And we purchased a set of drawers to hold her teas, snacks, and candles, getting rid of an assortment of baskets and bags:
The end result was on very happy Issa:
This blog won't capture the major milestones of life. Instead, this is the place where I hope to capture the little day to day realities of life...the little things that I want to remember when the little handprints have faded away.
Today will be full of cooking. We'll go to Mom's tonight for Christmas Around the World. There is just something lovely about this Christmas-y time of year.
As part of my work, I need to listen to every press briefing that our governor and health secretary hold. Changes are fast and furious, and I have to be ready to pivot--and help my beginning and student teachers pivot--on a dime. Hearing straight from the source is mission critical right now.
That said, I've lost count of the number of briefings I've listened to in the past few months. I will admit I have cried on more than one occasion. Yesterday, however, was the first time I was moved to tears in the best way by a news conference.
Yesterday's briefing was one more plea for people to stay home, keep celebrations to just immediate family, and to move Christmas services to a virtual format. The final speaker was Reverend White, and I wish I could remember where his church is. It has stayed virtual since March, and I would gladly tune in to listen to this man preach.
Yesterday, his message was Emmanuel, God With Us. He reminded us that Isaiah stood in the wilderness foretelling Emmanuel, God With Us. On Christmas, Jesus came--literally Emmanuel, God With Us. Now, in the midst of this crazy pandemic wilderness, He is still, and always, Emmanuel, God With Us. Not God With Us in a building--God With US. Where we are. It was a beautiful reminder for this season and always.
When we got home, we decided to play Uno Dare, and Evan was all too thrilled to get to mess up Dad's hair:
It still feels strange to have less hustle and bustle this year, but I am really loving all this slowed down family time.
I am looking forward to a whole week of this cozy Christmas mood...
I've also spent quite a bit of time in a friend's kitchen this week. He owns a chocolate shop, and Covid forced him to lay-off all of his employees. Christmas is his biggest season, but he was drowning. I've been going in, masked and gloved up, to help package orders. I take him dinner; he gives me dessert. We both think we have the better end of the deal. There is no better place to be than his kitchen, thick with the smells of cocoa, peppermint, and roasting nuts. I don't know a ton, but I can follow direction well. Luckily for him, a former employee who opened her own catering business just had to close it, so she is now helping him pretty much full-time, which means he will need me less. It's wonderful! She knows how to do all of the things and can help him organize the business side of things. But...I can now break a two or four ounce piece of chocolate bark within .1 of an ounce on the first try. Most importantly, it's been really lovely to help a friend.
We are so close to Winter Break around here! Getting the kids out of bed this morning took a little more coaxing, and I will admit I'm wearing a Meredith sweatshirt and yoga pants because my only meetings are with colleagues at other campuses today. We are squeezing in one more meeting about some collaborative projects before we all shut it down for a couple of weeks. I promise no one will be dressed up.
We have big plans to do nothing for two weeks, and I can't wait.
She has brought so much joy to our lives. She now works out with me every morning. She loves laying under me when I'm in plank, and she finds ways to get head scratches. This morning, she was most excited that my warm up was running in circles and then touching the floor; she positioned herself to get a scratch every time I touched the floor. She even curled up in my lap while I meditated.
I am so very grateful this little ball of fluff and attitude came into our lives. She brings me great joy.
First, it was so stupid good to be back in a school with kids. I miss watching them learn in person. Those lightbulb moments just feel different behind a computer screen. I missed the feel of cinderblock and tiny chairs. I missed clipping on my nametag and signing in. I missed watching teachers I taught teach when I am actually in the same room. That all felt so very, very right. I was back home.
But right after I snapped this picture I put on my mask. On the way in they checked my temperature. I watched my former student teach her heart out. She was masterful. She kept those tiny humans engaged and learning for the two hours I was there. She also reminded them six million times that their masks had slipped, that we can't share our pencils, that we can't hug our sad friend right now. I watched her disinfect the same thing a million times and help kids sing while they washed their hands--again. She is working so hard to teach and keep kids safe in a pandemic, and as I watched all I could think was "it's not if, it's when." Through no fault of hers! Littles are not meant to go to school this way; it's too much of an ask.
What broke my heart most was the response on social media when I posted. Teachers knew exactly what I meant. They are so tired and worried and frightened. Some that have been back for a while talk about the acceptance that everyone will get it; they just hope for a mild case. And when it's not? People who aren't teachers just want to be back, and I do get that, but at what cost?
At this point, I won't be back in schools until January, and even that I'm not banking on given the rising numbers. I will spend a lot of the day trying to sort myself out, and like every teacher I know, when the kids need me I'll be right back in that building.
If you are reading this and you know a teacher, please check on them. We are not okay.
Last night was one of those family dinners that I wanted to freeze in time. Since I have fewer meetings, I had made spaghetti with homemade breadsticks, which is always a family favorite. We saw our first snow flurries yesterday, and the day just felt a little extra cozy and magical. We lit the candles, and Buddy had brought a bowl of Would You Rather questions a few days ago that made its way to the table.
The fun of dinner, though, really started with a little unintentional elfin dark magic. Yesterday, Buddy brought North Pole Snowman Juice, which tasted a lot like water with some spearmint. I interpreted that to mean that this is the juice snowmen drink. The rest of my family, however, is convinced it is made of snowmen. It turned into this whole elf versus snowman war story. It was hysterical.
We spent nearly an hour playing Would You Rather and laughing. It was nothing extraordinary, but it was just lovely. I'm hoping for more of that magic this month.
Sunday, we watched the virtual Hillsborough Holiday Parade--all 17 minutes of it. We did get to see Issa and TTP in it, so it was worth it. Then we finished our tree: