I was going to title this post "Christmas in New England," but then I realized that wasn't very honest. Rather than live up to the gorgeous wreaths and candle-lit windows of our Hopkinton neighbors, we are barely surviving here: our home is about 5% of our furniture (our shipment from London doesn't come till mid-January now and we don't have that much stuff anyway), and our decor includes one sad Charlie Brown tree cut from our property's "scrap" pine saplings with eight dried fruit ornaments on it and a very disappointing string of popcorn and a sweet Little People creche.
And that's not all. The list of challenges I am juggling right now is long, among them managing two in diapers, a teething babe, pressing work deadlines, the seemingly endless to-dos on our new old house, the usual Christmas stress, and severe family health issues.
But it got me thinking (again): why is it when my life is ostensibly pretty difficult, do I blog about sunshine and roses? What motivates me to trudge my camera around, take well-lit pictures of my children, and allow the world to believe I have a (near) perfect life?
Perhaps I find and blog about the beautiful in my life - my cherubic children, the gorgeous New England surrounds, our antique home, and my thoughts on childcare and baby sleep secrets as a way to remind myself that life is beautiful and attempt to create a little more of it. Those things are truths in my life, too, and focusing on them and creating in my own little way is a means of self-care and therapy for me. I'm obviously not a real mommy blogger - a professional one, with sponsored posts and professional photographers taking pictures of me and my children in designer clothes - but I probably get some of the same satisfaction out of creating something out of nothing and (hopefully) making the world just a little better through its genesis.
* Gideon is infatuated with a little six-year-old in our neighborhood and congregation. He will run to find her in the halls at church, and then have absolutely nothing to say because he gets too shy. On a recent playdate, he wanted to see what she was up to in the bathroom, to which I replied with a stern "no." When she came out, he said, excitedly, "You did it!" and then, when the scene was repeated within half an hour, asked her if she got chocolate and swedish fish every morning (his potty-related treats).
* Esther's "words" include "hat," "hi," "da-da," "mmm" for mom, "all done," and, recently, something that sounds like "yeah."
* Esther is thinking about walking, and may have taken a few unconscious first steps. Mostly she can stand and stand and sit down and stand back up, doing squat reps with perfect balance.
* When G and E were both crying the other day, G suddenly said (from the book, Madelaine) "not a single eye was dry"
* G will approach fond objects (our car, his motorcycle) and say, "Hi, car, how are you today? I'm good, thanks!"
|Was actually hoping G gave me one of those fantastic crying pictures again this year, but no luck. And Esther loves hairy strangers.|
|Our town's very own antique rail car.|
|Our wonderful neighbor comes over twice a week to play while I work. Best $10 I spend every week!|
|from the "Creche and Carol" event I performed at last week. Gideon got in car and said, "Jesus was born." He got it!|