One of my friends on Facebook has a one year old- the most darling, beautiful little boy.  She posts about how she can’t believe how fast he’s growing, how quickly the time goes by and how much she’ll miss his wrist folds, chubby cheeks and open mouth kisses. She posted a beautiful video the other day about the last time…not knowing when it will be the last time your rock your baby to sleep, the last time you pick them up, the last time they ask you to read to them because the next day, they’ll be too old to need that again. It was gorgeous and I admit to getting choked up for a minute…

…and then I thought how much I don’t miss that.

I look back on the kid’s younger years with so much joy and love in my heart. I loved the squishy newborn years and the sweet/crazy making toddler years. I loved the excitement of preschool and the earnestness of the start of elementary school – but I don’t miss it. I wouldn’t go back there.

So then, of course, I start wondering if I’m a horrible person. Am I wishing my kid’s childhoods away? Am I not present enough? Am I rushing them to grow up? Am I heartless that I don’t wail over every new milestone? Do my kids know how much I adore them at every age? Am I wrong to much prefer my kids old enough to tell me when they are sick, read books with me and laugh at inappropriate humor? Because while I have adored every age with these kids these are the best years.

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After all that-  I know I’m not completely heartless because occasionally I’ll come across an old picture that makes me gasp. These were taken 8 years ago today.

That’s 3 year old Scorch a month before he started his first year of t-ball. This year, he’s in his last year of Little League. He still love to catch and the Hubs is still his biggest fan and constant coach. There will be rose ceremony on Opening Day marking this crazy baseball milestone and *poof* next year he’ll start 7th grade and modified sports. I don’t know how that’s possible.

While the boys played, this 20 month old wanted to climb. She wanted to climb and escape and do the opposite of what you wanted her to do. She never wanted to ride quietly in her stroller, didn’t want to be confined and she spit nails if you tried to make her. This year she’s in 4th grade…and she hasn’t changed. Her cheeks are less chubby and she’s got a hell of a lot more hair- but that fire still burns.

I may not miss those itty bitty kids, but I do marvel at how fast they grew.

The good news is this winter is going by crazy fast! The bad? It’s been almost a month since I’ve wrote anything here.

Normally winter drags here in the frozen north. I can handle November and December because of the holidays, but mid-January through mid-March are the longest months. The days are short, cold and snowy and my motivation to do anything is at a low—all of which doesn’t help pass the time. But this year I decided to change things up a bit and became a skier.

Again.

The first time I skied was middle school when all the kids joined ski club. We’d hop on a bus after school, drive for 35 minutes and then have 3 hours to ski before heading home. It was the most freedom we had had pretty much had ever and I was so excited. But then I realized I hated the snow, was lazy and that enjoying hot chocolate and french fries was much more fun than falling down a mountain, so the total time actually spent skiing that year was probably under an hour.

8 years ago, my brother was running his own ski club at the school he taught at. He needed an other adult to chaperone the kids, so I volunteered. The Bean was 6 months old at the time and I was dying to get out of the house.  I was so desperate that spending hours out in the cold, hurling my body down a mountain seemed like a better alternative than putting a 2 year old and a 6 month old to bed. Shocking no one, I didn’t like skiing any better this time around- especially after I had an epic wipe out that resulted in one of my skis going down the hill without me while people chanted “Go Lady!” at me from the ski lift as I walked down after it.

So, why, you’re wondering, would things be any different this time around? This time, I was actually doing it with my kids. And there isn’t much I wouldn’t do for them. So, for the past 6 Thursdays I’ve been starting all over again and learning how to ski properly. Scorch has been snow boarding for 3 years now, so he’d go off with his ski club buddies while the Bean, having never skied before, took lessons. Since she was not going anywhere without me, I took lessons as well. And- AMAZINGLY- skiing isn’t so scary when you learn how to do it right! (Shocking, I know).

By the start of week 2, Bean and I graduated off the Bunny Hill. That meant for 4 weeks in a row, I got to bomb down the slopes with two of my favorite people. And by bomb,  I mean, they bombed with zero fear. Me? Well, I made really, really, really big s-turns while repeating calming phrases to myself out loud- things like “you’re not going to fall” and “you won’t die” and “if Beyonce can carry twins, you can ski!”.

Thursdays very quickly became all of our favorite night of the week. The Hubs is normally the one who does all the  physical activities with the kids, so it’s been great to have something that is just ours, where I get to be a participant instead of the cheerleader from the sidelines. The Hubs has had 5 major knee surgeries in in the past 25 years, so you couldn’t pay him enough to try to ski.

So here we are in March. Ski season is over and I learned that you’re never too old to try something new. Again. (And when you wipe out—because you will, even invoking Beyonce can’t help that—helmets are a wonderful, wonderful thing.)

Sometimes Christmas is picture perfect. From start to finish, the whole holiday and the time off around it is magical. The kids act and look like angels, the time with family is meaningful and special and everyone glows with happiness.

Annnnddd sometimes your kid wakes up with the stomach bug on Christmas morning and is so pitiful she doesn’t even unwrap half her gifts. That’s just the way life goes, unfortunately.

