Well, the World Didn't End in 2012...

"It's been a long December and there's reason to believe
Maybe this year will be better than the last.
I can't remember all the times I tried to tell myself
To hold on to these moments as they pass."
--lyrics of "A Long December" by Counting Crows

And so go the words sung by a beloved band from my teenage years. Decembers are long 'round here. The sun sets by 4:30 p.m. The sun begins to glint after 7 a.m. A few weeks ago after watching White Christmas, I wondered if we'd get a Christmas miracle of a cold white wonderland. It trickled into the upper valley on Christmas Eve and a few days later, BAM! I'm now living in a Vermont Christmas card.

It's been another year. It started high and ended...well, my feelings are mixed. I choose to live with faith and optimism, but the longer I live, I am exposed to more tragedy that frightens me for the innocent ones  living under my protective wings. But, we all carry on. Life is still a beautiful gift. It must be cherished until the last grains of sand slip through that hour glass called mortality.

So that is where my mind is right now: I'm trying to hold and appreciate all of life's little moments as much as I can. With this being the eve of a brand new year, I feel internal strings pulling me towards the keyboard--must be coming from the reflections from the past six or so weeks. Or it comes from the inquiries from family and friends who are concerned about whether I am still alive.

Hanging by a thread over here, but yes, she has a pulse!

Fact:  I haven't blogged since November.
Reality:  Oh, nobody has noticed? Figures.

Fact:  I'm growing a little human being.
Reality:  This human being is a boy. And he ain't little. Past experience has taught me that he will be born the size of a newborn elephant.

Fact: Most people didn't know this until after I was 20 weeks along.
Reality: This leads me to wonder if others think it's normal to see me walking around with my three chins. Am I really that chubby and frumpy when I'm not pregnant? Ouch. I'll ponder on that.

Fact:  To improve my repertoire in the kitchen, I took two more baking classes from King Arthur Flour.
Reality:  Baking beautiful things ends when I leave the doors of KAF. I won't be posting pictures from the pie crust I made for our Thanksgiving banana cream pie--grade F for presentation, but an A+ for taste.

Fact: My little Indy had her first trip to the ED for four stitches.
Reality:  She had her second trip to the ED three days later for croup.

Fact:  She wanted her pink blanket to comfort her through the pain.
Reality: Pink Blanket took a back seat when Dad met up with her at the hospital.
Bonus: Emergency personnel showered her with new furry bears; the names are as follows: Baby Stitches, Fuzzy Bear, and Doctor Bear.

Fact:  Dora the Explorer and Go Diego Go! are sensationally annoying.
Reality:  But nothing puts a smile to my face when Finn shouts jubilantly, "Swiper no swiping! Swiper no swiping! Swiper NO swiping!" and his sister's chipmunk voice answers, "Oh, maaan!"

Fact:  My two are best friends.
Reality:  But they fight like siblings.

Fact: I love the season of Christmas with children.
Reality:  Christmas with children is a lot of work. I was sweating like a hog anticipating any tiny sleight of hand while the kids and I admired the Hanover Inn's delicate gingerbread display.

Fact: I participated in a holiday boutique again--baby leggings, baby hats, tree ornaments, fabric notebooks, glass pebble magnets, jewelry...
Reality: I'm not cut out for this type of stuff. It's a low blow to my self esteem when passers by don't even give a sniff to my hard work. I think to myself, "not cute enough? is it junk? too pricey? fine, I'll use it myself." After so many hours spent crafting, I now appreciate people who do this type of thing for a living.

Fact: Christmas isn't Christmas without Pomegranate 7up, Pear Cinnamon Cider, and Candy Cane Joe Joe's.
Reality: For the third year in a row, I was deeply irritated to be unable to locate a trace of Pom 7up. Found a decent replacement in the Polar brand. Took care of the last two items after finding a new TJ location while Christmas shopping near the NH/MA border.

Fact:  I made a fascinator hat to wear to Boy's Christmas party with his department. Good thing I can count on my stretchy LBD for these types of outings. I even went all out and bought a $4 bling ring to fancy it out. Mama looked hot.
Reality: My dressy ensemble was overshadowed by Boy's mustache that he worked so hard to grow out for two months.
Bonus: No, neither of us won the contest for "best hat" nor "best 'stache".
Extra bonus: He's clean shaven once again. Hallelujah.
[No bonus: No photo of said mustache included. I refuse. I refuse. I refuse.] 

Fact:  My favorite part of Christmas were the lights and nativity in Sharon, Vermont.
Reality:  While my kids made friends a Palestinian donkey named Annie and admire baby Jesus for a moment, they would rather play with their new trains and doll stroller on Christmas morning.
Bonus:  I realize my kids are still young to understand the meaning of Christmas...passing up my oven-baked quiche lorraine and hot butterscotch rolls to play with toys? What blasphemy!

