Goodbye 2010

December 31, 2010, last day of another old year. Every year I find myself in the same place, making so many of the same promises. Some I keep longer than others, rare is the promise that lasts through the next year.

I used to be pretty tough on myself about giving up, letting promises slide. Then I decided that it was ridiculous to make pie-in-the-sky promises, only to feel like a failure by February.

Nowadays I split my resolutions into groups. There are those promises that should be easy to keep- read more, weigh less, be more active. There are those promises that are harder to keep- be more organized, be kinder to myself, take better care of myself. Easy or hard, this is the time of year for promises made to yourself. The rest of the year is for keeping them.

So for this last night I will think of my promises and hope that I will be able to keep at least a few of them. Tomorrow will be the day that I have to start working on keeping them. Yep, that's the hard part.

Winter Solstice

Tonight is the longest night of the year, in a year that has been full of long nights for me. I feel like I have drifted through this year, half-asleep, half in a nightmare of poor health and unhappiness. Not the face I have shown most people, but the face I have seen when I look in the mirror.

This night I find myself contemplating the significance of a Winter Solstice, with a full moon and a total lunar eclipse. How can such a convergence be without impact? Can you not meditate on what it means when the longest night of the year becomes even darker, when the moon goes into total eclipse?

I guess I see this as a coming through a final darkness before I can shed this year of uncertainty and fear. I am tired of thinking about my health, wondering about my health, fighting with my health. I am tired of battling through. With my thyroid surgery behind me, I am looking forward to sitting through this final long night of 2010, before I can begin to see the days lengthening again. Perhaps my health and mental well being will follow, growing, lightening, and energizing as the days grow.

So, on this Winter Solstice, this longest night of the year, when the moon will be in our shadow, let me wait in the dark, contemplating the light. Let my tired, sick self be left behind in 2010 to be replaced with renewed health and energy for 2011. Let the lunar eclipse take away those things that wore me out this year. Let the dawn find me renewed and re-energized for the new year. Let my health restore as the moon will restore.

Let 2010 fade into my past, and 2011 bring happier things.

Back to School

The new school year has officially begun. Children everywhere are up and out early in the morning, heading for bus stops, schools, and classrooms. Bright and shining faces (and some sullen and grumpy ones) all head off for a new day and a new year. It is a time of year I have always enjoyed, even when I was in school myself.

We have decided to homeschool. This is not a reflection on our views of public school, not due to our religious orientation, nor is it a commentary on modern society (well, maybe a small comment). I have read about and been interested in homeschooling since long before I was a parent. In fact, I read my first book about it before I was married. I have always hoped that when the time came I would be able to give it a try.

So here I am, realizing a heart's desire and I find myself sad and a little jealous of my friends with kids heading off to school. I am looking at pictures of smiling children dressed in clean clothes, with bright eyes, skipping their way to the bus stop. Friends are telling me of how cheerfully their child climbed onto the bus for the ride to school. My stomach knots and I wish I could be there too.

In my reading about homeschooling I have come across a concept called de-schooling. It is the time a child will need to decompress and adjust to homeschooling after being in school. I have heard all kinds of guidelines on how long a child might need to make this adjustment. I didn't think I was going to need this time, since we have never been in school before. Perhaps I am wrong.

Even though I have always wanted to homeschool, I was sure it wouldn't be possible. I prepared myself for the moment when we would join in with that phase of parenting. You know- early mornings, packed lunches, school buses, PTA, parent conferences and the like. Maybe what I need is a little de-schooling. I need to adjust to the reality that my memories of the first year of school are going to be different.

Different is ok. Different fits for me and my family. I am just going to take a deep breath and trust in myself and my child. We are going to have a great year, full of great memories. We might not have cool Fall mornings drenched in sunshine standing at the bus stop. We also won't have freezing Winter mornings in the dark and the rain either. Everybody's choice will have good, bad and indifferent. I will have fabulous days when I am sure we are doing the right thing, and days when I doubt my sanity. I just need to keep reminding myself that I am not alone, and though my choice may be different, my experiences are very similar.

