The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly Revisited

April 19, 2016 / Still Chasing Fireflies / 5 Comments

good bad ugly 2

Hey, Y’all! This week, Still Chasing Fireflies is celebrating its FIRST BIRTHDAY! That’s right . . . my baby is turning ONE! (And, yes, I am still working on losing the baby weight, but that’s okay because I have more realistic expectations than those celeb moms.) The year has been an emotional roller coaster that ranks right up there with other important personal milestones like the year that I said “I do” and the two most incredible years when our family grew first by one son and then another. It has been wonderful! Watch for a full recap of Still Chasing Fireflies’ first year in the next few days, but first I thought we should revisit the FIRST BLOG POST that I ever shared, which was never even posted here on Still Chasing Fireflies. It was originally shared on The Today Show Parenting Team blog, when that blog was just a newborn, too. Enjoy! Here goes . . .

My ugly parenting days were accidental at one point but have become more deliberate as my boys grow up. I have become more accepting, even proud, of the moments of parenting that aren’t so pretty. Why? Because when I reflect on my own experiences, I have learned a lot more from the ugly than from the beautiful. Because I see children every day enjoying seemingly idyllic childhoods while the toolboxes that they will need to be equipped for adulthood sit forgotten and empty. (Their scrapbooks, however, will be AMAZING, and that does make me a bit jealous.)

The reality is that we aren’t raising children here, friends. We are raising men at our house. Men who will be fathers and husbands. Men who will be your co-workers and your neighbors. And, although we don’t like to think about it, we know that our children will face heartbreaking challenges in life – because we all do at some point. The reality is that all of us parents are raising adults who will need to have the emotional and critical thinking tools to handle difficult situations with grace and, hopefully, come out stronger on the other side. But many of us are working double time to prevent our children from having the very experiences that will prepare them for adversity later. I, for one, am tired of working so hard to create a force field around my children while still feeling like my efforts never quite stack up to the efforts of my neighbors . . . or my Facebook friends . . . or the characters (because there really is no reality) on the television.

The truth is that good parenting isn’t always beautiful. Every day cannot be a parade with my child as the grand marshal. Children need to experience discomfort – loss, disappointment, pain, sadness, and frustration – to grow. We aren’t doing our children any favors when we don’t let life happen to them. We aren’t helping them succeed when we create an illusion (because it is always an illusion) of perfection. We aren’t doing right by them when we intervene every time they encounter a normal life challenge. And what kind of messed up kids are we raising if they never see that mistakes and weeds and failure and messy houses are just a part of REAL LIFE?

There’s a good chance that parenting that looks beautiful will create adults with ugly attitudes; I’m banking on the idea that the ugly side of parenting will pay off in beautiful outcomes, while also saving me some grief and, hopefully, taking me out of the competition. Enough with the myth that every day should be sunshine and rainbows, and that if, God forbid, it should rain on my child’s parade, I should sweep in to create an artificial happiness with sweet treats, unwarranted praise, and meaningless (and often expensive) activities. Enough with the idea that a child who has not tried EVERY sport and hobby has probably been robbed of all future joy. Enough of the fear that if we don’t entertain a child 24/7 then we have failed at parenting on an epic scale. It’s time to get real.

“No, I am not doing this assignment for you. Lucky for me, I graduated from third grade a few years ago.”

“Yes, I do find cleaning up dog poop to be disgusting. But if you love the dog, you scoop the poop.”

“No, I am not buying you the shirt that says that you are the best basketball player ever. If an adult wore a shirt that said “BEST THING EVER,” everyone would assume he is a jerk. And he probably is.”

“Yes, I do realize that your brother got a donut at school today, and you did not. No, we are not running to Tim Horton’s to make it right. I am feeling confident that you will survive. But if your vitals start to fade, we will make a trip to the ER.”

“No, you cannot quit because you are frustrated. You made a commitment, and quitting is not an option. Your dad and I are still married. Consider this an excellent example of perseverance.”

