Christmas 2007

Here are some random photos from Christmas day and the cookies we made.


And also some of Anna, Skylar and Piper.



Can I just say how much I LOVE having Christina living nearby? When we were in college, we used to fantasize about all of us (me, Christina and Jen) forming an intentional community with our future spouses and children. Our kids would be raised as siblings, we'd share a huge organic garden and all of us would gather for Sunday evening meals. And then we all went in different directions: I moved to Oregon, Jen to California and Christina to San Juan Island. She seemed to be living closest to our dream, but then Jen and I each got married and had children and put down roots elsewhere. Christina, always the FREE SPIRIT (to the degree that capital letters are required!), lived the WILD, adventurous life. We'd talk on the phone, me nursing my daughter while Christina regaled me with stories about weekend rock climbing trips to Joshua Tree, meeting movie stars and living off the land in a one-room cabin without plumbing. I shared stories about Anna's sleeping habits and first words. We joked that we were living vicariously through each other. Then she met a man and moved to Los Angeles, of all places. And then SHE had children. I ended up moving from Oregon to a town adjacent to the town in which her dad lived, though, so she'd come to visit once a year and that was better than nothing. And then, THEN, she told me that she and her husband had decided to move here. They were tired of paying $2400rent for a 1200 sq. ft. house in a part of LA where it was common to hear gun-shots. They didn't want to raise their girls there. And so this summer, they did it: they bought a house in N. Idaho. She's still too far away (15 miles) for me; I'd like them to be next door. But she assures me they'll work on that, too. In the mean time, she and the girls (her husband, also named David, travels a lot to work on films) come over regularly and our girls LOVE each other. Her daughters come to me if they need a mommy and she's not available, and they climb up into David's lap to read to them while Christina and I enjoy a glass of wine.
I finally have an extended family here. Life is good.

Here's Piper in the pajama shirt I made for her. I think she likes it!

epiphany:

"a sudden, intuitive perception of or insight into the reality or essential meaning of something, usually initiated by some simple, homely, or commonplace occurrence or experience."

This was my first Christmas with David. David is Jewish, although as a small child his family did put up a tree and there were presents. However, when he was 6 the course of his life was changed forever (or, as he puts it, "the shit hit the fan".) After that, there was no more Christmas tree and there certainly was no Santa; there could be no more allusions of any sort of fantasy. As an adult, he and his previous wife didn't celebrate Christmas or exchange gifts either.

Now, if you know me, you know that I LOVE Christmas. I love the tree, I love the lights, I love the decorations, and I love finding or making really special presents for the people in my life. And, well, I like it when they reciprocate. David let it be known early on that he absolutely, positively DID NOT WANT ANYTHING FOR CHRISTMAS because there is nothing he needs or wants. At some point in the past few weeks it became clear that I shouldn't be expecting anything under the tree, either. Not only is he Jewish, he is very anti-consumerism. He was irritated by all the obnoxious advertising on tv and in the newspaper, he wasn't too sure about the large dead tree in our living room, and he definately could do without the Charlie Brown Christmas music I insisted on playing constantly. Now, lest you begin to think he's a total scrooge, let it be known that this man has the biggest, most generous, loving heart of anyone I've ever known. This summer he insisted I let him buy me a new bike. I struggled with what to get: a mountain bike that I could actually exercise on, or the totally impractical yet unbelievably adorable cruiser I'd fallen in love with. I got the mountain bike. And then a month later, he surprised me with the cruiser because he said I just belonged on that bike. He LOVES to give to the people he loves, just not when it's "expected" or mandated by some holiday based on a religion in which neither of us believe. But...but...it's CHRISTMAS. I enjoyed Christmas more this year than I have in YEARS, because I am happier than I have ever been in my life. My contentment has allowed my creativity to explode, and in the months leading up to Christmas, I spent hours and hours crafting and sewing Christmas presents. I actually enjoyed going out into the world and shopping for wrapping paper and bows and ribbons and ornaments. I hummed Christmas music. I BAKED 4 DIFFERENT KINDS OF CHRISTMAS COOKIES TO DELIVER TO THE NEIGHBORS. I had Christmas spirit oozing out of my pores this year for crying out loud!! And to be honest, it bothered me that David wasn't as into it as I was. How could he not be? And then to add insult to injury, he wasn't even going to get me a present?? After all, if he loved me, how could he not buy me something to prove it at Christmas?