Homeschooling is right for us. At least it is right for us right now. I am going to take it one day at a time. I am ready to make great memories that are unique for our family. It is an adventure I am ready for.

Turn of the Season

Summer should still be in full swing. After all, we still have more than a month of it left (if only by a couple of days). However, don't we all feel on some level that Fall begins so much earlier in reality than it does on the calendar?

For me, there are indicators that trigger in me a deep and abiding desire for Fall. Stores get the back to school displays up, full of unsharpened pencils, uncapped pens, reams of blank notebooks, all fresh and waiting for the eager new scholars. grocery stores (and for my family only Acme carries the right kind) have towering displays of orange cookie boxes, all full of spiced wafers, redolent with fall spices and scents. Orchards and farm stand feature abundant displays of apples, pumpkins, corn stalks, and the like. Evenings get that flirty taste of cooler weather, and suddenly we no longer feel like we are going to burst into flame as we exit our homes. The summer season gets tired, faded, overblown and has overstayed its welcome.

Suddenly, I find I am tired of swimming, short sleeves, cold meals, and the scent of the ground baking in the hot sun. I am longing for blankets on the bed, crickets slowly chirping in the chilly night, fires in the fireplace, big pots of warm soup, candles scented with maple and cinnamon. I dream of putting away the summer decorations and adorning my home with fire-colored leaves, sunflowers, nuts, and frosted grapes. I want mugs of steaming cider, glasses of smokey scotch, warm flannel nightgowns, and thick cozy socks.

August is drifting away, September is looming before me. Only 14 days to the Arden Fair, a true indicator that things of Summer are ready to be put away, and Fall is ready to take the stage. I am ready to crack open those clean notebook pages, sharpen the pencils and get to the business of colder weather, home and hearth. The lazy days of summer are wearing on me, I am ready for the industry of harvest, the preparation for the cold days of winter. It is time to shake the sand from my toes, don my shoes and shuffle through crackling leaves.

I feel the turn of the season, even though when I walk outside it is unarguably still summer weather. I still plan the last minute trips to the beach, trying to bank up as much sun as I can. And yet, in my heart of hearts I am already longing for the change. I am ready to cozy down into my nest for the next phase of the year. Summer has been fun, longed for in the misery of last Winter, reveled over and enjoyed, but its time is over.

Funny, how it works that I am so ready for the next season. Fall will go so swiftly with its apple picking, Halloween preparations, Thanksgiving, leaf raking, bonfires, and hayrides. Will I be as ready for Winter?

Quiet Midnight

Here I sit, just after midnight. The house is quiet, all are asleep, except for me. For the last few nights I have found it impossible to fall asleep easily. So, here I sit.

There is a peace to the house this time of day. It feels good to know that those nearest and dearest to my heart are not far away, and are at peace themselves. The house has a feel to it, full but quiet that soothes me. While I would love to be slumbering away in my room, there is a pleasure to tapping away at my computer at the kitchen counter too.

I can remember how my mother would wake up long before the sun each day. I never understood why she would do it, when it only meant a nap in the afternoon and an early bedtime. Yet, each morning she would get up long before anyone else, make a pot of coffee, and read the paper. These nights give me a little insight into why those mornings were so needed for her. I can imagine the peace of the house, the way the sun would slowly brighten the sky, how the peace would be broken by our waking and the day beginning in earnest.

There is a little selfishness in my insomnia. While there are times when I find it a burden, and I fight it, there are times when it is an unique gift. When my days are filled with child, husband, house, family, church, village, bills, errands, cleaning, meals, and all the static of daily life, what a luxury to have a few quiet hours to myself. The knowledge that until it is time for me to go to bed I have nobody to please but myself is beyond value. Insomnia, my indulgence, my curse.