“Yes, I do have enough money to buy that, but I will never ever EVER spend that much money on a t-shirt. No, not even if we win the lottery.”

“No, I don’t enjoy grocery shopping either, but it is necessary for our survival, and if we had lived a hundred years ago, you would be hunting right now. Be grateful.”

“Yes, I know that some kids your age play video games rated Mature. Unfortunately, you came from this womb, and it’s not happening.”

Don’t get me wrong; we love our boys dearly, and we work hard to foster close relationships and to establish a home that provides a soft place to fall. But I am trying hard to escape the parenting rat race by reminding myself that we are not here to protect them from reality but to support them as they actually face it. Life is not perfect. Children are not perfect. Parents are not perfect. It’s okay if our family doesn’t look perfect, because it isn’t. But maybe, just maybe, allowing our kids to face the ugly realities of life will yield some beautiful results.

Don’t forget to watch for that birthday recap coming soon! While you wait, I want you to think about two things:

What was your favorite post of the first year?

Do YOU have a personal story that you want to share with the Still Chasing Fireflies community, too?

Hold that thought! We will have a fantastic conversation when the recap is posted! As always, thank you for reading and supporting this community!

How to Party Like It’s 1985

March 29, 2016March 29, 2016 / Still Chasing Fireflies / 2 Comments

The year was 1981.

Ronald Reagan was President.

MTV had just been born, and so had Justin Timberlake.

The cool kids were playing Frogger at the arcade while their parents critiqued the 25-foot train on Princess Diana’s wedding gown.

Raiders of the Lost Arc was a box office hit, and Harrison Ford was a heartthrob.

Sunscreen and seatbelts were still underrated.

And these two cuties were in kindergarten.

Now fast forward your VCR to 2016. (Let me give you a minute. Your VCR was slower than you probably remember.) A few things have changed since 1981. No one is pegging denim anymore, maybe because the jeans are too “skinny” these days. Dark wash is cooler than acid wash now, and we aren’t all choking on AquaNet fumes anymore.

And those two kindergarteners? Well, we’re turning 40, which is basically impossible, unless we fell into a time warp somewhere between our high school graduation in 1994 and today. Otherwise, I just can’t explain how this happened.

This is a big year for my husband and me; we both turn 40, which is some kind of milestone in American culture, I guess, and we will celebrate our 100^th wedding anniversary in June. I say 100^th anniversary because I like to measure marital bliss in “Hollywood years,” which means that every year of marriage is worth seven or eight, and also because on a bad day it sometimes feels like it’s actually been that long. (I can say this because we have mostly good days – and because I know there are days when he would agree!) In calendar years, though, we will celebrate our 15^th wedding anniversary this summer. But, again, with that time warp we hit somewhere in the 90’s, I’m not sure how long it has actually been. Maybe only four.

A few years ago, in a dreamy state disconnected from reality, I had hoped that we could do something really exciting to celebrate these occasions, like go on our first cruise or vacation in Mexico. But my husband is so kind that he encourages me, the brainiac who was supposed to be highly successful in something that pays well, to follow my passions, like devoting hours to writing a blog that pays in only personal growth and satisfaction. And since resorts in Mexico will not accept this as payment, I needed to find a less expensive way to celebrate his birthday. (Note to self: Maybe stop blogging about the 80s and start writing travel reviews instead . . . Cha ching!)

Seriously, though, I did want to make his 40^th memorable while keeping affordable, too. I started tossing around ideas, plans for a big party with all of our hometown friends and family and all of our friends nearby, and, frankly, it started to feel a bit overwhelming and not so low cost anymore. I also realized that I was planning the party that I thought he should have, but not necessarily the party that my husband would actually want, so I decided to nix the element of surprise and just ask him. The answer was not shocking since we have been married for 100 years. He said, “Keep it small. Really small.”

And I said, “THANK GOD!” under my breath as I exited the room. Thank. You. Jesus. Because small is much, much, much, much easier to do.

