Proof

Just in case I needed to prove that I did indeed do crossover turns in the garage with my roller skates. I'm the second from the left with my childhood posse.

It Finally Snowed!

Finally! Enough snow to actually warrant the purchase of new snow boots and clothes for the kids! Santa brought the kids a new sled so it's been sitting by the back door waiting for a day like today. We just went down the "hills" in the backyard today but tomorrow will be the real test of our new sled. We'll go to the big hill at the park nearby where everyone goes sledding.

Luca had to ride in back because "he's littler than me and he doesn't know what he's doing yet".

There isn't anything cuter than a toddler in a snowsuit. Even an angry toddler who wants to get back on the sled but instead has to appease his mother and stand for a few pictures.

Christmas in Virginia

The trip to VA to see V's family for Christmas was a quick one. But I would have flown longer and stayed even less time just to experience it all again.

The cousins were in heaven. More kids to play with. More kids to eat ice cream with. More kids to make even more noise.
Just as special as seeing the kids play together is seeing V reunited with his people, his tribe. There is an ease about his family that is so nice. I like watching people click back into their authentic selves when they are with loved ones. I think about who truly knows us, inside and out, and it's the people we've lived with over the years. Our families.

We stayed in a hotel for this visit because there were too many of us to pile into V's sister's house. As we bumped into each other reaching for toothbrushes and scavenged through suitcases looking for clean socks, I had vivid flashbacks of my own times in hotels with my family growing up. I always loved seeking out the ice machine. Mia and Luca were so excited by the whole adventure. I loved hearing them breath at night next to me and even enduring their wild kicking at ungodly hours while we slept. At one point during the night, Luca was above my head on the pillow. I also heard him mumble "Mama" a few times as he slept. Life is short and my days as his true love are numbered.

We braved the cold and all of us went into D.C. to check out some museums. We went to one of the Smithsonian Museums....the Museum of American History. Luca promptly fell asleep in his stroller and Mia happily discovered the kids' section. V and I took turns pushing a sleeping toddler through the exhibits. On our way to the metro, we walked between the Washington Monument and the capitol; I took this photo. Mia prefers when Daddy holds her, she has told me. He's bigger. And stronger. And warmer. That's what I'm told anyway. I don't know if I'd argue really.

I just like this shot of V, in his element. We always have fun exploring new places together.

And this is random, and so delightfully wacky, but we all went roller skating too. All of us. Even Nonna. Well, she sat near the concession area with our bags along with Mike and V. But the rest of us strapped on skates and hit the rink. Mia loved it and declared it better than ice skating because you don't get cold. I felt the breeze in my hair as I did some cross over turns (those years of practice in the garage apparently paid off). Luca pumped tokens into the pinball machines and skeet ball alleys. The song "Who let the Dogs Out" came blasting over the speaker and I caught V's eye. We smiled as Mia wiggled and screamed in delight about how much she loved the song.

The food. The food! Nonna is a mighty chef. We all love to watch and learn as she works her magic in the kitchen. Here are Mia and Luca watching carefully as she beat chicken breasts into paper thin cutlets. Luca begged for more meatballs and pastina. He would begin signing "more" even before we walked to the table to begin eating. Food is always a theme with our visits. The Pellegrinos know how to eat - good nourishing foods. REAL food. Homemade food. You know that feeling you get after a good meal? A healthy but slightly decadent one? That's what I felt as I boarded the flight home. Satisfied. Grateful. And slightly sad that the whole experience had ended. Just makes you want to put in your reservation for a future visit.

Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night

And so then, my darlings, wherever you roam, may you always be safe....may you always come home.

For as long as the world still spins and still hums, wherever you are, no matter what comes,

the best part of Christmas will always be...

you beneath my Christmas tree.

(From The Spirt of Christmas by Nancy Tillman)

Dreaming of a White Christmas

Sand that is. White sand.

(Although, I wouldn't complain if some cold white stuff fell from the skies so that our family vacation to the beach next month would feel well deserved.)

Cookies

We decorated cookies with Nana today. There is something about the whole process that drives the feeling home - it's Christmas. My mom is an expert in this department; Mia said to her upon her arrival, "Mom says you are an amazing cookie maker." Never were more true words spoken. I grew up with sugar cookies for every holiday. And not just any ol' sugar cookies. I'm talking about the kind that you see in bakeries....the kind that are so cute you're tempted not to eat them. Ours today were a bit rough around the edges (nana didn't arrive until the baking was finished). But, the way I figure it, I've got years of practice ahead of me.

Family Ties

I've written about music before. How it makes the world go round. How it makes our house come alive. How is burns and churns deep within us. How it makes me cry sometimes as I drive to work. Thinking of my dad. My kids. Missed opportunities and found ones too. (Warren Zevon gets me. Every time.) We listen to it all. Brahms. Vivaldi. Mitchell. Dylan. The Clash. David Bowie. Jay-Z. Lou Reed. Lucinda Williams. Nick Cave. Radiohead. Tom Waits. Wilco. Yo la Tengo. V introduced me to some, and I met some all on my own.

It's fun now to share it with our kids. Luca runs for V's guitar and shoves the picks inside of it, and then motions for me to shake it. (I keep trying to explain that the music from the guitar is not actually the lost plastic pick hitting the wood, but rather the strings attached.) They pretend various toys of theirs are their i-pods, hitting the buttons and then beginning to dance. They dance in their car seats and sing along to the music.

I put in Bob Dylan the other day, the song Sara, and the car grew quiet as I turned it up loud. I told the kids that the song slays me....the most beautiful "take me back" song I've ever heard. It was written by Dylan for his wife, Sara, in an attempt to reconcile.

