Day Twenty Six: Post Christmas Recovery

I literally did nothing today. No, I'm not exaggerating. I did nothing. No shower. I didn't change out of my pajamas (for like the third time over the last week). I haven't brushed my teeth yet. (I will before bed. Don't be too grossed out.) It was just one of those days.

I got up late because I was up late. Then at 2 a.m. my younger son came into my bedroom, which he does quite often so I wasn't surprised, and climbed into my bed - causing my husband to vacate our bed - and before my husband was out the bedroom door my two year old was throwing up. So after stripping the bed, scrubbing the mattress, opening the window and closing the door to keep the odor from spreading, I joined my two year old (after he had had a 2 a.m. bath) in his bed while my husband took the couch.

The good news is that it was just the one incident of sickness. He was fine today and was eating regular food by dinner. I, however, was exhausted and so I slept in. Then I spent the rest of the day cleaning up from Christmas, my husband cut what appeared to be at least one ton of cardboard and then we vegged out the rest of the day.

Oh, I have had probably no less than a pound of chocolate today. I can't stop eating it. It's sitting right in the middle of my kitchen which is in the middle of my apartment and I can't help myself from grabbing a piece every time I walk by (and then there are the times when I go into the kitchen just for the sole purpose of grabbing a piece). Rewind two months and it's Halloween all over again for me. No self control. Aerobics classes can't start back up soon enough.

I think the Christmas tree is coming down tomorrow. So are the decorations. Time to start getting back to "normal" around here. Although now that the holidays are coming to a close it's go time for our dreams of owning our own home. Time to start packing - which I am dreading. I'm looking forward to ridding out some of the crap we've collected over the past five years, but completely dreading the actual act of packing up and moving. But all of that is being outweighed by my late night sessions of planning what furniture is going where in the new house and what things I want to buy and what colors I might use to paint this room and that room - I can't believe our dream of owning a home is a little over a month away.

It certainly was a very Merry Christmas and I'm looking forward to a very Happy New Year!

11:58 p.m. - P.S. OK. I just checked my email and I had one message waiting. It's a parenting bulletin that I get weekly. I signed up for when I was pregnant with my first child and they update you every week during your pregnancy and then they give you developmental milestones, suggestions for games and activities you can do, etc. after the birth. These days I just skim through it (I've gotten a couple of great recall announcements through it) and usually delete it within five minutes. I stopped reading the whole milestones and "what your child should be doing," stuff once I had a second child, but have just never unsubscribed from the mailing list.

Anyway, guess what the very first topic of information is this week? "How to Raise a Spiritual Child." Uh, what? Could it be that I'm more widely read than I though I was? Are the folks over at Babycenter reading my blog? CRAZY! Or more likely I think it's the universe - it's wonderful how she does that. You put the question out there and she sends you answers; and I stress answers, plural, because the greatest thing is that she doesn't force anything - she provides possibilities, options, ideas. It's still up to me to choose.

But I think I'll actually read this article. (Not tonight. I'm too tired.) Just to see what it has to say. I mean, how can I not give it a chance with a subtitle like: "Whether you belong to an organized religion or follow your own spiritual path, get ideas on how to nurture your 2- to 4-year old's or 5-to-8-year old's sense of spiritual wonder" or "How to keep your child's materialism in check."

Even on days when nothing happens - I can be absolutely amazed.

Day Twenty Five: Merry Christmas

This is a picture of the clock my husband bought me.

It's to be placed on the mantle of our soon-to-be new home . . .

And he was worried about getting me the right present :)

Christmas was a success . . .

Santa made his planned appearance. Children were out of their minds with excitement. Much wrapping paper was torn and much fun was had by all. So much fun, in fact, my three handsome men were all tucked into bed by 9:00 p.m. And I am left here, alone, quietly contemplating a truly wonderful day. Yes, I L-O-V-E Christmas and I'm already looking forward to next year.

All of these holiday happenings had me thinking about my upbringing and, read religious upbringing, and my "issues" regarding religion and the confusion I feel about how to raise my own children. See, my family doesn't have a lot of traditions. What we did have we lost when we moved away from the rest of our family some 20 years ago. Then my parents were divorced about a decade after moving their family of five to the Northeast and my sister moved to Florida and what we were left with was a very splintered version of what we once had.

No more big dinners at my aunt's house; no more cousins to raise hell with; no more baking Christmas cookies with my aunt (although all I ever really did was eat the raw cookie dough); no more Christmas Eve church services.

Over the last five years, as I have now started a family of my own, I have tried to bring back some of the traditions I loved as a child not only for my sons, but for myself. I invite my mother and my sister (and her soon-to-be groom) to my house on Christmas morning to open gifts; I always make sure that my sister (and again her groom) have a stocking filled with all kinds of treats to take home with them; I listen to the Chipmunks when I put up my tree; I make sure that the brass angel my grandfather gave to me when I was very young is hung prominently at the top of the tree every year and I've given my children brass ornaments of their own to hang on the tree . . . But no Christmas Eve church services.

Although I am not tempted to go, when it's quiet and I've done all of my "Santa" duties, and everyone is tucked into bed and the only sound I hear is no sound at all - I do think about it. I remember the bigger than life stained glass window surrounded by grey cement bricks that I used to stare at during the Christmas sermon or during the Christmas hymns we sang at the end while we waited to hear the church bells ring at midnight. I used to get lost in that window. It portrayed Jesus in the arms of Mary surrounded by what I believe we the Disciples - brilliant and vivid greens and reds, blues and oranges . . . Even at night it looked as if it was being lit by the sun on the other side. That window always made me think about my life and my family and the world . . .

These days I have a problem with organized religion. I feel like it's a club. I feel like trying to make people fit a particular mold, making them feel like "bad" people who need to be saved from themselves and arrogantly assuming that your "way" is the right way - it just doesn't go with who I believe God to be. I mean, if he's supposed to love us all unconditionally, what's with all the fuss? What's with all the rules about loving him in return?

So that's my dilemma. I was raised in a Christian household and I believe that it's that upbringing that has contributed to my current belief system. I want my children to be independent thinkers; I want them to be loving and accepting of others even those that are different from them; I also want them to have something to believe in and I'm not sure I know how to give them that since I reel against anything having to do with institutionalized religion.

So that's why I'm doing some reading. I'm back on a Transcendentalism kick, so I think I'm going to explore the spiritual side of it for a change instead of just turning away from any mention of God. While I strongly believe that I can have a relationship with God without entering the doors of a church, I need to be strong enough in that conviction to allow myself to listen to and expose myself to others who also believe in God so that I can expand my own beliefs. I need to stop being so cynical and judgemental and absolute in what I believe Christianity to be - it's time to open my mind back up to learning. Maybe then I can start to realize how I might guide my own children in their spiritual journeys.

(Although I have a good start in this quote I found the other day: "I believe in God, only I spell it Nature." --- Frank Lloyd Wright --- A great starting point for some more study in transcendental thought.)

Well, this has gotten far too long and I'm getting tired myself. I hope the heaviness of the topic hasn't scared you away . . . I guess tonight I'm grateful for books that make me think and for nostalgia which has led me to think and read some more.

And of course, I really like my mantle clock, too . . .