But let’s be clear; small doesn’t have to mean boring, and 40 doesn’t have to mean decorations that say “Rest In Peace.” (Seriously? Who is comfortable with that?) And that takes us back to the 80s, because even though we were both born in 1976, that decade is a blur of diapers and formula for us. But the 80s, well, EVERYONE born in 1976 remembers “Livin’ on a Prayer,” right? Ferris Beuller’s Day Off? Knight Rider? Of course, they do!

Thus, our 80s party was born. The ideas that we used were super simple, and we suggest that you modify them to fit your needs and throw an 80s party yourself, just for fun!

First, we needed an 80s atmosphere with fun decorations and bright colors. As always, we were extremely busy, so I opted to buy some 80s décor from Party City rather than figure everything out on my own. The prices were reasonable, and a little went a long way. We also scoured the house and some boxes in the basement to find anything with an 80s vibe. Movies, music, toys, cassette and VHS tapes, vintage t-shirts, old pictures – anything from the time period will add to the fun!

If you are throwing a birthday party, don’t forget some pics of the guest of honor! The 80s clothes and hairstyles captured in those moments will provide plenty of entertainment for your guests, too.

You can also use some of the party supplies or favors to create focal points that become decorations themselves, like these glasses from Party City that we gave to the kids.

Or these white gloves from Walmart, purchased for less than 25 cents a pair at the end of the season. Michael Jackson was my FAVORITE back in the day, as proven by the creepy Michael Jackson doll my mom just found in the back of a closet. (If you are even thinking about having an 80s party, go buy these NOW on clearance! There is no legit 80s party without M.J.)

And then there was this bit of fun for the kids, and the kids at heart. Now, if you are a purist, these candies weren’t introduced in the 80s, but, really, who cares? I remember Pop Rocks as a special treat during my childhood, so these worked for us, and the kids loved the novelty of them. Also, Pop Rocks were discontinued at one point in the 80s, possibly as a result of crazy rumors that they would cause a kid’s stomach to explode. That is cool 80s trivia. Read more about it here!

What to do for a cake? My husband didn’t want a cake at all, but he asked for a big iced cookie instead. Perfect – the shape of Pac-Man! This dessert was made by my friend Laura at Sweet Treats by Laura, and it was so, SO good!

Now that the decorations and treats were prepared, entertaining everyone was the priority. Not a problem. First, we asked everyone to dress in 80s fashion, and that alone provided plenty of entertainment. I mean, when a friend comes dressed in the vintage New Kids in the Block memorabilia that she dug out of storage, you know you are going to have plenty to talk about!

The kids dressed up, too, which was especially entertaining. My son and one of his friends spent all afternoon making jerseys to look like Dell Curry and Muggsy Bogues from the Charlotte Hornets. They just needed fake mustaches and some shorty shorts to complete the 80s NBA look. Their costumes were, like, totally radical, ya know?

Our friends are generally happy to just sit around and chat, but an easy, fun alternative to entertain a small crowd is to play the game Catch Phrase Decades. This provided a lot of laughs as we tried to get our teammates to correctly guess names, titles, and products from the 80s. It was hilarious to see how much we did and didn’t remember from the past, and the game brought back many long-lost memories. (What did Mr. Mister sing again? Oh, yeah, THAT song! Right!)

Meanwhile, the kids were busy downstairs reliving our childhoods. They played Pac-Man, and they didn’t even find it boring thanks to Adam Sandler’s Pixels.

Great Scott! They watched Back to the Future.

And, my favorite, they had a ball with an 80s photo booth. This started with an inexpensive backdrop from Party City. Then, we stocked a basket with 80s fashions – crazy bright hats, fake mustaches, white gloves, net gloves, a net shirt, gold and neon bling, sunglasses, a microphone, and inflatable instruments, all from Party City and Walmart. The kids dressed up and took pictures all evening, and the photos are great keepsakes, too.

Our small party was a big success, and it is something that we will remember for a long time. After the party, we finished celebrating my husband’s birthday by giving him more than 40 cards from friends and family members who helped with this fantastic surprise. It included notes from kids he has coached, a card from one of his own basketball coaches from the 80s, and messages from so many people who have been so important to us during different phases of our lives. I am grateful to everyone who helped, and I still feel the need to apologize for sending group Facebook messages. Those are just terrible. Thanks for not unfriending me!

