It’s been a while. Things have been hectic, emotional and just plain ol’ crazy around here. I can’t even excuse the time between the entries. But I won’t try to catch up either. Because that’s the Christmas Card Letter Guilt. You all have it. Either you write a letter every year, except that one year that grandma passed away and the baby was born, and dang it you were tired. Or you never wrote one, and this year when the kids are old enough you’re not pulling your hair out and Christmas isn’t spent in the car 8 hours one way to celebrate Christmas (which by the time you get there the last thing you want to do is smile and awe at any baby, even Baby Jesus). Or you’re like me. I don’t want to write one, but I have this amazing friend who sends me one every year and I relish every bit of it. She’s great. I’m not. I don’t want to start one. Hence “Christmas Card Letter Guilt” … you all have it. You might not know it, but you do.
For 4 weeks I’ve had CCLG for this blog. I could sit down and write a tiny thing, which I think is great and you’d all like to know about. Just a small note, like that awesome guy at Message With a Bottle. He’s great at it. And perhaps from here on out, when I’ve got just that one awesome tidbit I’ll jump in and post. Like how there are too many little boys in the house as it is, and little boys are weird and stinky and crazy but loveable. How my Peanut and her friends trip me out all the time. How I have the absolute best friends on the planet, and couldn’t do life without them because I’d go insane. How Clark Kent keeps reassuring me that life is great, and we are great and, well, who’s a rock star? I am. Because let’s face it. Kid #5 isn’t too far off. But more so I went and did something that was a dream, and succeeded.
What is that insanity? PTA President. Oh yeah. All year I’ve had these great ideas about how our PTA could be more efficient, more creative, and cater more to *gasp* the parents and teachers. Thought I could do that. And so did just enough people. And I’m humbled. So very, very humbled. People, even just a few, think I could to. That all the creative juices I’ve got can be pumped into my kids’ school. I couldn’t be more excited, and shocked, and well … just humbled.
So today I sit at my kitchen table, the windows are open, the sun is setting, and the kids are out in the yard playing. Life is rolling along, and for just this moment, however teeny tiny, it’s rolling well. The hammock is up for the season, the garden is ready to plant and our family is ready to focus on being us. And I’m preparing for next year at the school. It’s time to start the music … it’s time to light the lights. Fasten in boys and girls, it’s going to be a fast, hard ride, and I can’t wait to share it!