The good news is some of our family still braved coming over for dinner yesterday, no one else in our immediate family got sick (sorry extended family, you got screwed) and all this time stuck at home has given me plenty of time to put things away. Now, I need my kid to get better, the rest of us to stay healthy and the rest of this week to go according to plan. #fingerscrossed

So here we sit, on Christmas Eve, Eve, Eve, Eve (I think) and I’m surprisingly zen over the small number of presents that have actually been wrapped. Who ever said life slows down around the holidays lied, y’all. Not when your job needs to hit year end quotas and your kids play sports, and in orchestra and sing in concerts. And I’m not complaining because most of the things that make it super hard to find time to wrap are what makes our life full in some of the best ways. I am, however, wondering when my panic will set in. Check in in 24 hours.

The Hub’s solution to my lack of wrapping is to tell me to take everything to the mall and leave it at one of those places that wrap for charity. Honestly, I think that’s a great idea if I could get past my worry over mislabeled gifts or non-matching wrapping paper. I have a systems- half-assed and last minute as it is- and I shudder when I think of some one breaking it.

~*~*~

My kids got their video from Santa last night, letting them know if they are on the naughty or nice list for the year. A few years back, the Bean was on the “Could Go Either Way” list, so these videos are met with equal part delight and terror. I don’t know how much longer they’ll love these videos, but for right now they are one of our favorite traditions. I never knew kids could literally vibrate with nerves and excitement until we started getting these.

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That damn wrapping fairy hasn’t showed yet, so it’s time to start binge watching something (suggestions?!) and wrapping. Say a prayer for me.

So, today was a day, huh? I had a coworker leave the office in tears because she was so upset over the results of the election, as she wondered how Trump and his ideologies will impact her family. I have friends who are thrilled that the old establishment is out and someone new is in power. I had to reassure my kids that Trump won’t kick their Indian friends out of the country.

Tonight I found out that two young people from my hometown died tragically this past weekend.  I did some digging around on Facebook and news sites to find out more about these children and their families. I found GoFundMe sites. I found meal trains. I found people – strangers- reaching out to give comfort and help. None of that can replace these gorgeous children who were lost, but it helped prove to me that most people are good. Most people are kind and generous and loving.

That is what I’m thankful for today. I know a lot of people won’t agree with me on that point, but believing that most people are good is what I’m clinging to right now. For my sanity. For my children’s future.

It’s easy to get caught up in the rhetoric and to lose all hope, but don’t. Please, don’t. Regardless of who won and who you voted for, we can all agree there is a lot of work to be done so that both sides feel heard and represented. So remember that core of goodness, and work towards that.

You guys, this election season has SUCKED. I mean, it’s been bad. The hate, vitriol, name-calling and fear-mongering on both sides has been mind blowing. If aliens came down today and decided to judge humans based on what’s in my Facebook feed, they’d just turn around and leave because no one needs the amount of hate and negativity in their lives.

I get that this election is a Big Deal and there is a lot of stake here. I’m intelligent, well-read and as informed as I can be. I try to talk to my kiddos fairly and to present to them an accurate picture of each candidate because what they hear is the worst of the worst- Hillary killed men, Trump hates anyone who isn’t white. And just like every thing out there, the truth about both candidates is found somewhere between the absolute worst and the rosy optimism.

So, here we are on Election Day. And I’m so thankful for that. This election has shown the ugly underbelly of a lot of America on both sides and I’m hoping (praying/wishing) that regardless of who wins, we all walk away from this election season knowing that we have a lot of work to do on so many fronts to knit our country back together.

I’m also damn thankful I have this *right* to vote. Women have only been allowed to vote for the past 94 years- before that, I wouldn’t have had a voice. That is mind boggling to me. The number of smart, passionate, well-informed women I know is staggering and the thought that there was a time when we were kept silent is sobering. There is still so much to be done for woman’s rights even in an amazing country like the US, but this -this right to have our voice heard – is so very fundamental and will help propel the rest of these changes forward. So here’s to the bad-ass women who fought hard to for the right to vote, to the bad-ass women that are working for a change today and the bad-ass women to come who will keep propelling positive changes forward so we can all benefit.

Up until a month ago, I was the proud, lucky aunt to 6 nephews and 1 niece. 5 of my  nephews live in the mid-west, 14 hours away and my niece and other nephew live 7 hours south of here.  We try to see our mid-western family at least once a year and the southern family every 2-3 months, but I’ve never had a niece or nephew that lived by.

Now I’m the proud, lucky aunt to 6 nephews and 2 nieces since my sister-in-law gave birth to the most perfect baby girl in October. She, my brother and the new baby live 45 minutes away which is like heaven and makes last minute get together’s a breeze.

I’m extraordinarily thankful for all my nieces and nephews and the technology that allows us to be a part of each other’s lives even when we’re hours and hours away. But after a fantastic dinner with my favorite 3 week old, I’m extra thankful for the blessing of having one of those nieces live near by so I can watch her grow up in person. Is it too soon to ask my brother and his wife when they are going to have baby #2?!