Now here's the crazy thing about this relationship: when something is bothering one of us, we TALK about it. I know, weird, huh? So we were laying in bed one night discussing that it hurt my feelings a bit that he didn't want to exchange Christmas presents. As always, he carefully and considerately explained his point of view (that we shouldn't buy presents for someone just because it's expected; that it is in fact much more fun to do it when it's not expected.) As I lay next to the man I love, listening to him so eloquently explain his feelings (because it is very important to him that we always communicate and that there are no misunderstandings), I had an epiphany: in the past (my first marriage and other relationships) I treated Christmas as an opportunity for my partner to prove to me that he valued and understood me, preferably in the form of a large, nice, expensive box (or six) under the tree. But here's the thing: unlike ANY of my past relationships, David makes sure that I know, every single day, that I am loved and valued. He tells me every day that I am the love of his life. He tells both Anna and I that we are the best things that ever happened to him. He tells us both how happy he is that we are part of his life. He calls us his "two sun-shines" and is so generous with his heart and his affection (not to even mention that he has made HIS home OUR home). He listens to me and he actually ACTS on the things that matter to me (like keeping the kitchen clean) because he wants me to be happy. And I realized - fully understood for the first time - that I don't need "things" to know that I am valued.

All I need is LOVE.

And I've got that.

two more of my favorite things

I can't imagine my life without either of them.

warm woolen noses and raindrops on kittens

because my creative well hath run dry, today's post will be about a few of my favorite (very sweet) things:


from knitting iris, how gorgeous is this corner of her home?

I'm totally stealing this idea for next year.

from bella dia, this gorgeous handmade little felt house:

and also:

I just LOVE her sense of whimsy and sweet little details. I mean, those tiny flowers! The puff of smoke! Ack!!

This picture makes my ovaries explode:

from Pioneer Woman.


This picture:

and the stories about Charlie on The Daily Coyote.

This smiling CORGI puppy:


and last but not least, (because what would Christmas be without a little consumerism??) I can not stop thinking about this sweater:

How frickin' sweet is that?? Damn you, Anthropologie.

do you see what I see?

Bug made this for me as a surprise; she locked herself in the room with a bag of pipecleaners and then installed it on the wall of my little sewing room. She knows that I'm a bird-nerd; is this cute or what? I love that you can give her a box of popsicle sticks or a bunchof pipecleaners and she can literally entertain herself for hours.

I love that kid.

duuuuuuuuuuuuuude!!

Uncle Ra Ra sent this to me a few days ago and I can't stop thinking about it. Talk about crazy. I'd totally try this....but over some nice, SOFT sand-dunes. How 'bout you? Would you try it?

and you probably don't want to know

There's a "meme" going around amongst bloggers where you're supposed to share 8 things people may not know about you. What is a "meme"? Hell if I know.

So. Here we go. In no particular order:

8. I once spent several hours in jail in Lewiston Idaho. I was a young, STUPID college student and got caught driving on a suspended license. I was in a little cell, sitting on a filthy mattress, afraid to touch anything. They didn't even have any good magazines. I cried and cried. My boyfriend at the time (Dan) had to come bail me out and brought our friend Drew. They thought it was the funniest thing in the whole world. I did not. But I can laugh about it now....sort of.

7. If I could have any talent in the world, I would be able to sing like Patsy Cline, Allison Krause or Neko Case. Country music is just so much fun to sing.

6. My family knows this about me (because they suffer from the same affliction), but few things make me laugh harder than seeing someone get hurt. Not, you know, bleeding or anything, but if you bonk your head on a tree branch or fall down a set of stairs and I will seriously pee my pants laughing. I almost pee my pants just THINKING about it. Shortly after I wrote this, I bonked MY head on the slanted ceiling in Anna's room and she fell down laughing. Oh god, it's hereditary.

5. I can eat the same thing for dinner (or lunch) for literally weeks (and sometimes months) on end. Once when we lived in Oregon, I ate gorgonzola pasta with walnuts and spinach every. single. night. for dinner for 3 1/2 months. In college I lived almost entirely on poptarts. Right now, I'm on week 5 of tuna sandwiches every day for lunch.

4. I can not stomach the sight of blood. Once, on a field trip to a veterinarian's office, we were watching a cat get spayed and as soon as the doctor made the incision, I barfed. Seriously, what kind of field trip was that?? If Anna's watching "Animal Rescue" on Animal Planet, I can not even be in the same room.

3. Speaking of school, our fourth grade teacher made each of us stand up next to our desks, raise our arms and she would come around to smell our armpits to see if we had "body odor". She also asked each of us if we'd had a "bowel movement" yet that day. How weird and CREEPY is that?? Fourth grade, people.

2. I get seriously pissy if our kitchen is dirty (David loves this about me) and yet I can go months (if not years) without cleaning my car. I think I still have cheerios in the back seat from when Anna was little. It's embarrassing.

1. I wear only black underwear. I don't know why, but I just can not wear patterned or colored underwear. It feels cheap and tacky to me. (yeah, I know, I'm weird.) Also: no thongs, ever. I tried it one time because a friend insisted that once I did I'd never wear anything else and I had to go home from work in the middle of the day because I was having such a "bad underwear day" that I couldn't concentrate on anything other than that little string. eeewwwwwwww.....

Now, for those of you with blogs, I hope you'll share 8 things we may not know about you. Be sure and let me know if you do because (bonus! #9!) I am very, very nosy. Also, you can share some in the comments, MOM. : )