Fact:  Over the weekend, our local airport (hint: small) had tickets to fly to Boston or New York City for $12 per person. Dost my ears deceive me? Twelve? My heart fluttered for the Big Apple.
Reality:  By the time we heard about this scream of a deal, all the flights were full unless you were flying solo. New Year's weekend down in Times Square wasn't meant to be.

This lengthy post doesn't guarantee a quick return to blogging, but to everyone I love--a very happy new year!

May 2013 be a good year...

Stuff

• My children's disobedience to Daylight Savings nearly killed me. Why didn't I unscrew the lightbulb in their bedroom and lock them inside? Maybe I should have used duck tape to strap them into bed.
• It is no longer effective to say, "Don't get out of bed until the sun is up." Naughty children. Especially that not-so-sweet Indy punk who has a way of persuading her brother how to disobey authority.
• I wish I could survive off 4 hours of sleep or less. Alas, it is not so. 

• If no miracle occurs tomorrow on election night, at least I witnessed one tonight at dinner when Finn the Finicky Food Eater declared, "Good job, Mom," after gingerly tasting a bite from his plate. One experimental spoonful turned into two, and so on...[silent fist bump from me].
• I still can't get used to Peyton Manning wearing an orange jersey. It's so wrong. Soooo wrong. And to think that I didn't care one iota about NFL football.
• I like the name Peyton. On the list.
• Boy still hasn't gotten rid of our Indianapolis Colts decal on our car window. Call it love. I've been waiting for some die-hard Patriots fan to blow up our car.
• As for blowing up cars, I recently forgot to turn my engine off when I filled my gas tank. No, we didn't blow up, but the thought crossed my mind.  

• I'm relishing rare naps with my Indy girl. Her fuzzy golden hair tickles my chin and her warm skin still smells of Heaven. She reminds me that she's no longer a baby, but it's in that moment that it feels right to be sending her off to grow up while I prepare for another baby. 
• I wish that somebody would put Halloween candy out of my reach. Sometimes having to be a responsible adult really bites.
• I am a Neti Pot convert. Overcome your stubborn fears like I did, and breathe happily. 
• I love it when Boy comes home with a paper bag from Panera: hot cheddar and broccoli soup in a sourdough bread bowl.

• Eating ice cream outside during this time of year qualifies us for some kind of prize. When it comes to ice cream, we are no wimps.
• What's better than ice cream? Homemade smoothies. And smoothie mustaches.
• We drink so much apple cider a week that we think it's starting to replace the blood in our veins. 

Which cider is better: Vermont or New Hampshire?

It all tastes the same.

For the record, local tastes best. Grocery store imported brands taste rotten.

A Haunting We Will Go...

These days, the enjoyment of blogging has slumped into a vast abyss of nothingness. I'm a moody writer/journal keeper/blogger/human being/slave driver/mother/wife. How did all the fun drain out? I rarely turn on my desktop--that has been collecting dust as of late. I slap on photo files to my external hard drive and never look at them again. I read political campaign news on the iPad until I get heartburn. I don't even read blogs as much as I used to--I'd rather watch reruns of Everybody Loves Raymond on Netflix because it takes zero mental effort and as a bonus, I burn all the calories from the 60 donuts I ate for dinner because I'm laughing out loud so freaking hard. Pure lethargic bliss. Fancy that. I don't know how or where to get a sensible mojo back. Either pregnant hormones are shutting out my happiness neurons or I need to find something else that prompts ambition in my spare time.

Eh, spare time? That's when my sacrosanct nap hour begins. I can never get enough.

Tonight, as the kids were trick-or-treating with their dad, I poked my head out of the front door window to see them galloping from house to house in our neighborhood. Man, I love watching childhood. Being in the thick of it is rough, but watching it from afar is sweeter than Halloween candy. Awww. I don't think I've seen more precious looking superheroes. Captain America and Catwoman Cat girl played their parts well--neither would dare shrug off their secret identities. It was as if their masks transformed them into the real deal. Indy insisted to be called Cat Girl at all times and wouldn't leave that rhinestone blinged-out black cat mask alone. I guess that leaves me with needing to start accumulating various dress-ups for these two.

Fortunately for us in northern New England, we escaped the wrath of Hurricane Sandy this week. The storm was howling in the grim October air, but we were safe and had power all night long. I never thought that I'd ever say this in my ENTIRE life, but I'm so glad to not be residing in New York City right now. The photos I've seen online make me depressed. We were very blessed to avoid the flooding and mess that we had over a year ago when Irene came through.

Oh, and we had a earthquake out here just last week or so. October hasn't failed in bringing scary surprises to our neck of the woods.

Happy Halloween.

boston lot lake--west lebanon, nh

world-famous pumpkin festival in keene, nh