I Still Believe

December came in lovely yesterday. I woke up to a beautiful sunrise and felt surprised by the lightness I had for the fresh new month. Miss A joyously got to the Advent Calendar first and found the treats. Later in the day, she also let me know that the #17 bag was empty. Most bags still are but I managed to snag two mini peppermint sticks from my mom's facility to put in #2. Can I let the surprise come to me each day? That might be threading the needle too much but I like the idea that something will appear. I still believe in divine timing, in synchronicity, in magic.

Millie whispers about Santa's true identity to me. She knows the elf isn't real either. Last night at dinner, she wondered out loud if the elf would be coming soon and where it might appear. It's like I'm beholden to some magic mafia, since we all are unclear if Maddie still believes and we don't want to ruin it for her.

I told my mom yesterday they don't believe in Santa anymore. She's been fixated on Christmas for months now and wants to host Santa at her house, like she did for so many years with the older cousins. She said, "I still believe" and I said I do too. It's way more fun to find some form of magic than to just be disappointed that magic doesn't exist the way you thought it did. 

It Starts With One

The thing is, you don't remember the dirty walls and the chipped paint when you're a kid. You remember the thing that brought you lightness so long ago. Sometimes you don't even know you're missing it until you pass it half-eyed on the way to your day.

After I put them to bed, I tack up the Advent calendar I was so proud of last year. I forgot to do it during the day in preparation for December. I feel like a flub as I hang the empty bags I have no intention of filling tonight, much past day one. I hope they don't notice the other bags are empty. I know they will and it will be fine if they do. 

This is why I reckon with December walking in. I profoundly feel my inability to field the holidays in a more pleasant and planned way. I also berate myself to get all the things done I don't need to do (D reminds me). As a mom, I've grown accustomed to focusing on the imperfections, like the blue tape marking a spot where it's not supposed to be anymore because last year, at this time, we were sure this year, at this time, our house would be remodeled. 

Even with my best intentions, this blog count down has been on my mind for months. I still couldn't pre-schedule posts. Perhaps there is something to not planning and to putting forth a rough version of what's floating in my mind as it hits. I keep telling myself the holidays are a strange business I can't take too seriously. The other day, I handled the tree setup sub-par. In my ensuing beratement, Millie reminded me it was just a bad mood. Suddenly I realized the magic right in front of me: these tiny moments where magic mingles and light is both a noun and a verb. This is what I'm searching for as I crave the days to grow longer.

Bag 22 still had it's "treat" in it from last year. I think they just forgot to open it that day or perhaps they thought it was empty. I couldn't resist peeking. There's the slight possibility they thought it was lame. I wonder if they will remember it again as a repeat this year?

Hazardous Waste

A list of the items I am trying to recycle from my mother’s house. 

  • One bag of poly blend sanded grout for grout joints 25 pounds - trash
    1 gallon of indoor outdoor carpet adhesive 663 Henry

  • 12 pounds of all-purpose joint compound sheet rock - trash

  • 1 gallon of concrete bonding adhesive quickrete 

  • 32 ounce jug of sander D Glosser easy liquid Klean strip

  • 32 fluid ounces of heavy duty oil stabilizer Lucas

  • 32 fluid ounces of zip strip paint thinner and mineral spirits

  • 26 ounces of builders adhesive wilhold

  • Three cans of 32 fluid ounces of Rust-oleum protective coats

  • Two cans of eight fluid ounces Rust-oleum cabinet glaze

  • 15 fluid ounces of oil treatment STP

  • 12 fluid ounces of Tarn-X tarnish remover

  • 4 10.1 fluid ounces of silicon Concrete and masonry silicon sealant

  • 6 10.1 fluid ounces of acrylic latex caulk

  • 3 5.5 fluid ounces of Quixil putt plus kitchen and bath caulk and tub and tile caulk

  • 1 2.8 fluid ounces of kitchen and bath silicon sealant

  • 3 Gallons of interior and exterior acrylic latex paint

  • 4 8 fluid ounces of Behr interior and exterior paint

  • 1 32 fluid ounces of restore Liam protective enamel oil based

  • 1 Interior flat latex paint 32 fluid ounces

  • 1 8 fluid ounces of restore Liam protective enamel oil based

  • 2 8 fluid ounces of rust oleum painters touch paint

  • 3 8 fluid ounces of polyurethane clear stain finish

  • 1 8 fluid ounces of shrinks free spackling

  • 1 4 fluid ounces of latex wood filler

  • 1 gallon of gasoline fuel for use in Coleman camp stove or heaters

  • 1 29 fluid ounces of self leveling polyurethane sealant

  • 1 64 fluid ounces of concentrated liquid starch

  • 1 32 oz Root killer

Spray cans

  • 1 16 ounce spray can of WD-40

  • 1 8 ounce can of Deepwoods off

  • 6 12 ounce cans of spray paint and enamel

  • 1 22 ounce Niagara professional finish heavy starch

  • 19 ounce of rain and stain guard with silicones

  • 16 fluid ounces of mop and glo

  • 8 fluid ounces of furniture cleaner

  • 16 fluid ounces of charcoal starter

  • 5 ounces of mink oil

  • 16 ounces of Johnson paste wax

Change is in the Air

The seasons come subtly but they push you into a new mode. You adjust your actions and your clothes. The air around you changes and familiar old smells come back to you.

There is nothing you can do about the evolution taking place. So you delight in the colors around you, in the temperature and the light. The weather anchors your way when you truly have no idea where you’re headed.

You hold hands with your loved ones, you cherish things unseen that make you feel whole. You are headed home.

Unseen

When I began to let go and just notice strange, random occurrences that seemed to be unparalleled and yet so very similar, I started to feel whole and to feel like part of something greater.

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Afloat

She didn’t know how to deal with the new reality she was stepping in to. There was so much energy a buzz around it and she found it hard to settle her mind and heart. She couldn’t even get a handle on her breathing.

She felt lost at sea, stuck in a tiny lifeboat requiring her to be present in each moment. There was nothing left to do but trust her story. She might not end up on the shore; sharks might come and tear her apart; or she could die from dehydration: too much salt, the sun burning her light skin red and blustery. The sea was never her home. Land, dirt, plants were her true place and so even more so she felt afloat in her surroundings.

She searched the horizon, always. She watched the long line laid out before her and felt drawn as if something magnetic was calling her home. Each day she woke looking for a bump in the flat distance, a difference in the space around her. She was hopeful something would show up in her purview and once again she could funnel her efforts towards a point.

Why was it that what laid before her, unreachable, always seemed to pose more promise the where she currently sat? The question comforted her and she finally relaxed a bit; settling in to the flimsy fluid place she sat. She bobbled in the not knowing where she would find land or if she would land at all.

She was hopeful and trusted somehow, once again, she would step forth on something solid. Even more enticing was the idea of sprouting wings and flying away all together. It would be a faster solution, if she could in fact find land before her wings failed her with exhaustion.

The silent flat water spread out in every direction and she felt stagnant, no oar to even take her attention. She was lost in her mind, which decided to no longer dance with her instincts. How could she pull the two together to mingle again?

She called herself forward in daily tasks that kept her alive. She fished in the water and watched for signs from animals. She felt restless, no room to escape. She was in it and liked to trust she would get out. Oh but what could she do to get out?