I get really nostalgic this time of year, starting about September through the end of December. When the new year begins, a serious “spring cleaning” bug settles into my consciousness and I shift my gaze forward with a fresh outlook. As the wonderful May Sarton quote reads, “A holiday gives one a chance to look backward and forward, to reset oneself by an inner compass.” Right now I’m in that transition phase, shifting from the backward to the forward. I’m consulting my compass and feeling that deep sense of post-holiday contentment and restlessness at the same time.

Discussing past Christmases with my husband, I summed up everything in this way:

2004 – Best Christmas in memory. We got engaged on the 22nd, I was still living at home, and I got a new computer & the dReb.
2005 – First married Christmas; first Christmas in our house. Difficult for these reasons.
2006 – Much more “settled” = much more enjoyable.
2007 – Worst Christmas in memory, not because anything bad happened, but because the season was spent 9 months’ pregnant and I gave birth five days before Christmas. I spent that holiday in a complete fog. If you’ve ever been the mama of a December newborn, or just a newborn, you understand what I mean.
2008 – A great improvement over 2007.
2009 – A great improvement over 2008.

People often ask when we plan to have a kidlet #2, to which I reply: “What? WHY??? We JUST got rid of our baby when this one turned into a toddler. Why would I start all over with that misery??” Haha. (Kidding. Mostly.)

Last week was a blissful, lightning-fast sled ride down the icy hill of delight that is Christmas time. It was a wonderful holiday and we all had so much fun. Andrew was once again amazingly tolerant of the longest day in history, awake from 6:30a until 11:00p with a small survival nap midday. Two has been quite hilarious so far, and although everybody claims he has not an ounce of “terrible” in him yet, he does mini “Andrew-fits” in reaction to answers he doesn’t like (read: every answer he gets) during which he stomps and clenches his arms like the ASL sign for “cold”. It’s hard not to laugh at his furrow-browed toddler futility. And apparently he is suddenly potty-training himself, as he has gone #2 on the toilet for the past four nights after telling us he has to go. What the?? When did I give him permission to move past diapers, and when has he ever actually waited for permission for anything?

Love that kid, love our families, love my Savior. We enjoy many blessings in our life. And with my compass, I bid the past adieu and begin to reset myself for the future.