If there is one thing I know about 40, it is that our experiences now are less about the experiences themselves and more about appreciating the people who experience them with us. Our 80s party and the many birthday messages for my husband allowed us to reflect on all of those important relationships, past and present, for one totally tubular celebration. What will I do to celebrate my 40th? That’s still uncertain, but it doesn’t look like I will make it to Mexico. If I am with the people I love, though, that won’t matter much at all.

The Year of New

January 29, 2016January 29, 2016 / Still Chasing Fireflies / 3 Comments

2016 the year of new

On the very last day of 2015, I squeezed in this new year’s post and shared this resolution worksheet with all of you. It was a small token of my appreciation for all of the kindness that you had shown to my little blog in 2015. Frankly, I am still surprised, humbled, and incredibly thankful that you have come along for the ride so far!

When I posted this worksheet for you, I hadn’t yet tried it myself. It was still a theory, as in, “I just know this is going to be fantastic! This is good, right? Maybe? Fingers crossed!” But I am also a pro at embracing theories that fail miserably. Like my theory that our boys needed a really cute, rather expensive playhouse in the backyard that turned out to be invisible to them except when it interfered with their soccer game. (Not really my problem. My kids don’t know something amazing when they see it.) Or my theory that getting each boy his own hamster would prevent headaches for me in the long run. (Did you know that a female hamster can get pregnant immediately after delivering the first unexpected litter of baby hamsters? No? Yeah. Me neither.) Or my theory that roller skating with my kiddos would allow me to feel young and free of responsibility for a while. (You know I’m still paying the medical bills for that one.)

Fortunately, this time my theory proved to be correct, but not right off the bat.

First, let me remind you that I live with three human beings who are all fighting for survival in one stage of manhood or another. At my house, this means that words like “feelings” or “reflection” or “mom has a great idea” are usually met with some combination of grunts and moans and groans. Generally, any suggestion that doesn’t involve sports or inappropriate jokes or video games has to marinate with them for a while. As one of my smaller men said while pretending to cry (to get a laugh from the other men, I’m sure), “Sometimes it really stinks to have a mom who’s a teacher!”

Plus, they always know that I’m outnumbered. It’s so unfair.

So when I first mentioned at the dinner table that we would be doing this little project, they scoffed and made a few jokes and grunted and acknowledged their masculinity. Once we got that out of the way, everything went just as I had planned. Lesson to be learned, ladies: If you have a tough audience, don’t give up too quickly. That tough stuff is all on the exterior, I promise. Unless you actually know my husband, in which case I swear that he really IS a tough guy, inside and out. Seriously. No, really, he is. Don’t get me into trouble.

I may have planted the seed during a family dinner, but my secret to learning the joys and the hurts and the longings of my boys’ hearts is to corner them when no one else is home. Those quiet times, times when we can talk without distractions, when the testosterone level in the house is not at a critically high level, are some of my favorite moments. And no matter how much they scoff at my crazy ideas together at the dinner table, they are surprisingly receptive to them when we get to spend some quality mom-and-son time with one another. Honestly, we had a lot of fun filling out these worksheets together, just the two of us, reflecting on the year that was and the year that is still to come.

Sometimes we take for granted that we know our kids, that we know what is important to them, what matters to them most. But sometimes we are wrong, and that’s a shame, because they will often tell us if we just take the time to ask some questions and then to listen to what they have to say. I wasn’t surprised that both of my sons remembered 2015 as a year of sadness. It was a tough one for all of us. Our fall was a fog of farewells and funerals.

remember

But the second part, the part about Lola, was something that I didn’t even remember at first. I expected my son to talk about a sports achievement or a report card for this one, but his proudest achievement from the entire year was the time he saved our puppy from harm. He had been carrying her on a snowy winter day when he slipped on the ice on the patio and crash landed; she was just a tiny pup, and he was responsible for her, so he cradled her in his arms even as his head hit the cold, hard concrete. I had forgotten about how worried I was that he might have had a concussion. I had forgotten about how proud he had been. I had forgotten what a warm, loving heart that boy has when he’s not telling fart jokes.