The other night, Mia was recounting all of the Sara's in her life. Her old neighbor. Her friend at school. Another friend's grandmother is named Sara too. As she ticked these people off on her fingers, she concluded with "Bob Dylan's wife. Remember Mom? Bob Dylan wrote that song for her."

I smiled. Our musicians, and their muses, have become so familiar to us in ways that they are in our daily lives. Holding our hands. And our children's. I vividly remember listening to music with my dad and I remember watching him as the songs played. His face smiling, and in deep thought. We called it "Dad's music". My parents were eclectic in their tastes, as we are today. They listened to a lot and set the tone for music being a part of life. A huge source of comfort and company.

I have a few cds of "Dad's music" and I pop them in now and again in the car. I listened to it as I drove home from the hospital after his death. That bleached out Colorado sky sitting so low and huge over me. Possibilities felt endless with that blanket of blue. I remember smiling that drive home. Those artists are my friends, a bridge between now and then. A common denominator between life and death. Their words never changing, their beats and rhythms reliable. They are immortal.

When Mia listed Sara Dylan as a Sara she knows, I thought about that ever present life cycle....a parent sharing influences with the child. And I approved of that budding friendship between the two. My girl and Dylan's ex-wife.

I don't care to what music my kids end up gravitating. Maybe they'll be like their mom and have a soft spot for folk. Maybe they'll be like their dad and have a taste for some experimental rock....interesting guitar riffs and vocals. I just hope that music allows them to feel. And feel deeply.

M and L

You know how they say a picture is worth a thousand words?

Ho Ho Ho

We visited our very favorite Secret Santa this year again. I would tell you where he's located. But then I'd have to kill you. So, its best if it remains a secret.

All I have to say is this. I believe.

How do you explain to two kids that there is a difference between truth and reality. Heavy right? Well, there is truth in this great big guy in red. I almost even shouted over my shoulder what my heart was yearning for....my wishes this season. The moment felt that REAL. I know, I know. It's all a myth. But there is something so sweet about it all.

The Songs of Childhood

Mia's preschool Christmas program was last night. It was exactly what you'd expect a preschool Christmas program to be like. There were nose pickers and underwear grabbers. There were nervous toddlers clutching moms. Children facing the wrong way with teachers gently twisting them toward the audience. There was even some projectile vomit from the third row. (Quite impressive actually. Green. Tons of it. I should have applauded because the poor little lamb knew enough to step down directly in front of the group in order to let it all blow.)

We arrived early. I misread the program announcement and we walked in to an almost empty church. Mia and Luca and few other early birds played on the altar and danced around, holding hands and happily feeling festive. It was just another program. Just another function. Just another place to be in an already place to be filled month. But I can't tell you the feeling of magic I always get when I know my kids are excited. And they were excited.

Luca clapped for his big sis. And she leaned out to wave to me during her class song. That wave. That confident little smile. I've said it before, and I'll say it again. Life can be hard. There are so many obligations and expectations. So many "should haves" and "would haves" and "will dos". But at the end of the day, sometimes those long grueling days, there are these little people that still believe in sweet simplicity. Sitting in that packed church last night with all of these other parents video taping their children, I felt surrounded by fierce love. The real kind. Tis a great season. We all just have to stop and take notice of it.

30 years

If someone thinks that love and peace is a cliche that must have been left behind in the Sixties, that's his problem. Love and peace are eternal.

- John Lennon

New Life

Mia met the beautiful teeny baby of one of my oldest and dearest friends. Seeing these two little girls together was a moment. We mothers both lurched for our cameras, knowing what we were trying to capture on film was impossible. Because a picture can't contain all the love that we feel for one another, and for our kids. Watching Mia stroke that itty bitty tummy or tickle those toes felt like an extension of ourselves. These girls probably won't be the friends that their mamas are, but they will have us as examples of what friendship should look like. And that's pretty powerful.

(Luca was napping but he would have been mesmerized by this tiny infant too. He loves baby dolls. He feeds them, gives them medicine, puts them to bed. He also squishes them into drawers and throws them around outside so supervision would have been a necessity.)

My tribe

This is my favorite picture from the Thanksgiving week.

This photo....these people....are the pillars that stand tall when you dig to my very depth. Sure, a hot husband and two sweet kids have joined the ranks but they weren't there originally.

These people were.

You know what's cool about my family? We aren't stuck. I know some stuck people. And I find them hard to be around. (Definition of stuck people....those people who freeze you at a certain point and keep you there. Those people who may have known you years ago, or even yesterday, when you were different, even if just slightly, who want to keep you stunted, in that place that you've outgrown. Evolution to stuck people is something that apparently only happened once - when the first ape developed a thumb.)

On my family's last night, we all sat around drinking and eating. We asked questions of one another. What book would you cling to if you were only allowed one on a deserted island? What cd would you bring if you could only bring one to that same island? What would you do if you didn't have to work? What celebrity would play you in your life movie? Essentially, we were asking one another, Who are you? What moves you? What makes you tick?

And you know? Not a single one of us said, "That doesn't sound like you" or "I wouldn't have picked that for you" or a snotty "Since when?" Instead, we all listened - earnestly - eagerly, and sat kind of transfixed by each other's choices.

(And seriously....Blythe Danner playing my mother in her life movie? Brilliant choice Mom.)

This is my family. Totally accepting of change. Willing to embrace one another.

I wrote in my last post that we were all heavy hearted when the reunion ended.

I actually cried. I admit it. I did.