Come to Jesus

Last night I ripped off the worn, ill fitting, loosely hanging bandaid called "Santa". Mads and I were alone and I asked her for a moment of truth and honesty: I asked her if she still believed in Santa. To which she academically replied, "Mom, there is no way one person can travel around the world in one night and give presents to every child."

I had a sneaking suspicion she was holding out for the gifts and she was the last kid standing in our house. I called her in for a hug because it was music to my ears. I know I sound like a Grinch but to be honest, I am just glad we are all out in the open about this now. I can happily load stockings and put things under the tree in a timely manner. I don't have to worry about hiding gifts that, if found, have to be wrapped and replaced with other gifts. 

It sounds crazy, right? It is. This is what we do to ourselves during the holidays in the plight to make our kids feel good; to make ourselves feel good. Though I love the magic of Christmas, it is a tiring commitment. 

This morning when Mads and I got up, I moved the elf in front of her, removing any lingering questions. It felt strange and low but also liberating. This is clearly a new phase we have entered and I couldn't be more excited. I still will happily share the magic of other kids but for my family, now maybe the beach at Christmas will seem much more appropriate.

Tread Carefully

We are all so tattered and worn these days. Feeling upside down and confused, wondering who we can trust and what we can do to change the trajectory we seem to be on. Woman to woman, we can take a moment to heal these tattered hearts. 

Our world is beautiful and frightening all at once. The light snow covers the slick ice. We must tread carefully and we must still get outside and breathe the fresh air. The days to come might ask a lot of us, I fear. But who you choose to be in this moment is who you chose to be when you came here.

Current mood

Miss A drew this the other day at school and I love it. It’s also pretty accurate for how I’m feeling this weekend. I’ve had low energy the past two days, which could be a hangover. The blog advent calendar has fallen to the wayside along with my early morning writing. The advent calendar at home has had a few empty bags in it and I’m not sure if it’s because kids took the candy out or I forgot to fill it. So a cup that’s either half empty or half full and not quite happy and not quite sad seems pretty suiting at the moment. 

I still believe...

that something good will happen today.

people want to be intrinsically good. 

in the dreams I had as a child. 

I can think myself in and out of any scenario. 

intuition has a root system we don’t understand. 

my imperfections are worse than others' faults. 

unseen activity is happening all around and connecting us. 

something else will make me happy rather than what is right here right now. 

my bad days get more attention than my good days. 

deep down I am meant to be a writer. 

I am lucky. 

I have so much to learn. 

in my ability to achieve what I put my mind to. 

the stories I told myself as a child. 

as humans we don’t tap knowledge that isn’t physically tangible. 

feelings I have carried for many years (I’ve carved into my brain and can’t escape grooves). 

this life is a game, an adventure, a chance to explore. 

someone or something will discover me. 

change is co-created. 

we are animals in the system. 

moments have synchronicity.

in trying to figure out why. 

that time can wash away the emotion around would happen. 

in myself. 

I am young and can do anything I set my mind to. 

perspective is everything. 

spirits are watching out for me. 

in choosing love more than fear. 

in circular movements and closing the loop.

I have so much left to give.

Giving for Good

Today happens to be Colorado Gives Day! As an associate board member with the Denver Scholarship Foundation, I've volunteered my time the past year and a half to support the postsecondary goals of Denver Public School students. This year, I am committed being an active fundraiser, a task I have abhorred since trying to sell cheese and sausage during my elementary school years.

The holidays are really much more about community; giving can be for benefit rather than consumption. I believe firmly in every person having access to education and removing as many barriers as possible to achieve success. The students who access the Denver Scholarship Foundation services have much more gumption than me.  

The truth is, I probably wouldn't have made it without the financial support of my father to get me through college. I consider this a weakness. I am immensely grateful for his support; it is one of the best gifts I ever received. I believe my college experience changed me for the better. I didn't know it when I entered university but I needed that time to marinate and grow in to myself. My dad told me years later, it was all about committing to getting the degree and making it through. I still miss him often.

Find a cause you're passionate about and "give where you live" or join me to help support the postsecondary school goals of the next generation by donating to the Denver Scholarship Foundation. Even a $5 donation can make a big impact.

P.S. Who's the curmudgeon in the background left copying my dad's outfit and photobombing before it was a thing?!

Under the Mistletoe

I remember being 8 and standing precariously under the mistletoe in our house. I loved it, I longed for the moment when I was older and with my true love under the mistletoe. It was pure magic in the moment. I see this same delightful shyness with miss A. She has dallied under the mistletoe in our hallway enough that I put another sprig up in the kitchen so I could more readily catch her in the moment and give her a smooch. I mailed her this card (I've been holding it for a few years now - she loves pigs). The mail woman delivered it today and I left it sitting prominent in our mail basket. I stealthly watched her discover her own addressed envelope. There was no return address, which peaked her curiosity, and she went to her room to open it alone. Later she had to ask me how I mailed it to her? Therein lies the lightness: sometimes not knowing the logistics makes the mundane seem magical.