And then there were conversations like this one, with my sarcastic pre-teenager.

dates

Yes, that actually says that in 2015 he learned that “a date is also a fruit that makes you poop.” I guess this is a quotation from his favorite cartoon, Gumball. This kid loves an audience, but he is also happy just to crack himself up. And he really is funny. He is witty and smart, and it was nice to take a break from questioning his filtering mechanism just to laugh with him for a while. He can be serious when he wants to be, too.

year of less

I’m pretty sure that we haven’t cut back on screen time just yet, but he is doing well so far with the others. He also decided to spend more time on art this year because I think he had actually forgotten what a talented artist he is. He made this Star Wars card for his friend’s birthday recently, and I am pretty sure that if that kid weren’t one of his best buddies, he wouldn’t have given this away.

My favorite part of the one-on-one sessions was helping each boy choose a quotation to guide 2016. My younger son scoured the Internet for quotations from athletes he admires. We talked about several of the quotations that he found – some examples of good character and others, not so much – and he settled on this one from Lebron James:

“Don’t be afraid of failure. This is the way to succeed.”

Nice choice, right? My older son immediately ran to his room to find this quotation from NBA basketball player Muggsy Bogues:

“If you can play the game, size doesn’t matter.”

So many of the things that we worry about don’t really matter if we are willing to work hard and stop making excuses, right? This boy is passionate about basketball, but he is small, so this quotation motivates him to stay in the game just like Muggsy did at 5′ 3″. Another good choice!

I shared my quotation for 2016 with the boys, too. It doesn’t need an explanation:

“With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible.” Matthew 19:26

Next, we needed to work together to create a family motto, so it was back to the dinner table one evening. Our goal was to complete the statement, “2016 will be the year of ___.” I was thinking of something like “kindness” or “teamwork.” You know, something that would promote good character at home. But that was just me.

One of my men suggested, “2016, the year of the chicken.”

Don’t ask. I have no idea what that means.

Another suggested, “2016, the year of awesome.” Now this seemed, well, AWESOME, at first, but we quickly realized that it would be impossible to measure. I imagined a year of conversations like this:

“Wow! Those roasted Brussel sprouts were awesome.” (Me)

“No way! Yuck! That was awful! You know what was awesome? That football game
that we watched last night! Remember when that one guy did that one thing and they
replayed it twenty times? That was awesome!” (A son)

“Yeah, right, that was great . . . I loved every minute . . . *Sigh*” (Me)

Then my husband suggested, “2016, the year of NEW!” And on the outside I was smiling and nodding, but on the inside I was thinking, What are you doing??? Work with me here, dude! New? What does this even mean! I knew we should have talked about this . . . However, as the idea started to take shape, I realized that this was a fun and challenging resolution. New doesn’t mean that we have to BUY new things every week. It means that we have to TRY new things every week. And they don’t have to be BIG things; they just have to be NEW (to us) things. And NEW is easy to measure. You have either tried it before or you haven’t. No debate! So here is what it looks like so far:

Week 1: New Recipe
(It was okay . . . Not wonderful . . . But it was new!)

recipe

Week 2: New (Old) TV Show With the Kids
(Parental warning: This has been fun, but there is more innuendo than I remembered!)

image1 (1)

Week 3: Ice Cream Taste Testing
(Sorry, Jimmy. Colbert wins by a landslide.)

ice cream vote

Week 4: Lunchbox Quotes of the Day
(More about this to come in another post!)

quote of the day

January is almost over, but it’s not too late to start a new 2016 tradition with your family, too. So far, the “year of new” has prompted some interesting conversations about what we have learned or tried each week, and we already have some fun ideas in store! It is also relatively easy; you can always try a new food, read a new book, see a new movie, or play a new game without investing too much money in the experience. From our house to yours, we hope that your 2016 is off to a great start!

