I’ve got two guides going these days. They were both supposed to be done by now, but I still haven’t figured out how to edit text that hasn’t been written yet, and so I soldier on behind schedule. I think the count is down to this: 3 to 4 more chapters left to go across the two books. Don’t get me wrong—I am fucking THRILLED to have this work.

I am also being pulled in the direction of holiday stuff, which I’ve written about before. A number of fairly large-scale things must still be made. I am hoping to fill the coming week with enough fun stuff for the children that they will allow me some time to work. It’s a contradiction when you first look at it, but I’m taking a different (naive? no, hopeful) view: Perhaps if I invest in some extra-cool Christmas activities, they’ll leave me alone in between them. Well, there’s always the TV (with which I’m currently engaged in a sordid love-hate relationship). Today is the boys’ last day of school/daycare. Tomorrow begins three solid weeks of vacation—for them.

I also have to work like hell on my textbook revision, which I’ve let slide for the last two weeks. Somehow I must make up those hours before the end of the month because I don’t want my client to know I’ve let it sit idle for days. I think I can, I think I can.

One of my fervent hopes for the new year is that I can learn how to keep track of my shit: I would like to know at all times where my wallet, my keys, and my cell phone are, in addition to knowing where my two children are. Is that so much to ask? Apparently, for me, it is. My wallet is currently missing somewhere in my house. Last time I saw it was Wednesday, when I tipped the gardeners.

I would really like to curl up alone with a good book or six until the 2nd of January.

The days are ticking down to the Solstice. It is finally, unequivocally cold here in the sunny Californian bread basket we call the Central Valley. Ice laced the leaves and ground this morning, making everything blue and quiet. I can sense the turning inward. I see it in the eyes of all of my boys. It’s a tiredness of spirit and body. It’s a longing to stay home, snuggle up, play all day in our pajamas, and drink tea. Our morning routine has become harder to get through; Lucas and Asher both move like they are stuck in a vat of molasses. Everything is slow—waking, eating, dressing, facing the day. As parents stirring the vat everyday, we cannot succumb to the freezing of motivation. We must persist, do, go, work, accomplish. For now. Within a few days, we too will be able to relax a little. To settle in and enjoy the stillness. I’m hoping so, anyway. I’m hoping for a mellow, joyful holiday season in which we can reflect, rest, and revel in the turning of the year. 

Could all clients who owe me dough please send it to me? K. Thanks.
Your friendly editor,
S

Joy. That was the topic of today’s sermon at UUSS. It was a good reminder that joy is always accessible to us, if we make the effort to be aware of our bodies, be in the present moment, relax, breathe, and smile. Doug, the senior minister, said something that really resonated for me: "Anxiety is excitement without the benefit of oxygen." In other words, if you can focus just on breathing, you may find your anxiety mellows into a more comfortable state of excitement. I’ll take that over feeling anxious any day.

I skipped four holiday parties this weekend—one because I couldn’t get babysitting, one because I couldn’t fathom driving all the way to the Santa Cruz mountains with the kids and no hubby to help me, one because I got a better offer to hang out with   (which was a welcome balm to my soul), and one because it just didn’t fit in with our Sunday evening routine and required too much of us. I’m OK with all of this, even though I know I would have had a joyful time at any of these events. Sometimes you just gotta say No thanks to keep life simple.

Simple. Joy. I think I’m trying to rest in both of these concepts. I would like to call this my theme for the month. Wouldn’t that be marvelous? Maybe it would stave off all the anxiety and batter down the encroaching army of shoulds.

So, tonight was a simple dinner of tom ka gai and spring rolls, a little telly, some knitting, labeling jam jars, stringing popcorn garlands with the kids, and just a touch of mobsters (for work). And now to bed.

“When you wish someone joy, you wish them peace, love, prosperity, happiness… all the good things.”

—Maya Angelou

“Sometimes your joy is the source of your smile, but sometimes your smile can be the source of your joy.”

—Thich Nhat Hanh

… when I get all goosey about money. I’m a nervous wreck over Christmas because my imagination so outstrips my ability, time, energy, and cash. The possibilities I can dream up are boundless, but reality is distinctly bounded—or should be. I find it easy to get swept away with all the self-imposed shoulds. I could list out three dozen without even stopping to think, I bet. I won’t, though. I’ll spare us all that painful exercise. My creativity runs away with me and my heart overflows. I alternate between letting my mind go wild with all those delights I would like to do, make, create, give, donate, decorate, design, draw, paint, sew, cook, find    … and reigning myself in with prudent advice and wet blankets of reality: I am enough. I have enough. I do enough.

It’s all good, I guess. It’s the same hamster wheel I get on every year. I dream and wish I could somehow create magic and perfection in the lives of everyone I know and love. But I can only do so much, and then I have to forgive myself for the rest that doesn’t get done.

