I'm still here!

We made it. The boys are now officially out of school for their Christmas break. We did the classroom Christmas parties, I purchased my last gift purchase today, and three out of the four are in bed. 

Let the vacation begin! 

Well, not really, but I am looking forward to not having to cart anyone back and forth at 8:30 in the morning. And having Mike around. And baking lots of yummy treats. And cuddling. If there's one thing we've been short on, it's the cuddling time. I've had to send at least 2 out of the 4 to school without their cuddle time. There are not enough hours between 6:30am and 8:30am to get all our cuddling in! Not if they want breakfast anyway. 

Speaking of which, I started the morning off by burning the only two bagels I had left in the house. Someone had turned the toaster settings up to five, instead of their customary two, and before I knew it: black crusts for breakfast. Before that, I had spilled all the coffee grounds everywhere except the garbage. I was still vacuuming them out of the potato basket at lunchtime. 

But the day got better with Cole's classroom holiday party with their graham cracker gingerbread houses. That was fun. Ben overdosed a bit with the candy canes, but overall, it's been a really pleasant day. Pizza and a holiday movie or two. Chocolate advent calendars. 

I love Christmas break!

#2's first day of Kindergarten: in a poem

moment of truth
he takes it well
this moment of inevitable separation
this stutter-step stalling into boy hood
he takes off feet first
moving faster than the ground beneath him
his steps buckle
but hold
he is a boy who knows what he wants
even if he doesn't know what that means yet
doesn't know how rare that is

to meet change with such open armed acceptance

and this is the point 

where the path diverges

where i will know his story only second hand

Where he becomes less of me 

And more of himself

Less of what I thought I saw 

In the grainy light of ultrasound

Less the imprint of fingertips 

On windowpanes or clay 

More a name grown into itself

The prickly rose

Grown past my pruning

Reaching past my locked doors

To touch sky and stars and sun

He will travel the night

Without me 

See things and weave stories

I had only imagined in dreams

He will live for himself 

And never for me

I will reflect the colors of sunset and summer thunder

And touch sun and stars and sky 

Guardian to his memories 

In picture books and ripped green thermal blankies

And he will remember love as his beginning 

His ending 

And bridge in between