Be adventurous! Try something new!

~Mary Ann

A New Year’s Gift for You!

December 31, 2015December 31, 2015 / Still Chasing Fireflies / 4 Comments

hand 2016

There is nothing magical about a new year’s resolution, but I do love the freedom and promise of a fresh start. Don’t you? The transition from one year to another is a perfect time to think about the year that passed and to plan for the year ahead, if for no other reason than because you probably have a little bit of time off when you could squeeze some reflection into your busy schedule.

New year’s resolutions get a bad rap. I feel a little sorry for them, actually. They don’t fail because they are a bad idea; they fail because we call them “resolutions” when they are usually just fleeting thoughts rather than sincere commitments. We break up with our resolutions when we were never seriously dating them to begin with.

It’s not you, Resolutions. It’s us. We were just pretending.

Setting personal or family goals is a great way to model for your kids or grandkids how goal setting is really supposed to work. Put something in writing. Break big goals into smaller pieces. Post reminders where they are visible, and put checkpoints on the calendar. Encourage one another. Teach your kids the reward of accomplishing a goal, and teach them how to pick up the pieces (rather than quitting) when the train runs off the track. Because it will.

That is not called failure. That is called “real life.”

Sometimes we forget that reflecting and planning and goal setting are LEARNED SKILLS. I have taught countless high school students who have huge dreams but no goals; they are confident that they will play for the NBA or become President of the United States or earn a Ph.D., but they have no concept of the thousands of small steps that they could begin taking right now that might ultimately lead to those accomplishments. Trust me; you want your kids to have these life skills, and you want them to learn them early, you know, before they are making critical decisions about finances, marriage, parenting, careers, and dangerous temptations. You and I both know that life will test our children’s resilience over and over and over again. I want my own sons and all of my students to grow into people who are able to reflect, plan, and adapt. Isn’t that what you want for your own family, too?

As a teacher and mom, I love it when I find a fun tool to use so that I don’t have to create something myself, so here is my new year’s gift to you! Try out this printable pdf for yourself! It can be a fun starting point for both kids and adults to discuss the coming year. Talk about it over a family dinner this week, and don’t forget to contemplate the smaller steps that you and your kids can take TODAY to start reaching your goals in 2016!

Bring it on 2016

BRING IT ON 2016 PDF

HAPPY NEW YEAR! Thank you for sharing and reading!

What are your goals for 2016? Leave a comment and join the conversation!

A Broken Arm Christmas 2015

December 23, 2015January 1, 2016 / Still Chasing Fireflies / 4 Comments

This December has been nothing if not unusual at our house. First, there has not been snow on the ground here. Not. A. Flake. There are not even flurries in the air as I write this. We could be running our last-minute Christmas errands in swimsuits because it is a balmy 64 degrees in Ohio at this moment. We haven’t seen our breath since last winter, so I’m not even sure if we’re breathing. It’s scary. (But just to be clear, I’m not complaining. I’m okay with this part. This was our puppy in the snow in the middle of November last year!)

But that’s not the only difference this year. Instead of baking sugar cookies and mixing up Chex Muddy Buddies (my holiday addiction . . . it’s like Christmas crack for us law-abiding citizens), I am binge watching Christmas Through the Decades on the History Channel while delegating holiday duties to my poor kids and husband to avoid testing the limits of my broken arm. (And I swear that I totally could have written the episode about the 80’s!)

Yes, it’s my right arm. And, yes, that’s my dominant one. Merry Christmas to all of us at the Ware house.

You may be wondering how this could have happened when it has not been snowing and there is no ice on the ground. The answer is that I am clumsy, and, apparently, even clumsier on roller skates. In my defense, however, I fell only one time. There were kids flopping around all over the place on that skating rink floor, but their bones are more like saltwater taffy while mine are more like peanut brittle.

And this proves that aging is not as much a state of mind as I had hoped. It’s for real. I’m getting old. Bah humbug.