I’m feeling listy. The only way to record this past very full weekend is in a list. You don’t have to read it.  🙂

Saturday

* try to sleep in own bed next to own husband instead of in midget’s bed next to midget
* let husband deal with big boy’s wet bed
* don’t deal with yucky tub; let abundantly capable husband do it
* skip shower again; try to look pretty anyway
* drive to Folsom, get lost-ish 
* let super talented and generous friends take photos of family (Thank you!)
* visit super talented, generous friends who have cats and super talented visiting friend
* eat burritos; watch baby make friends with everyone
* clean house the bare minimum
* meet Scottish plumber
* take big boy to RSC marionette show of Mother Mary gathering threads for the robe she will weave for the child during Advent
* attend Advent Spiral ceremony with small children, apples, stars, and fire; enjoy lovely and simple vocal christmas music
* shop a little for midget boy with big boy in tow; big boy eats lots of star-shaped cookies
* dress up for a party as best one can without shower
* drive to parents/babysitters; leave children and run away
* attend party for five glorious hours with darling friends
* make love to cupcake frosting for the camera even though all frosting is gross
* drink plenty of vodka and Fresca
* leave party at stroke of midnight; race home before the CRV turns into a blue pumpkin
* pick up children; put them to bed

* surrender to night

Sunday

* sleep crappy almost all night in midget’s bed

* succumb to cold

* breakfast and pack up for day of FUN

* drive to Apple Hill with coffee and hot cocoa in hand; leave foggy valley behind

* find crummy Xmas tree farm; they don’t take cards

* get back in car to find ATM in tiny Camino

* return to crummy Xmas tree farm with cash in hand

* tromp 50 yards down a hill with 50 other people looking for the perfect Xmas tree

* find “perfect” Xmas tree in 5 minutes flat; marvel at how hot it is

* keep looking a little more to extend the delightful experience

* tromp back up the hill while taking pictures

* comfort baby who gets smashed in face with tree boughs

* get back in car and stop for lunch at Bavarian Inn, where they serve four different kinds of wieners and a last piece of meat pie

* have a cultural experience; is hickish Apple Hill really only 40 minutes from Sacramento?

* argue with Lucas about what constitutes a special treat at Apple Hill: a lolly is not our idea of “regional cuisine.” How about some apple pie?

* stop again at Boa Vista Orchards for craft faire shopping and pie; buy a pretty wreath for home

* drive home, unload Xmas tree, set it up

* pull out lights, start with color. Not enought. Unwind lights and start over with mix of color and white

* decorate tree with ornaments: soft unbreakable ones near the bottom

* oh, yeah. Dinner. Good thing there’s leftover pizza.

* second Sunday of Advent, “it is the light of plants” (hence the tree)

* ready children for bed; children are completely manic

* collapse in cocoon of sniffles, sinus pressure, and warm bed

* too much caffeine so stay up at least an hour and a half extra thinking about all the things to be done

Is that not the sweetest, most melodious word in the English language? I’m told I’ll be getting my first royalties check in March for the med term textbook I and three others wrote, which was published last August. At this point we have no idea how much money it will be. Textbooks tend to be adopted slowly at first, then pick up sales over the next few years. Hopefully, if the first check is modest, perhaps subsequent checks will be more. My percentage is quite small, so this isn’t ever going to make me rich, but I love the idea of money flowing in every six months because of work I did in the past. "Residual income." That’s a musical little phrase, too! If the book does fairly well, it could maybe have a lifespan of 20+ years or so, with revisions every few years.

I am so tired. My sleep is constantly interrupted, like between four and six times a night. Sometimes it’s Lucas, mostly it’s Asher waking me. Sometimes one of the boys wakes up at 5 a.m. and doesn’t go back to sleep. I haven’t slept more than 2 or 3 hours straight since May of 2006. It’s not the same as choosing to go without for a night for a fun reason, like debauchery, rock music, or even all-night sophmoric discussions. It’s a constant debt and it affects my mental health.

Ian tries to help me. On the weekends he gets up early with the kids and sometimes I can sleep till 8 or 8:30 a.m. Rarely until 9. He is a prince for doing this. But I’m still deeply deprived (of this one resource).

Someday, I will sleep through the night again. Someday, I will sleep through the night again. Someday, I will sleep through the night again. Maybe if I say it enough, I’ll be restored.

…

maybe I’m finally getting sick …

IMG_9278
Originally uploaded by SarabellaE

Yesterday Lucas and I had the afternoon alone together while Asher was with grandma. We played in the leaves and I got some lovely shots of Lucas having fun. He is so wonderful sometimes. We had a perfect time together. He decides it was Star Day, and collected goodies, such as star-shaped leaves, fruits, cookies, and “moon rocks,” to hide in our shoes. I guess this means he’s ready for St. Nicholas day this Saturday!

Dearest Thaemos,

Happy birthday, my friend! You are more fun, more energetic, more brilliant, more intense, more charming, more courageous, more inventive, more dynamic, more powerful, more generous, more savvy, more idealistic, more honest, and more sensitive than any one human has a right to be. You burn so, so bright in my life. I cherish the (18) years I have known you and been your friend. I hope many years from now, when we’re wrinkled, gray, and rheumatic,  to be sitting on the same font stoop together, rocking in rockers, drinking whiskey neat, and planning our next big ritual / art car / political coup / gallery opening / planned community / Fortune 500 company / shrine / robotic slave manufacturing plant / chemical adventure / masquerade ball / orgy. I love you in all your myriad incarnations and unrelenting glory.

Sara