Breathing in, Breathing out

It's been a whirlwind of a holiday, like it always is. I finished work, and thought that I'd have a small space of time, carved out, for me. An hour of one's own, so to speak, and there just wasn't enough there. We're a family of four, there's just always so much to do. I shopped, I planned, I baked, I cleaned, I wrapped and then I packed at at 9am on Boxing Day we were all loaded in the car, on our way to the grandparents. (By the skin of our teeth, given we'd found the car with a dead battery at 8:45am. But that's a whole 'nother story.)

Christmas was nice. It was very nice. Despite the first wake up call at 5:40, we did stay in bed until 7am. Stockings were unpacked, breakfast was eaten, and presents were unwrapped to the delight of the five year old, and the delight (and confusion) of the 20 month old. It's getting harder to buy The Boy things -- the brain of a nine year old and the body / maturity of a five year old makes it tough. Books are pretty easy, and we got a few of those. But the electronics set from his grandparents is fantastic for his brain, but not so much for his sense of being careful and his dexterity; the game his dad bought is great for the two of them but not one The Boy can play with his friends when they come by.

(Embarrassing moment for me: we had a friend of The Boy's around on Christmas Eve, and he came into the living room to admire the hanging stockings, and then asked which one was The Boy's .. and I said, with some surprise in my voice, "Well, the one with his NAME on it ... " without remembering that not all five year olds can read, you idiot and I felt like a nasty nasty woman.)

The Girl received a new baby! And a baby bed! and a baby stroller! But while those were all very favourably received (the stroller especially), the biggest hit of the season was the tiny stuffed Elmo that I found as a last minute stocking stuffer, thinking, Oh, How cute this will look at the top of the stocking, it's like $5 and it'll be about $5 worth of fun (i.e. an hour or two). But oh NO! The red muppet now goes everywhere, and we have to refer to him as such when he's not in the room so she doesn't go completely nuts wanting him.

We spent four days with my parents in Hometown. Hometown is a place where I lived for 24 years, and the last six I spent fervently wishing I wasn't. As soon as I was able, I left, and I didn't look back. Over the past five years, I've grown to appreciate Hometown a fair amount, but this trip I realized I really, really MISS it. And I wish I could move back. I've thought over the past five years that it would be a great place to live, but not for me; now I just look at the houses and wish I could move right in, and drive to this place and that place with more regularity. Mostly I just wish I could see my parents more often, for less time. A dinner here and there, an afternoon at the pool. You know. It would make parenting just a whole lot less burdensome and much more fun. And I miss them, too.

I came home with the kids last night, alone -- The Man having gone to visit a friend -- in the pelting rain and fog, driving along highways with large semis that doused the windshield with rain each time they passed. I drove fervently wishing The Girl would stay awake for the 45 minutes past her bedtime we drove in the dark. We got home to a cold house, anxious cats, and I put the children to bed and tried to breathe, to sit and be still for once, after the chaos of Christmas prep and travel and relations and presents and children who have eaten too many cookies and not much else.

This morning dawned far too early, and I took the kids to care, came home. The house was messy. But quiet. I cleaned. I tidied. And I'm sitting.

Finally.

With time to think.

2011 was an interesting year. I started it on maternity leave. My son turned five. I went back to work, my daughter turned one. My son went to kindergarten. It's been a year of big changes and messing up of old routines and attemptings to settle into new ones. Upheaval. Some of it good, in the end. Some of it not so much.

I don't put much stock in New Year's resolutions. But I'd like to think that 2012 will be the year that things get smoother. That we finally find a way to move forward -- personally. Professionally. Financially. The kids are settled into their places, one in school and one in care, and now I want to take a breath, a moment, and look at where I want to be in five years, and figure out how to get there. To remember that I can take it slowly, but that planning and thinking, wishing, and making big dreams is all worthwhile.

Will we get there? Maybe not. But I want 2012 to be the year that I think Yeah. Maybe that. The year that I take a moment to breathe, to think, to reflect, and to march onwards to better things.