Five little things

I love that Kathleen calls clementines, lemontines, and the image of a squishy, easy to peel, tart, yellow fruit it creates for me.

Kathleen tried skating today for the first time. She got out on the ice on her double-bladed skates, holding tight to our friend's hands and then mine. She moved on to a milk crate and then, center ice (on the tiny, wonderful homemade backyard rink), she let go and half stepped, half slid one foot forward. Again. Again. Again. Til she reached me at the side, complaining that her hands were cold.

We went out skating today (I tried too though it has probably been 20 years—or more—since I last wore skates). We went out skating today despite my careful watching of the thermometer (It was 20 degrees out today, but sunny and still. Compared to yesterday with it's biting wind it felt almost warm.). We went out skating today despite the work deadline waiting on my desk. I'm glad we went skating today (and glad too to have moved that bigger than it seemed project off my desk).

Last week, while I was working, Brian and Kathleen made me five-layer squares, one of my favorite treats, certainly my favorite that Brian makes. He makes them particularly good by not skimping on any ingredients and being exceedingly precise in spreading the ingredients. I still have a few left and I look forward to my afternoon coffee every day because I get to have one.

We made chili over the weekend. I say we, but Brian did most of the work while I learned about making cheese and traded a few jars of dilly beans and jam for chutney and honey and elderberry elixir. Fourteen quarts of chili means a bunch of meals in the freezer—and chili pizza this week. As Kathleen would say—Hooray! That's another thing I love, how much she has been saying Hooray! lately.

Good intentions

I wrote last night in my journal (pen on paper!) about my goals and intentions for this year. I wrote about what I'd like to continue (letting go, seeing the good, opening to joy) and what I'd like to let go of (anger, frustration, anxiety).

At 4:30 AM, Kathleen fell out of bed (her bed rail, that I knew was loose when she went to bed, collapsed). We had the first meltdown of the day. My suggestion that she sleep on her brand-new Christmas present sleeping bag led to a screaming, kicking fit. Sleeping with me got the same response.

I finally got her settled in my bed. And I was wide awake. I was exhausted, knew I had a lot of work to do and not a lot of time to do it. I was angry with Brian for accepting a last minute overnight shift. I was irritated with Kathleen for waking up. I was frustrated that I couldn't get back to sleep. She couldn't either, so I pointed out the stars out the skylight. We snuggled, and when she asked at 5:30 to get up, I thought why not.

I made coffee and toast, and we had a picnic on the kitchen floor.

It was not the day I expected or wanted or planned for. It was long and sometimes hard. I ended with a lot of anxiety about getting all my work done and feeling a little incompetent though I suspect I'm not the first one to question the process on my new assignment and I know I'm not to blame for the schedule cram I'm in.

I'm going to take 15 minutes to breathe and maybe read and be away from my work and my desk and my computer. I'm going to try to let this day go, but maybe I'll hold onto the stars and the snuggle and the picnic.