Saturday, December 31, 2011

Happy New Year

It's New Year's eve 2011.  I'm on the floor having a breakfast 'picnic' with my boys.  Currently their lovies, Fluffy and Via, are imitating the Power Rangers which is on the t.v.  Dad, Pappy and Frankie the Wonderdog are catching up on some sleep.

I have a little time before I have to deal with the pork roast.  My Dad requested one that falls apart and doesn't need cut (if you know the name of that type of roast, let me know...).

2011 has been, in large part, not very good.  I could couch it in spiritual terms of 'building character'.  I could rationalize the financial burden as a 'turn down in the economy'.  I could make excuses for poor decision making as 'doing the best we could'.  I could philosophize death and loss as 'part of the circle of life' (cue the Lion King theme).

Instead I will simply say, it's been tough and I am glad it's over.

There is one thing I have always loved and that's a good redemption story.  Could be my faith, which is singularly built on the hope and promise of beauty for ashes.  Could be my inner squishie which really just wants everyone to do and be their very best. 

Whatever the reason, that is what I and my family will be in 2012-a good redemption story.

How do I know?  Lying in the ashes of this year are some refined nuggets of wisdom.  Wisdom tried and purified in the fires of lack, loss and laziness.  My resolution for 2012?  Pick up those nuggets and put them to use. 

The first nugget?  Time with children needs to be quality AND quantity.  Once upon a time, I thought the 30 minutes I could be eye to eye with my little fellas after work/dinner/homework was enough.  Once upon another time, my mothering pendulum swung the other way.  24/7 with the little guys was the ONLY way to go.  Now, at least for me, there is a balance.  Spending 24/7 where we all satellite each other in our own orbit isn't really quality.  And spending time playing, talking and laughing together for hours on end isn't realistic.  What matters is a balance of both.  They need me.  They don't need a full agenda of developmentally appropriate and intellectually stimulating activities.  They also need to know they can be okay without me.

So here we sit, in the waning hours of 2011 laughing and singing along with cartoons.  My heart is full as my four year old cuddles in close to watch me type.  I discuss with my 8 year old whether Doofenschmurtz or Perry is the coolest.  And my pocket is full of a nugget inscribed with quality + quantity.

2012 is already shaping up to be a good year. 

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