All is calm. (Sort of.)
All is calm, all is bright.
This is what I’ve been singing to myself as Duplos fly through the air, dishes pile up in the sink, Clark runs through the living room with a plastic ear of corn from the play kitchen in his mouth, and I realize that I forgot (for the 33rd time) that we are (still) out of olive oil.
In a rare quiet moment this week, I found myself listening to Silent Night and wondering if Christmas Eve (like, the real one… which is to say, the first one) truly was calm and bright. Having given birth twice, I sort of feel like “sweaty and weird” would be much higher on the list than “calm and bright.”
But hey, miracles are miracles.
Speaking of miracles, I’ve started wearing something other than black leggings every now and then (an occasion that needed to be photo-documented, obvi)… granted, they’re still leggings. {I couldn’t find the exact match online, but they are Align II pants, which I live in, in sort of an aubergine. Or like, purple.}
Back to the calm and brightness. I find myself so easily distracted, so easily swept up in glitter and garland, so easily carried away this time of year. There’s this weird tension of wanting to do everything (especially if Christmas lights are involved), and also wanting to hibernate. Of having more, knowing others have less. Of counting down the days, but also wishing time would slow.
And I think about how moments of calm, moments of brightness can exist amidst all this tension. (See: that first Christmas Eve, right?)
I’ve just got to pay better attention.
Children, despite seeming to have the attention span of a whatever (I’m at a loss here… and also, not a scientist… what has a tiny attention span?), are really good at noticing and creating these moments.
We’ve been spending most of our weekends on the Cape and after a meltdown related to a donut being too big (…really), Grace asked if we could “go inside that windmill house.” We pulled over and went to check it out, while the Nicks (I should probably get that trademarked) waited in the car.
We did not go inside (decidedly against the rules) and to Grace’s disappointment, the “windmill house” was just a windmill. But we admired the shell pathway around it. We read the sign next to it. We talked about the nativity and the menorah nearby. We held hands. The wind whipped and cars flew by on Route 6 and the donut was still too big, but all was calm. All was bright. My pants weren’t black. And my heart felt full.
Here’s to more calm + bright this holiday season.
Also On Tap for Today:
- Wednesday workout with the Mama Beasts
- Thrilled to be included in Amanda’s The Importance of Giving Back series today: check out the post (+ a fabulous giveaway)
- Can I host a candle smelling party? This Yankee Candle Smell-Off from the Kitchn sounds amazing/hilarious (if not a tiny bit headache-inducing).
What words are you channeling this season? Please don’t say sweaty and weird.
