Monday, January 12, 2015

Happy New Year

As I'm making room in my life for more writing this year and--hold me accountable, Dear Readers--hoping to vlog a spoken word poem before the year's end, I decided to begin the year with a few writerly fireworks: sparkly, fun, and ephemeral. Yay!

So, I began 2015 by feeling very, very old. Harry Potter has become a household topic of conversation as Little A. and his dad finish up the first book. And the other day, S. referred to Harry himself as "born in the late 1900s."

I opened my mouth to correct her, then stopped, jaw swinging open a bit--as tends to happen with us ancient fossils from the last century. Harry Potter was, in fact, born in the late 1900s.

Luckily, I have hope for the future. It's strawberry season here in sunny Florida. We had strawberries for dessert the other night and happened to have a huge can of whipped cream, so we went crazy. I mean, with fruit for dessert, a little processed dairy is fine, right?

So Little A. got the can out of the fridge, but Big A. snagged it first. He said, grinning, "Pretend I'm Uncle Sam. I'm taking a whipped cream tax before you get some on your fruit." Little A. played along, but--once HIS portion of whipped cream was securely in his bowl--said, "Who's Uncle Scam?"

All in all, we spent a quiet holiday season, enjoying family time and a respite from the beautiful business of our lives. I counted my blessings again and again, especially the two biggest blessings, the amazing souls who joined our family on this wild journey.

Thanks to them, I have a bigger heart and a much quicker brain. Thanks to them, my husband and I have grown closer than we imagined possible. Thanks to them, I have deeper fears and higher hopes. Thanks to them, I think before I speak--at least, far, far more often than I used to. Thanks to them, I do those things that I always wanted to try. Thanks to them, I laugh so much.

Thanks to them, I look at everything differently.

Even apples.

Apple Fort by Little A.

Apple Fish by S.

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