|Claudia is a budding nudist.|
|Veronica models the "Bugs" look.|
There is a tendency to imagine other people's lives are tidy and neat and filled with quiet moments in a sun filled window seat sipping tea and watching birds outside. No doubt these things happen but they are moments to savor not only because in five minutes someone will clog the toilet with the toddler's missing shoe but because outside of the frame the preschooler is drawing on himself in marker. For the love of all that is clean and not full crumbs make sure you enjoy those moments! I think that there are a couple of reasons for this self defeating behavior. The biggest blame can be placed on our own shoulders because we belittle ourselves far too much. It doesn't do any good . The other thing that hurts us is Facebook. All those carefully sculpted moments in carefully chosen and perhaps even edited photos give us a single moment, a single slice in life. It is accurate and also not. Maybe those things happened as they appear but most of the time they are like those sunlit moments: fleeting and cropped.
|Jack might be looking|
forward to that salmon.
The small is very important. There are tiny, ordinary moments of our lives that are critical to our children. You won't even know until they are older. Now that I have one in college and three teens, I hear about it from then. My children could not care less about the ties although the girls really care about the shoes but it isn't what they talk about as they grow up. It is the small things, like what we eat for breakfast as we dye eggs. These things are seared into their memories and what I thought was a cop out (local bagels) turned out to be the most significant part of the experience. I was missing out on what the kids really thought was the most important part. It is bagels and lox, not my carefully selected natural egg dyes and pretty decorations for the eggs. For the children it is the bagels and lox and dyeing eggs with my mother and sister that make up their memories of the holiday. If I focus too much on what other people might think and how other people will judge us, then I will always miss what is actually happening. It is a matter of not seeing the forest for the trees.
|Isabel finally got the wedges. She is poised for|
the picture but squealed when I bought them.
I don't want to miss these things. I don't want to be so busy navel gazing that I miss what is actually happening. So, I am going to try to get my list done but if it is not all exactly perfect, I am going to let it go. I am going to remember that it is not my buffet or my meal or my photos or what people think of the dresses. In the end, it is something far greater. This holiday is about something that is all encompassing.
My Faith shapes every aspect of my life and the reason I go to church is because I believe in something so great that I cannot even begin to understand it. I can feel this in my bones. My Faith is not about sprouted bread or homemade cheese and even though these things are important to me, they cannot take the place of what matters more. Food is important, critical even, but it is not my religion. A place for everything and everything in its place is not just about proper order of material goods but especially for the immaterial.
So this Sunday, my kids will be dressed in clothes. We will arrive at the church. We will have a lovely feast. We might even have pictures. Will it be perfect? No. Not even if I give up sleeping for good. Will it be wonderful? Definitely. It is good that I am making peace with this now. The kids will be bundled up in coats and boots when we go this weekend so...nobody is really going to be looking at the clothes. Really. This is what I woke up to this morning.
By the way, that stupid local saying, "It takes new snow to melt old snow" is a freaking bald face lie. The snow had receded to halfway up the door to the outhouse and now we start over again. It is a lie, I tell you, a lie!