I think I may be ready to sleep now, morning comes so early. I have had my quiet moment of reflection, now I want to sleep. Tonight, will insomnia be my co-conspirator, or my foe? Only the dawn will tell......

Summertime

Ah Summer, the season of vacations, sun, sand, heat, humidity, loose schedules, and lingering days. In June it seemed to stretch before me, a long vista of peace. Now, I am too far into this game to believe that perception and I knew how fast it would go. However, each year I swear time speeds up and the wheel of the year is spinning out of control. This year is proving to be no different.

June slipped by so quickly I couldn't believe it when ACRA began at the end of the month. The simple act of going to ACRA each day made time speed up considerably and before I could blink, it was the end of July and the end of ACRA for this year.

Now, the last week of July is melting away and August yawns before me. I know that summer will slip through my fingers just like dry sand. I will frantically try to hold on to it, to fit as much as I can in my hands, only to have it disappear in the wind. I have so many things I want to do, so many places on my list to get to, so much more fun to fit in, but August is so painfully short.

Add to this the gaping of the coming school year (something I haven't truly dealt with before) and I have no idea how I am going to make August less of a swirl. I guess I just have to do my best, fill my hands with the fleeting moments and hang on for dear life.

In closing..... Dear Arden Fair (which always marks the end of Summer in our house), you could take your sweet time getting here. Enjoy your journey through August and let me do the same. Bliss out as the days continue to shorten (sob), and let the "lazy" happen in August as it did not happen in June and July. As much as I look forward to your arrival, I could truly do with a little extra Summer this year, how about you?

Flashbacks

This is my season for flashbacks. We are in our second week of ACRA and each year I have brought Connor, my experiences at ACRA all come flowing back.

Let's start by explaining ACRA, which stands for Arden Communmity Recreation Association. I live in one of the Ardens, and this group plans gatherings and parties throughout the year for community members to participate in. The big even each year is the 5 week summer camp which meets at he Buzz Ware Village Center, former home of the Arden School. This building and program has been a part of my life for more years than I care to admit.

I went to ACRA when I was little, sometimes loving it, sometimes hating it, overall remembering it with fondness and appreciation that it was a part of my growing up years. I count it among the things that helped me to survive and thrive in a none to healthy family environment. ACRA gave me a place to be myself, a place to connect with my peers and their families, and a place that was safe and encouraging. My mother never understood my love of theater, ACRA reveled in it. I confused my family with my hippy leanings, ACRA found it normal.

When I had Connor, I could hardly wait to share ACRA with him. I imagined all the fun he would have, al the good memories he would make. I looked forward to watching him make those neighborhood connections that could last the rest of his life. Little did I know that Connor would not necessarily have an easy transition to ACRA.

Yep, my little monkey doesn't want to stay here without me. I have worked and worked on this and it just doesn't change. So I attend ACRA with him. The first year I never left the classroom, the second I graduated to sitting outside, which is what I am doing on this, his third year. It's slightly a drag, but it does allow for wonderful moments.

I love sitting on my picnic blanket watching the kids file in to ACRA. It could be the 1970s and all my friends are walking by, restored to youth. The images are timeless- long, lean bodies, chlorine bleached and still wet from swim team, towels slung around necks, barefeet, bikes, and smiling faces. The building fills with their voices, calling to each other, talking about the same crazy things we talked about (though peppered with more modern pop culture references of course). There are kids on the playground, playing Capture the Flag, swinging on the swings, climbing to the top of the jungle gym, and leaping the concrete pipes- all the things we all loved to do at their age. Best of all is when a gang of girls gather to lounge in the warm sun on top of the concrete pipes- it could so easily be me, Kirsten, Michelle, Annie.....

ACRA is a grand thing and I am so glad it is here for my son, like it was here for me. I hope it is here for my grandchildren and on down the generations as long as the Ardens are here, I hope there is ACRA so that we can all have these flashback moments.