The problem with savings.

I thought I set up the auto-post for this to go up in January, but I guess it didn't. Here it is now.

So we've been saving up for our family reunion this summer. I was really proud of myself for thinking ahead and figuring out how much to save each month and actually doing it. I loved watching that account grow, knowing we wouldn't use credit or debt for the trip.

Then it came time to pay for the reservations. I was able to pay in full, which was very satisfying.

But now that account is empty. It makes me sad to look that $28 balance. The account's not dead; we're still saving for future vacations. We hope to take another small trip this summer and maybe a bigger trip in 2018.

I finally understand that old saying about having cake. Maybe I just need to save twice as much so I can eat half the cake and still have some. I'll have to work on that...

This Kid.

Here are a few things I want to remember about Atticus.

• We bought some dolls and toys around Christmas to donate to the homeless shelter, and Atticus liked the baby dolls enough that he made one for himself. He named it Joe. Atticus has grown attached to our neighbor, who is named Joe. And apparently there's a Joe in the show he's currently watching, so baby Joe it is. He's lying on a blanket.
• 
• He's currently afraid of elevators. And ghosts. And public bathrooms. But he's no longer afraid of the characters from the video game Five Nights at Freddy's, which he's never actually played or watched anyone play. But the logo and the licensed apparel he's seen at school were apparently enough. He will go on the biggest, scariest roller coasters and have no problem watching orcs and alien monsters in movies, but whatever you do, don't make him get into an elevator. Or watch a clip from A Christmas Carol. *sigh*
• We were cleaning his room Friday when he mentioned that he wanted to create a little library/reading nook under his loft bed. I thought it was a great idea, so we went to IKEA on Saturday and got him a bookshelf and repurposed a lamp, and he's got a cozy little spot under there now. As we were brushing our teeth he asked, "Why did you get me that shelf?" He'd asked me that about three times already, so I told him again that I just liked his idea. Should I NOT have gotten him the shelf? And he said, "No, I just didn't think it would ever actually come true." Yep, son, sometimes you DO get what you want.
• James and I went to the temple Friday, and Atticus went to hang out with my visiting teacher and her 14-year-old son. On the way to the door, Atticus said, "I don't want you to leave." Me: "Why not? You'll have a great time here." Him: "I'm afraid you won't come back." Me: "Atticus, we're just going to the temple. I will always come home to you." Him: "But maybe there will be a shooting at the temple." Me: "If I have to crawl on my hands and knees, I will come home to you." *smiles* (He had so much fun, it was hard to get him to leave.)
• Saturday night we went to a blues/jazz performance by 97-year-old local legend Joe McQueen and his band. (It was fantastic.) Atticus wasn't thrilled about it until he heard the words "refreshments booth." During the second number James gave him some cash and sent him for snacks. He came back with a Sprite and a Twix and was happy for the rest of the show. Or at least most of the show. We left before it was over, and he fell asleep in the car on the way home.
• He was so tired because he didn't get to bed until 10 the night before. Then he came into our room at 6:00 in the morning, wearing his Link costume. We told him to go back to bed, and he said he'd woken up at 5:00 and had already been waiting FOREVER before coming in. Duuuude. Get some sleep. 
• While I was taking a nap on Sunday, Atticus decided to create a restaurant called "Home Servis Inn." I woke up to a boy in a sweater vest and a dishtowel belted around his waist for an apron. He had a name tag and handed me a menu of snacks I could order (I went for the "walnut yum yums" and a glass of water). He was very professional about it. We had a very simple dinner planned, so I decided to extend the game by letting him serve us dinner in his restaurant. I talked him through reheating everything, then placed my order at the hosting counter. He seated us when it was ready. We had placemats and nice glasses and artistically arranged veggies. And he insisted that he had to eat after we were done because he's the server.

I just realized that most of this occurred in one weekend. That's my boy. I love this kid.

Christmas Report

We had a cozy Christmas. Here are a few highlights and photos:

FAMILY
James's Aunt Connie invited us to her family Christmas party. Connie is Tom's oldest sister, and she is the only extended family member to come to our wedding (she also lived the closest, in Paris, Idaho). We reconnected with her a couple years ago when we were invited to her 80th birthday party. Her husband was in the Air Force, so somehow most of her kids and grandkids settled in Utah near Hill AFB. When her health started failing, she came to live with her daughter Mary. We had no idea they all lived so close.