Anyway, after a long, stressful week, we took our kids to their school skating party to blow off some steam and share some quality family time. Did I mention the week had been long and stressful? That was a contributing factor, for sure. I desperately needed some joy, so with just a teeny bit of mom peer pressure, I rented those brown and orange skates and thought, why not? I mean, it only cost $6 (initially). And I really did feel like I was ten-years-old again for an hour or so. (Don’t believe my friends who will tell you that I even skate-danced a little to “Who Let the Dogs Out.” I will not confirm whether or not that is actually true.) All joking aside, it really was fun.

But maybe it should have concerned me when they made me sign a waiver before they would take my $6. That’s for real, friends. The grown-ups have to sign a waiver at the skating rink. If that shouldn’t send any right-minded adult back to the observation area, I’m not sure what should. Oh, hindsight. How you torture me. I might have been better off signing up for the skating lessons advertised at the bottom of my receipt . . . And, no, I don’t anticipate being back soon, but thanks for the invitation.

Because it started all fun like this with my kids and my friends. . .

And it ended all sad like this at the Urgent Care with my very patient husband. . .

A broken wrist. Fa la la la la, la la la la.

We have tried to remain festive with cast #1 being red and green . . .

And cast #2 being green and red . . .

Look at my poor dog in that picture. She’s silently asking, “When will this end? Will you ever take me for a walk again, Mom?”

So Christmas at our house has been different, and I have had to be okay with that. Our Christmas celebration before the huge family gatherings was no gourmet meal . . .

Our gifts look like they were wrapped by a nine-year-old because, well, many of them were . . .

(He did a really good job, I must say.)

And we are planning to leave Santa a few stale brownie bites that a sweet friend left after a party at my house last week. No fresh sugar cookies here, Santa. Sorry! Better luck at your next stop!

But, on the bright side, we have been forced to prioritize, and the basic things that we look forward to every year have all been covered. The stockings were still hung by the chimney with care . . .

My loving husband pretended to be happy while pulling all of the trees and boxes and more trees and more boxes from the crawl space since I couldn’t do it . . .

My favorite things are all in place – because I just LOVE this holiday and everything it represents to my family and my faith!

And we have spent time and will spend more time with all of the people who mean the most to us during this special season. Some of the hustle and bustle has been removed, leaving time for conversations and board games and Christmas movies and quiet time together.

This Christmas season has not gone exactly as I imagined it would, but I am learning a few things in spite of my frustration. I am learning to love online shopping and appreciate gift bags. I am learning to accept help from friends without feeling guilty about needing it. I am learning to show more gratitude for my husband’s sacrifices and to let my kids do more for themselves. And I am learning that sometimes being forced to slow down is a blessing in and of itself.

Maybe you should consider the benefits, too, without waiting for a broken arm to adjust your perspective. 🙂

From our home to yours, we wish you peace, joy, and a very merry Christmas season! Thanks for reading my blog! And if your kid gets a skateboard for Christmas, please, I beg you, don’t even try . . .

Goodbye, Old Friend

November 10, 2015 / Still Chasing Fireflies / 27 Comments

My friend and I are sitting on the couch, wrapped in warm, cozy blankets. It’s fall, you know, and the air is cool and damp, and the breeze outside has an icy bite. In my house, the heater is running and I have a cup of hot tea in hand, but the chill has moved to the inside, and these blankets, well, they just aren’t cutting it tonight.

My friend appears to be toasty and snug; she is comfortable, I hope, and I am glad that she has nodded off to sleep. I can hear her breathing, slowly, steadily. I can see the rise and fall of her chest, and it brings me a fleeting sense of peace. The rhythm is even, measured, and the sounds are soft, like waves washing over the sand. My friend is sick, and I am hoping that we can savor the moments of a peaceful evening together. I am praying that it was not selfish to ask her to stay with us just one more night.

