes calls/emails/letters)
Time for self
Exercise
Writing time
Bill paying
Thank you notes
The daily mail...
Sleep...*sigh*

And...Those projects that never go away: boxes, and boxes, and boxes of photographs that need sorting, tossing and keeping.

JCK is going to start it by disclosing a tip that she just recently figured out. Many of you will be saying, OH....DUH, JCK. And, Seriously??!! But, JCK is proud of herself. Even if it took her several years to figure out. Are you ready for this?

Time management: getting kids breakfast/ready for school - without stress and everyone being crabby.

Tip: Get the kids up 30 minutes earlier. This simple thing has transformed the Motherscribe weekday mornings.

OK, your turn! JCK is awaiting your tips. So, pull up a chair, pour yourself a stiff one - or a caffeinated one, or just get in the ZONE... and let those brilliant time management tips fly out!

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Wordless Wednesday- Nutcracker Green Room

This photograph is completely out of focus, but there is something about it that draws me in. A quick moment in time of my daughter in her Peppermint costume -back stage in the Green Room...before The Little Nutcracker performance (December.)

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Friggin'

JCK is often moved by the conversations she has with her children. They fill her with hope and awe and perhaps...trepidation.

GIRL: Mommy, you know how YOU and Daddy say "Friggin'?"

JCK: ... I don't think your daddy says "Friggin'"

GIRL: Well, you know how YOU say, "Friggin'?" You should really work on not saying it, because that gives BOY the idea. Then he thinks it is OK to say "Friggin'."

JCK will take this under advisement.

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Life isn't meant to be lived in a ship with no one at the helm...

Oh, I'd love to get together...but. My life is so... crazy! When can we get together? Can you believe it's been... six months? I haven't talked to you in... years. I would love to, but...

JCK is determined to not be that person this year. JCK is setting out for FACE TIME. JCK is going to sit across from her friends and WOman handle them. JCK is not going to let the flow of life Sucker Punch her. JCK is steering the ship this year. She isn't locked up in the hold. No, JCK is the lady pirate with a gap toothed smile and enough teeth to pull off that "too busy" stopper of succor, and let it rip! Life isn't meant to be lived in a ship with no one at the helm...

JCK is going to expand the definition of FACE TIME. In JCK's definition this means...

• prioritizing relationships

• seeing friends in person
  

• pulling up a chair, picking up the phone and settling in for a long chat
  
  

JCK would also like to give a special shout-out to her blogger community. JCK is sure they have all but given up on her, but she asks them to bear with her. JCK is coming back, Sistahs! JCK knows that you saved her proverbial ass during those years of ankle biting children and no naps today and ye gads...the poop explosions. JCK knows who you are. And, JCK is grateful. JCK is raising her glass to you tonight and saying...thank you. Thank you for your friendship and reaching out across the darkness via the waves of Le Internet. JCK is humbled. JCK is...talking too much. But, JCK knows you will forgive her.

Face Time folks. It's what life is about. Texting and Facebook and Twitter are all titillating, but there ain't nothing real like Face Time. Resolution #2- FACE TIME with friends. More of it. Scheduled...

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But, first I'm going to savor 2011 a bit longer...

I'm not sure what it is this year, but I find myself holding on to the holidays. Usually I am ready for the ornaments to come down from the tree, and the Christmas tree to hit the road. Usually...but not this year. This year, I am wanting to sit under the tree...for just one more night, and soak in it's magical golden glow.

2012 sounds good and rounded and full - of the possibility of circling back to all that feels right within. I'm not sure how I know this, but I do. I guess I'm more of an even number gal, yet I always like to take the left aisle in a crowded theater. Safety in the circling back, yet a little adventure to keep me on my toes.

Tick Tock. Tick Tock. Oh, it's that inevitable...wrestling match with the passage of time. And, wanting to hold on to all that feels lovely...

Holding on to...the afternoon of making cookies with my children in the mad scramble before Christmas, and delivering fresh baked cookies on Christmas eve.

Joy riding the myth of Santa with two children who want it to be true.

Holding on to their words, oh...the words these small people utter...

GIRL: Mommy, what if we see Santa flying by tonight when we are out looking at the Christmas lights?! Wouldn't that be cool!?

Yes, my darling GIRL...it would. I think I hear the jingle of bells.

Holding on to...my daughter in another Little Nutcracker - this time putting on her own stage makeup, adorable in her Peppermint costume.

Holding on to...the vision of my BOY on a curiosity quest - everyday.


Holding on to...my daughter realizing she can read a chapter book. Pausing every few pages to ask about a word, she finished her first one in two days. Passing on the love of books is a gift. Seeing your children embrace it...now, that's a treasure.


2012...I'm readying myself for you. But, first I'm going to savor 2011 a bit longer...

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