2013 was a bumpy one. The first year of the separation brought much anxiety, worry, stress, and fear. The second year, this past one, brought self-discovery and all the chaos that goes with it. Good decisions and bad. And lots of learning. I read a list recently of 20 things to let go of. One of them was regret - an obvious choice. But the explanation caught me off guard: at one point in your life, that "whatever" was exactly what you wanted. While the "whatevers" were not always my healthiest or best choices, they were my desires. And I have learned a great deal from them.
I feel like I've come out of a long, drawn-out fever. An adolescence I never really had. A great big ME phase. Of course the girls always come first, but when they weren't around, I was busy thinking of my next adventure, the next thing that was going to make me happy. The pendulum swung hard.
My plan for 2014 is simple: continue to have fun AND be a grown up about it. And love life.
To that end, I'm instituting a Cool Happenings 2014 jar. Whenever something wonderful - big or little - happens in our lives, we will write it down and put it in the jar. At the end of the year, we can read them out and remember. Be grateful. Giggle. I wonder if any "whatevers" will make it in? Wouldn't be the worst thing to remember those, to be grateful, to giggle.
Here's to the new year and to goodbyes to this past one. Cheers.
Monday, 30 December 2013
Tuesday, 24 December 2013
being thankful
Thanksgiving makes sense as a holiday to me in that we are thankful for the harvest. These days, when you can find cherries at the supermarket in December - albeit from Chile - it's hard to remember times when the outcome of the local harvest meant either a winter of plenty or one of great hardship. But because I live in these times of more-than-plenty, Christmas has always been my time of thanksgiving.
I am thankful not because of all the gifts I get or get to give. In fact, most times I feel thankful despite the gifts and the plenty. It feels overwhelming, with the shopping, the kids' excitement, the preparing, the expectation.
This year I am thankful for home and all that it means. I live in a land of plenty where I have more than most. I have had (shameful) moments of being dissatisfied with my house; gee, it's really small, it needs more work, the floors are slopey, there's no yard. I have seen the slums of Cairo, stayed in the hilltowns of southern Mexico, homestayed with the poor in Peru. I know that millions don't have enough to eat, don't have access to clean water, don't have enough to sustain themselves and their children. So when I have complained about having only one functioning toilet in the house and that oh no, it's in the basement, I must admit that I am embarrassed.
My girls and I are so blessed. We have a warm home, clean water, more than enough food, warm clothes to protect us from the cold, and so, so much more in terms of material goods. And then we have our health. And each other. And so much family and friends to carry us, love us, and simply be with us.
In this time of remembering the Word that came into the world on a dark night filled with anticipation and likely more than a little fear, I am thankful for all that we have.
I am thankful not because of all the gifts I get or get to give. In fact, most times I feel thankful despite the gifts and the plenty. It feels overwhelming, with the shopping, the kids' excitement, the preparing, the expectation.
This year I am thankful for home and all that it means. I live in a land of plenty where I have more than most. I have had (shameful) moments of being dissatisfied with my house; gee, it's really small, it needs more work, the floors are slopey, there's no yard. I have seen the slums of Cairo, stayed in the hilltowns of southern Mexico, homestayed with the poor in Peru. I know that millions don't have enough to eat, don't have access to clean water, don't have enough to sustain themselves and their children. So when I have complained about having only one functioning toilet in the house and that oh no, it's in the basement, I must admit that I am embarrassed.
My girls and I are so blessed. We have a warm home, clean water, more than enough food, warm clothes to protect us from the cold, and so, so much more in terms of material goods. And then we have our health. And each other. And so much family and friends to carry us, love us, and simply be with us.
In this time of remembering the Word that came into the world on a dark night filled with anticipation and likely more than a little fear, I am thankful for all that we have.
Tuesday, 10 December 2013
patience is a virtue, especially when it comes to plumbing
Renos always go over time and over budget. That's the number one rule. So I am keeping it real, trying and often enough succeeding to stay positive and be happy that we have a home. A good home. A warm home. And more stuff than we will ever really need. We moved our stuff from the house that had been our home for the past two years into the house that is really, truly ours.