When I reflect on who I was thirteen years ago, when we first met, I’m surprised that she has stuck with me this long. I mean, thirteen years. We have both changed so much in that time. For one thing, we have aged. Wow, have we aged. And we’ve gained wisdom, too. She became a master of getting what she wanted when no one was looking, and I learned a lot about friendship from her.

In thirteen years, we have celebrated many milestones together. I remember when I was pregnant with my first baby boy; she watched me model maternity clothes in my bedroom and helped me decide what to keep. She never had children herself, but she seemed fascinated by my growing belly and the baby clothes everywhere and the mural being painted on the nursery walls.

When I brought that sweet baby home from the hospital, she was waiting for me at the door. She shared in my joy. She always wanted me to be happy. She snuggled with my baby and even napped with him once in a while. I felt safe when she was with him. I knew she would protect him from harm. I knew she would protect us all.

A couple of years later, she greeted me again after my second son was born. She loved to watch that baby squirm and squeal. She loved to share snacks with him, and he enjoyed that, too. It was a little conspiracy that they shared, breaking mom’s rules; I remember that it made my son erupt in giggles, the kind of giggles that pull the laughter right up from your own belly, too.

As the boys got older, they would sometimes be mischievous. She kept a close eye on them and would always let me know when trouble loomed. Sometimes, when they played outside, she would stand at the window and watch. She worried about them more than I did. She was petite and pretty, and she appeared harmless to strangers, but her temper was explosive. It wouldn’t have been wise to challenge her. I’m glad that no one ever did.

When I became a mother, my time was more limited, naturally. Some of my friends just couldn’t handle that, but she understood. She compensated by spending more time with all of us. She started mothering my kids, too, teaching them compassion and responsibility. Looking back, I know that I neglected her at times, but she forgave me. She never held a grudge. Her heart was much more generous than mine.

I have many special memories with her, but they are lovely, simple moments. She never vacationed with us or ate at restaurants, although I’m sure she would have enjoyed a well-cooked steak. Instead, she loved spending time with my kids and my nephews. She took pleasure in being outdoors and running with friends. She enjoyed hosting parties with me; she wanted to welcome everyone at the door. I think she seemed most content when we just curled up with the family to watch t.v. Looking back, she was happy most of the time, much more than most of the people I know. And she never made me feel like I was competing with anyone. My messy hair and comfy sweats were perfectly acceptable to her. In fact, she would tip her head and look at me with a quizzical expression if I decided to dress up for a change.

I remember taking long walks with her, but not as often as she would have liked. We both needed the escape of getting out of the house, away from the chaos. We could be silent together. We could soak up the fresh air and the beauty of the outdoors without even saying a word. She reminded me that friendships don’t have to be noisy.

Sometimes, though, I needed to talk. A few times I needed to grieve. Many times I needed to vent. Whatever the reason, she listened. She heard me. She got me.

And she never, ever told my secrets.

I tried to fill her needs, but I was also the one who created all of the rules in our relationship. I was the one with the limits and the expectations. Her love was always without boundaries. Sure, she appreciated a kind gesture here and there, but she was content with an ordinary routine and a simple pat on the back. She didn’t ask for much. She didn’t need a thank you note. She didn’t want the best brand of anything. She was satisfied with enough. I think that I could learn from her in that regard.

I always knew that she loved me even though she wasn’t one to express herself in words. I knew that she loved me because she always wanted to be where I was. That’s how you show love, you know. You show up for people. You know you truly love someone when you just want to be where they are.

So tonight, I am taking a little time out of my busy life to be where she is, here on the couch, swaddled in a blanket. I gently stroke her back, and I can feel the bones that were once concealed by fat and fluff. Most friends don’t realize when they are spending their last night together, but we both know. In the morning, I will hold her in my arms until her breathing stops and her pain evaporates like mist.

It’s chilly here this evening, but I hear the furnace running and my mug of tea feels hot against my hand. I’m wrapped up in a blanket, snuggling closely with my friend, but the warmth just won’t take hold. I understand it.

It’s hard to warm a chill that’s on the inside.

It’s hard to say goodbye to an old friend.

Kelci
August 22, 2002-November 10, 2015