Monday, February 18, 2013

Not Even Gonna Try

Well, I've gone far too long without a post to play catch-up at this point. Onward!

At the roll-around of a new year, there have been many... emotions on my mind. We had a tough Christmas this time around--Lovely, but tough. Nothing life-shattering, or even life-altering; but there was plenty of stress to go around! The funny thing was that the stress all came from blessings--good things we were grateful for, but that stressed us out all the same:

-Job-program graduations and subsequent promotions
-Baby surgeries
-Book-writing deadlines

These all hit us in December, and while some things we coped with just as easy as pie (Haakon's in-and-out surgery was a breeze, really), other things kept us up till 3 and 4 in the a.m. And then some things kept my husband up even longer--nights of insomnia. He has yet to find some really spectacular coping mechanisms. :)

But it was also my favorite time of the year--even despite all the hectic-ness. So while we worried and worked and stressed and fretted, we savored and loved and planned and enjoyed. It was really quite a delicious juxtaposition, and I'm glad for it. Truly! Because with the worry came the constant reminders of goodness around me, and that was something splendid to behold during Christmastime.

And now we are well into the new year. And life is less stressful... in some ways. The hubby still frets about his new and unfamiliar position, with all the new responsibilities that entails. But he also sleeps deeply at night. I'm still writing books with overwhelming deadlines, but it brings in extra checks that make my favorite little home projects attainable. And my kids drive me nuts on a daily basis in this frigid winter wasteland, where there is no outside escape for any of us. But they exude cleverness that catches me laughing at every turn.

And I love this (sometimes stressful) life!

At the close and opening of another year, I am still so deeply satisfied with what I have that I really feel that everyone else doesn't have it nearly as lucky, and that's a shame (don't you love that self-centeredness? Sorry, but I can't do a thing about it. I live in bliss).

I love my husband. I love that he is my Neverland, my Fantasia, my New York City and my Ocean. He is all the adventures I can imagine, and he makes all my days a novel's happy ending. He still wants me powerfully, after 6 years and 30 pounds. He is my sounding board and my Jiminy Cricket. He is the sexiest man alive, and he understands and cares about my ranting madness. He loves me. Loves me in a way I have never felt but with him; loves me in a way that leaves me breathless; loves me in a way that makes me confident that I could conquer kingdoms and worlds. Man, I love this man! Fiercely, jealously, unabashedly, LOVE this man!

I love my little chickens, my monsters, my mad whirling dervishes! They are the reason for my white hairs and my laugh wrinkles both. They are a panoply of emotion--from hour to hour. They have quick minds and quick wit. Coren's giggle shakes down mountains. Risa's grin melts butter palaces, and Haakon's hands never stop moving! They are precious and savage all in a heartbeat. My chickens! They are wild mysteries that cannot be tamed (not for a lack of intense amounts of trying). They feel music. They quote movies. They ask endless questions and make endless demands. If I survive them--if they survive me--they truly will be my crowning glory in life, these chickens that I cannot hope to understand, but that have become my pumping heart and running veins; I could not live without them, Wonderland-mad and all!

And so I love this life! Please don't give me another. Here I am happy, and here I wish to stay... Bring the sleepless nights; I will take them.