On Christmas, we headed for home from my mother's house after a long, busy day.
The kids were spent and so were we.
Rav & I each have a kid to buckle in and as we do so, Gracie asks me if Santa is coming to our house tonight for more presents.
No, honey. Santa is not coming tonight. Christmas is all done until next year.
These attempts at explaining are futile.
And the look on he face punctuates that.
She is crestfallen.
Maybe even a little depressed.
I remember that feeling.
Though I didn't feel it until I was about 11.
I remember saying to my Dad that the day after Christmas is pretty depressing.
After talking with him about it, I processed it. Made my peace with it as best I could.
However, seeing this realization was over my three-year-old's face has hit me rather hard.
She is over it. She is not asking about it anymore. But seeing her like that broke my heart into a million pieces.
Today was Connor's first day back to school.
Today marks the start of the first full week back to work after the holiday madness.
Today is the start of my classes for the Spring semester.
And it's back to the way we were.
Back to racing around in the morning looking for a matching set of socks.
Back to making sure the kids have breakfast, while my hair is air drying, half-dressed, wild-eyed, and maniacal.
Back to cramming a waffle or 1/4 of a bowl of cereal into my mouth as I run out the door.
Back to racing around trying to make sure we all get to where we need to go. On time.
These mundane rituals signify that, compared to many, we have it good.
I'm trying to remember that as I am dialing up with a 24K connection because our DSL is down.
I'm trying to remember that as I am already obsessing about school work after downloading a 30 page syllabus and wondering how I will balance again. Balance it all.
All while I do this, people are suffering, many of whom are invisible and on the margins.
People are living lives and having babies and losing loved ones and fleeing from erupting volcanoes, losing their belongings in floods, working for nothing, living on nothing, and having babies in shelters in foreign countries.
I keep hearing about this crazy notion of change.
In fact, I'm quite sick of it.
I feel like it's going to turn into this hip, mod, in-thing to say.
Yeah, it will turn into this thing to
say.
About me
- Tabba
- A wife, a mother, a friend. A lover of music, beautiful things, simple things, weighty things, a thinker, a wanderer, a student, and a fiesty fireball. A woman who is all of those things and more. A woman who is trying to matter, and who is trying to leave little more than her footprints behind and a legacy of hope, goodness, and sass behind her in her wake and in the hearts of her two kids. This is just the beginning. Are you ready for the rest of the ride?
4 ripples in the pond:
Yes, that post of Jen's put my whole day into perspective, too. I hope that family is all right tonight.
oh babe. i know. it's saved my life, this work of mine because every day no matter what, i am grateful.
i am so glad you are posting again.
There is nothing wrong with a little perspective once in a while.
Lord knows, I've felt like all my worries were pretty trivial when compared to real hardship.
oh tabba. i have two bits of advice.
one is from someone who has had mornings whose stress levels you would not believe. the only answer is to get up a whole lot earlier. you might get less sleep but it will be worth it!
and socks: my son, my husband and i are now all the same size in socks. so we buy lots of black socks, all the same. that way you can never find 2 socks that aren't a pair. i guess you may have to adapt this one given the littlies have smaller feet...
lovely that you are back!
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