Atticus always looks forward to hanging out with Max at these gatherings. Max is Atticus's second cousin once removed. Max's grandfather is James's cousin. To make sense of the relationship,  I had to put it in Poulson terms: it's the same as if Mike's daughter Aubrey and her kids were invited to the Langston family party. The age gap between Aubrey and Tyler is about the same as the difference between James and Max's grandpa. Kinda blows my mind, but to Atticus, he's just a kid to play with.

Speaking of Mike and Aubrey, we spent Christmas Eve with their family. Of course I didn't take any pictures, but I did get a picture of the bûche de Noël I made:

It's grain free and low carb, from this recipe (I didn't add the coffee and orange flavoring). I thought it was pretty good, but James deemed it "passable." Henry (who's diabetic) said it tasted "too healthy" and went for the peppermint brownies I brought instead. The chocolate ganache was pretty dark, which made it less appealing to kids. Hence the brownies.

We had a great time. My sister Erin was also there, which always is a treat. Dinner was delicious, and I brought some "minute to win it" games to play after dinner while Mike and Raylyn cleaned up. We did the Oreo-on-your-face one, the "draw a picture on your head" one, and the "knock down the cans with the ornament tied to your butt" one. Afterward we watched a video Raylyn used at a Relief Society gathering that compares Jacob Marley's chains to the chains we all carry in life and how Christ offers us freedom from those chains. Atticus freaked out about Marley's ghost, but we survived. Mike read the Christmas story from Luke, and we all got to write down our gift for Jesus this year. They keep all the cards in a box so they can reminisce about past years and see how they did. I'm totally borrowing that tradition for next year. Then we exchanged gifts, gave hugs, and headed home.

CHRISTMAS DAY

It was raining, maybe just barely snowing, when we got home, and when we woke up Christmas morning, what to my wondering eyes should appear but a beautiful blanket of snow.

I couldn't stop looking. It was beautiful and quiet and so peaceful. 

A neighbor ran his snowblower down the sidewalk for most of the block, 

for which we were very grateful.

It's not Christmas without Legos and a puzzle. The kitty is Pookie, and it was the runaway hit of the year. The Boy's a bit obsessed with cats these days. It was something he didn't ask for but that I knew he'd love. I even made a bed and blankie for her. James also surprised him with a cat calendar that happened to come with a mini kitten calendar. Total WIN.

After presents and breakfast, James and Atticus attacked the snow.

We got a record 9 inches. The accumulation on our driveway was deeper than that. James swears it was two feet, but that might be a bit of an exaggeration based on what it felt like he was moving.

 James is wearing his Chthulu/barbarian balaclava I got him for Christmas. 

Atticus is rocking that snow angel.

This is a happy boy.

I came out for a while to keep them company, and we got talking with our neighbor Joe, who was also digging himself out. It was a fun way to celebrate. I came inside to make cocoa and rub garlic and herbs over our dinner roast. After everyone came in and got warm and cleaned up, we went to church. It was a beautiful addition to our Christmas celebrations. It helped that church started at 1:00, so it hit right at the time that we would normally get restless and bored. Came home to a nice dinner, Skyped with family, then settled in for our Lord of the Rings marathon.

I couldn't have asked for more.

A Charitable Christmas

Ever since Atticus got old enough to get excited about presents, I've struggled with how to make Christmas more about giving than receiving. I come up with great ideas in the summer, but once November hits, between end-of-year work escalation and holiday crafting and (often) getting sick, it falls to the wayside.

But this year everything fell into just the right place. The Church's "Light the World" campaign got us thinking about service, and Atticus found little ways to help. He asked to give a dollar to a homeless person and looked forward to putting money in the Salvation Army bucket at the grocery store. My visiting teacher gave us a little manger and straw, where you add straw for every act of service. Atticus wrote notes and left secret gifts for me and James just so he could add some straw.

Plus, our gift requests were inexpensive this year, so we had extra funds in the Christmas savings account. Rather than roll it into next year or to another account (so tempting!), I decided to use it to serve. We made donations to the food bank and the homeless shelter, but I wanted something more tangible as well. So I looked up the list of most-needed items at the shelter and went shopping. Walking out of the store with a cart full of stuff I knew people actually needed, I felt giddier than I had all season. Later we took Atticus to Wal-Mart to pick out toys to donate. He got in the spirit and never once asked for anything for himself. Then we took everything to the shelter. It was fun.