The stuff moved on November 29. We didn't move ourselves in until a week later. Most of the other work was done, but there was no toilet. Last Friday, there was a toilet, but the box had been missing a piece (are you KIDDING me, I thought). So on our first night in the house we flushed by throwing a pail of water down. Just like at our friends' cottage. Sure. It's an adventure, I told the kids, and tried to convince myself. The plumber surprised us Saturday morning with the missing piece he dug out from his own stash. I could have hugged him. YES! A flushing toilet! The children were completely bewildered at how happy that made me. Small things, at this point, make all the difference.
The tile continues to be put in and grouted. It's mostly done. And if I let myself take a really good look at it without all the emotional baggage that's attached to it at the moment, it looks fabulous. The tub finally went into the bathroom today - and it fit! (This was actually a very real concern; it's a tight squeeze.) But the shower fixture I bought to go with it has the wrong attachments. There was a miscommunication between the plumber and me; I thought he told me I had to buy the fixture I wanted. Turns out he would have preferred to order it (as would I have!), and he would have bought the right pieces to boot. So he has put in the order, and it could take up to two weeks for the piece to come in. For anyone checking the calendar, that's Christmas Eve. Sigh. At least I have a functioning bath tub; we can have baths! Somehow less exciting than a flushing toilet, but I will take it. I'm not really a bath person, but with my new-to-me (original to the house) clawfoot soaker, I'm determined to give it a go.
Another rule with renos is that it won't be perfect. I know of the few imperfections already. For example, the tub being closer to the wall than anticipated because the plumber measured before we put in the insulated outer wall. There's a ripple effect to this, and I'm trying not to think about it or to see that things aren't exactly where I had planned them to be. I know that if I were to have bought the house with the bathroom just as it is (or will soon be) I would never, ever see it. So I'm letting that go, too.
This whole thing is an exercise in patience, in acceptance, and in humility. For an impetuous, high energy decision-maker like me, it's rather grounding. Maybe this house has been good for me.
The stuff moved on November 29. We didn't move ourselves in until a week later. Most of the other work was done, but there was no toilet. Last Friday, there was a toilet, but the box had been missing a piece (are you KIDDING me, I thought). So on our first night in the house we flushed by throwing a pail of water down. Just like at our friends' cottage. Sure. It's an adventure, I told the kids, and tried to convince myself. The plumber surprised us Saturday morning with the missing piece he dug out from his own stash. I could have hugged him. YES! A flushing toilet! The children were completely bewildered at how happy that made me. Small things, at this point, make all the difference.
The tile continues to be put in and grouted. It's mostly done. And if I let myself take a really good look at it without all the emotional baggage that's attached to it at the moment, it looks fabulous. The tub finally went into the bathroom today - and it fit! (This was actually a very real concern; it's a tight squeeze.) But the shower fixture I bought to go with it has the wrong attachments. There was a miscommunication between the plumber and me; I thought he told me I had to buy the fixture I wanted. Turns out he would have preferred to order it (as would I have!), and he would have bought the right pieces to boot. So he has put in the order, and it could take up to two weeks for the piece to come in. For anyone checking the calendar, that's Christmas Eve. Sigh. At least I have a functioning bath tub; we can have baths! Somehow less exciting than a flushing toilet, but I will take it. I'm not really a bath person, but with my new-to-me (original to the house) clawfoot soaker, I'm determined to give it a go.
Another rule with renos is that it won't be perfect. I know of the few imperfections already. For example, the tub being closer to the wall than anticipated because the plumber measured before we put in the insulated outer wall. There's a ripple effect to this, and I'm trying not to think about it or to see that things aren't exactly where I had planned them to be. I know that if I were to have bought the house with the bathroom just as it is (or will soon be) I would never, ever see it. So I'm letting that go, too.
This whole thing is an exercise in patience, in acceptance, and in humility. For an impetuous, high energy decision-maker like me, it's rather grounding. Maybe this house has been good for me.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)