Christmas 2007

My mother arrived for the holidays.

On Christmas morning, Gavin was excited by the stockings when I turned on the tree. He had to pull up the feet on his slightly too-big Christmas footie pajamas so he could get to them. We tore open our gifts, we made a huge mess, we put on fancy aprons and made eggs Benedict, we piled on the couch and cheered for Gavin while he attacked virtual bad guys with his electronic light saber. The man brought over his cat to terrorize Po the Porkchop. Neither of the cats appreciated the stinky dehydrated shrimp treats Santa brought them. In the evening we ate roast beef, lamb, Yorkshire pudding, artichokes, carrots and potatoes, baked apples and rhubarb pie. We toasted with wine and sparkling blueberry juice, clinking each time Gavin cried, "To Santa! To Christmas! Cheers!"

Good holiday. Made it through another one.

2007 fades out

Another year. I've been looking back at my pictures since last November and realized that my smile doesn't reach my eyes in any of them. I spent a lot of time this year keeping busy, trying not to be alone in my head, trying not to look sad. As a kid, when I imagined this sort of thing, I thought it would be like a sad romantic movie, where the heartbroken woman stares out windows and withdraws from everyone. It didn't happen that way. I turned into a live nerve ending, instead. I tried to escape myself, grasping at anything to make it stop. I kept myself distracted enough that it only caught up with me in the moments I was alone; driving in the car, late after bedtime, the long nights Gavin was away. Eventually I got tired and gave up, let it catch me, and that's when I finally went numb, grieving the wasted years and the lies and love I thought I had. Day to day life is okay, I work with wonderful people. But I'm just moving on, going through the motions of the Rest of my Life and hoping I feel it again someday. I need to, considering where things are headed these days.

Time wounds all heels.

Five

Gavin walked out of the bedroom and went sleepily to the advent calendar to pull out the candy for number 16. "Happy Birthday, baby boy!" I yelled, putting down my book. He climbed under the couch blanket with me to lay beside the Christmas tree. "I'm FIVE, mom!" "I know! You're huge! What do you want to do today?" "Umm... you know, I always play on the computer when I turn five."

And so the boy played Lego Star Wars while I made banana pancakes shaped like teddy bears. When the sun was up, we stuffed into the car with his dad and went to the toy store for toppers for his cake, then took in a matinee of Alvin and the Chipmunks before returning home for foods and presents. Mike and I ate the leftovers of our traditional pre-birthday Thai takeout while Gavin ate pizza. I jammed Luke Skywalker up to his knees in the top of Gavin's cake, set R-2 by his side, and lit five candles around them. Gavin blew them out and opened his presents, carefully pulling off bows and trying not to tear the paper. He thanked the people who weren't there for his presents.

Love him.

Conquering Heroes

The garden center at Target was close to closing when we showed up looking for a tree last night. Our Christmas boxes disappeared in the move, resting somewhere in the Land of Things Put in Safe Places, so we picked up a few boxes of ornaments and lights. I gravitated toward the smaller trees. Mike made a sad face.  "Okay," I compromised, "How about one my height, then?" "How about one my height?" he said. "It would be your height once it was in the stand," I said. He shook a big tree gently by the trunk, waving the branches to tempt me. It worked on Gavin. "Mom, can we get one that goes all the way up to the ceiling?" I was outnumbered.

And so an hour later we were home, Mike's legs sticking out from beneath a huge tree that swallowed up my entire living room. The top bobbled while he wrestled it onto the stand. The cat ran under the bed. Gavin watched. "Is it supposed to be crooked, dad?" "No." "Well it is." "Thank you." "You're welcome." By the time the tree was up it was past 10pm, so we left it naked, brushed our teeth, read a book, and said goodbye to dad for the night.

In the morning I sat knitting, listening to A Breath of Snow and Ashes on cd, when Gavin stumbled out of the bedroom. Po (now dubbed "Fat Fat Porkchop") meowed for treats, and he gave her some in the kitchen. "Wow, mom," he said, climbing onto my lap atop my knitting, "I was listening all night for the tree to fall over, and it's still up!" "Amazing!"

Gavin helped me string lights until his dad arrived, shivering from the cold. We ripped open our packages of new ornaments like early presents and covered the poor tree in sugared pine cones, snowflakes, and plastic icicles. We patted ourselves on the back for general fantasticness and opened the traditional box of tree chocolates while Gavin pulled out the first day of his advent calendar.

And after all this - do I get to stay at home baking cookies and listening to sappy holiday music with the boys? No. I am at work, typing on my lunch break with a cup of decaf tea, after dealing with grouchy patrons all morning. The Christmas Spirit is upon us again, like wolves at our throats.

But the tree is up, the presents are stashed, the cocoa is well stocked, and I am feeling kind of happy.