I've decided to make this an annual tradition. When Atticus is older we can help serve meals and interact more with the people we're serving, but for now this is good. And I'd like to do more for our neighbors and friends. And for years I've been wanting to fill shoeboxes for Operation Christmas Child, but you have to drop them off before Thanksgiving, so it's not on my radar soon enough. I made a note in my planner to order the shoeboxes in July, so maybe it will happen this year. And Atticus is old enough now to help without getting greedy (man, does that kid love STUFF).

I'm getting excited about the possibilities. And that's the most fun of all.

Successes

Atticus has figured out cartwheels!

Atticus has been working on his cartwheel for more than a year, with little success. He would try and try and end up in a heap on the floor every time. Then we started him in gymnastics in September, and I honestly didn't see any progress during class. And then the other day he does this. I was so excited for him! He GOT it!! And he was pretty proud of himself, as well.

Then the next day, I rode a bike for the first time since my surgery. I was just going to try out the bike and see how it went, but it felt so good that I had Atticus get his scooter and we went a couple miles up the Jordan River Trail. The weather was beautiful, and it was so nice to be out, just him and me. I was sore for a couple days, both ankle and thighs, but it was worth it. 

I'm walking without a brace now. I still have a bit of a limp, and my left leg is still significantly weaker than my right, but I'm making progress. I have to remind myself that slow progress is still progress. And if I'm not strong enough to hike the trails next spring, that just means more time for biking.

I'm not the mother I thought I'd be.

A recently-divorced friend told me the other day that she is experiencing mom-related insecurity for the first time ever, feeling threatened and resentful of friends who seem to be doing it better than she is. She never had it, or at least not in the same way, before she was divorced.

Part of me was shocked that she hasn't felt it before now--hasn't every mother felt that from her child's infancy? And then I thought back to my own feelings about motherhood. My style of motherhood in particular.

Before children, and even before marriage, I knew I wanted to be a mother, and I knew what kind of mother I wanted to be. I wanted to be a lot like my sister Susan: she is completely devoted to her children. She doesn't work outside the home; she plans and cooks healthy, varied meals; she has chickens and a big garden and makes strawberry jam and even bakes bread sometimes.

We are also very different--where she is more scientific minded and carefully monitors her children's development (in a very good way, mind you), I wanted to be more artistic and free-spirited. I wanted to dig mud pits and build forts and do big messy art projects. I wanted to sew clothes and knit and spin and weave and maybe one day start a goat dairy. I wanted to mother like Amanda Soule from the Soule Mama blog (minus the homeschooling--you have to draw the line somewhere).

I am not that kind of mother.

I work away from home 20-30 hours per week, and I love it. I absolutely love my job (in general--not always day-to-day). As a writer for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, I get to use and expand my talents in a very real, satisfying way. I have an opportunity to study and teach principles that can change lives for the better, including my own. I get to work with some very creative and spiritually-minded people, and even though we don't always agree, we do great work together.

I used to love to cook, but now dinner is a chore. We eat out more than we should. I have a hard time keeping up with the clutter. I am immensely blessed to have a husband who does the laundry and the dishes and cleans the bathroom regularly.

I don't go to PTA meetings or volunteer in the community. My home is not a gathering place for neighborhood children (the only kids on our block are too young to cross the street by themselves, so we're off the hook for now...). I only kind of know my neighbors.

This reality used to get me down sometimes. I would see other moms who appear to have it all together, who find fulfillment and joy in at-home parenting, and I'd feel a twinge of guilt. My heart is supposed to be at home, right? That is where I'm supposed to focus all my energies, right?

But then I think of my son, and the relationship we have and the relationship we're building. The questions he asks me and how we talk to each other when it's just the two of us. How he sits close to me on the couch when I'm knitting or stitching. How he leans on me when I read to him. How happy he is when I help in his classroom once a week. How we're working on that delicate balance of boundaries and trust and how my heart swells when it clicks. I think of all the things I want to show him and experience with him and learn from him and teach him.

And I realize, I'm not the mother I thought I'd be, but I'm pretty happy with the mother I am.

Bleah.

So I just experienced my first mammogram. And even though the people were nice and it wasn't painful, afterward I still just wanted to curl up in bed with a bowl of ice cream and cry.

I haven't done any of those things yet, but I am at home in my comfy pants, contemplating the ice cream in the freezer. Maybe I should have lunch first...

Anyway, all I can say is if men had to undergo the same procedure for testicular cancer, they would have come up with a better imaging method by now.

Here's to more women in medical technology!