Last year I sent out a Christmas card that was
da bomb. I had so many people tell me that it was the BEST one they had ever received. I think it had something to do with my (at that time) 3yr old. He wasn't wearing a stitch but held a gingerbread house in a mommy sanctioned appropriate spot. Seems like something a Bad Mother would do. The thing is that kid was a
nud----is---t at the time. He wouldn't keep his clothes on for 2 seconds in the house. Most people just take their shoes off when they come in the door. Not he. And I was tired of dressing my kids in matching sweaters and making them smile with their arms around each other like they actually get along. They don't really. And they don't like cutesy sweaters and matching outfits. They just want to be themselves. And when I force Preppy-Unity it backlashes. So, instead I offered individuality. They smiled for that picture like the
cheshire cat high on weed.
I also find the letters that people send about how Great! and Positive! and Happy! the year has been a little like investigating a crime scene. Because we all know that fueling the gratitude and positivity is the behind the scenes stuff that screams "we made it another year - together, alive and out of jail".
Did sonny boy not flunk Algebra for the 10
th time?
Yay! Just gush about what a genius he is. Did daddy stop flirting with the secretary after hours? Easy, he's a hard worker and has become the epitome of a devoted family man. And momma found Twilight, blogging, and drinking wine before it's time? Put her down as an avid writer, reader and wine connoisseur who now delights in cooking.
It's not that I am a negative person, quite the opposite I think. I just want people to be REAL.
Here goes my Holiday card to all of you:
Dear friends,
This year started off cold. It was January on the first day of the new year and where we live that means cold. I wanted to move south but my husband said no, so I decided to spend his money to keep myself sane and happy.
While my son was having a hard time adjusting to the different medications we were trying for his anxiety, I wanted to run away. The darkness of the season mirrored the darkness of my mood. But I was holding it together. Which meant I was holding us together. Because if momma ain't happy .... say it together now... ain't no body happy. I know dat's right.
When spring decided to come in late April, the warmer weather, singing birds and flower's sweet scent, warmed, bloomed and pleasantly perfumed my mood. We had paid off enough bills to take out another big loan and replace my long-ago dream car that was falling apart. We began staying up later than 9pm again - which meant we could actually rekindle relationships that had drifted apart when we went into hibernation. Kevin started promising to do many home projects. He spent hours promising and planning, planning and promising. He had big dreams for a new roof & new deck. And, moving along ... we purchased new bikes for the kids so that they could expand their territory in the neighborhood. "Go ahead and ride around the block a few times". I was so proud of them. No GPS systems, or anything.
Summer. Much of the summer is spent trying to balance my life with the life of three kids at home and family visiting for an extended period of time. This year we enjoyed two weeks with family. Yeah, it was hard at first but we managed to get by on only two weeks together. We had to fit more things into two weeks because the year before we had five weeks. I am grateful for the two weeks. Really. Truly. Grateful. We love spending time at the beach and time at the lake. Summertime didn't give me enough craziness, so I decided to start this blog, Scandalicious Suburbia. For that I am really grateful, too. As are you. Oh, and I read Twilight (and the rest of the series) and I have to say just like when I read Jane Austen, my life has changed and will never be the same. Finally, but most importantly, I began a renewed and strengthened relationship with my MIL. That is true. I realized that if you continue to bend over, knowing what is coming when you do, you have no good reason to cry about it. That was a good lesson to learn. Stop bending over.
Fall is my favorite time of year. I love to see bright colors. I found peace again as my children started school. God is good. My nine year old is having a good year. My daughter is reverting to a five year old. My four year old is "really thriving" (to quote his teachers). Little do they know that is because we forgot about him. Because of the positive start to the year, I decided one job was just too few and took on two more. I have made new friends and managed to keep a few of the old. Somehow, despite being very insecure about friendships most of my life, I actually find myself full and satisfied with my current group of friends. What is amazing is that they seem to be satisfied BEING my friend. (Like, they actually call me to do stuff. Count on me. Need me.) While I don't advocate living off of the feeling of being needed, I do condone liking it. Appreciating it.
So, now we come back around to darkness. Just yesterday I learned, as we all did, that the USofA has been in a recession since December of 2007. I love how we didn't know that then, but now we do. Like they can just go and change the past like that. "Oh, BTW, when you thought things were okay in 2007, yeah, well they weren't. Sucks to be you ... then." So now that we are in an official recession many of us are fearful. Yet, I feel light. There is nothing like a cathartic letter of truth and a declaration that when you thought you were all right, you weren't, to make you see that everything is always all right. Things are not always perfect, glowing, syrupy concoctions of our imaginations. Reality is a bit harsher. But much funnier, too. And definitely worth living for. What is more intoxicating and fulfilling than an adventure? And what is life but the biggest adventure of all?
Rock Me Amadeus,
Katie
(Oh, and if you noticed, I don't speak for my entire family. If we were really trying to be truthful about our year we would let everyone write their own story, right?)
