Daylight Hours

I love my job. I love the life we have. With all of its complexities and schedules and logistics. I love it. It is just who... and what... and where we are.

I really do. Even at the moments when I don't.

I know. It is right. For us.

But sometimes there are just those moments. The "what if" times.

Sometimes it happens when I see other people and the pictures of their kids.

I find myself sitting there. Okay, sitting there? Who am I kidding? Walking through Target or idling at the bank drive-thru flipping through Facebook on my phone, whatever. I am seeing their photos. And I try to figure out what is different.

And then I see it. It's that moment.

 The moment I sometimes have on sunny Saturday mornings.
When I realize that we aren't very often home in our house in the daylight. That I don't often get to see 10 a.m. light hit my carpet.

 Or my kids' hair.

And putting aside photography skills. That's what I see. Daylight, we're just missing daylight.

But instead? There is no instead.

There is a whole lot of living going on.

Good living. And we just have to remind ourselves...We have a lot of fun, a lot of life, but it's just when you have to use a flash.

Yes. Yes we do.

Like finding money in your pocket

You know when you put on your winter coat for the first time in a season? You put your hands in the pockets wondering what you might find.

Usually it's mismatched gloves, an old napkin from takeout, an expired coupon and a Target receipt. At least if you are wearing my coats. Which might be kind of strange.

But if you get lucky, you might reach in and find a $10 or a $20. You do a happy dance and feel like you have won the mini-seasonal lottery. At least I do.

I had a moment kind of like that this morning. If we're connected on Twitter, you might have picked up on the fact that Brian and I have been working to lose some weight. We kicked off our efforts the week before Thanksgiving. Gluttons for punishment? Not really. I just figured if we could jumpstart this process during the holidays, surely we could win at it in January and beyond.

So this morning in the closet, I reached up high. To that shelf. The one where long-gone, no-longer-wearable-cause-I-swear-the-dryer-really-shrunk-them clothes go. And I pulled down a pair of jeans.

With a deep breath, I put them on. Without profanity. As I turned around to look in the mirror and make sure the image wasn't horrifying, I noticed something was in the back pocket. I reached in to grab it our and found this.

The first thing I noticed was that it was expired. Bummer. And I walked to throw it away. But then I noticed something else. The Better if Used by date for the product was Augst 8, 2010.

Meaning that the last time I wore these jeans was likely more than a year and a half ago.

And that? Right there? Was better than any $10 bill I could have found.

Budgers

I am not a particularly aggressive driver.

I stand my own, sure. But all it took was just one time of being cut off by a person and me-turning-into-an-overly-ticked-off-fiend-only-to-find-out-it-was-someone-I-knew to I let it go.

For me, it's one of those moments. Those life is too short moments.

Sure, sometimes I am known to, um, boldly, use my voice to encourage the driver in front of me to move faster or merge or just not drive like an idiot.

But that's it. Life is too short to get shot over someone cutting me off while driving. Geez, I sound like I am 92.

But in general, I am just not overly concerned about people budging in front of me. If the entire state of Rhode Island tried to get in front of my family at Disney World? Don't get me wrong, I will take them on. But the random commuter on the way into work? Have at it buddy. We're all on our way to do the same thing. Three seconds won't kill me.

However, Caleb has yet to learn this lesson.

So when another kid budged in front of him in line he wasn't having any of it. And when he told said kid that, the kid continued to budge. Just this time more physically. So Caleb dug back in with his elbow. Determined to hold his all-too-important-spot. Those extra three seconds of snow-pant-pulling-on-ing were critical.

The pushing and elbowing continued. And continued. And, evidently, escalated.

Leading to me getting called out of a meeting by the school nurse calling my cell.

One final, swift push from the other boy caused Caleb to lose his footing and fall sideways. Face first into the drinking fountain.

 

Side note? I don't recommend falling into a drinking fountain. The drinking fountain wins.

The nurse reported that his face was swollen to about twice its size but that she was pretty sure he didn't have a concussion or a broken face. Ah yes, the reassuring words every parent hopes to hear. 

Your kid didn't break his face.

But he will look like Frankenstein for the next three weeks. And yes, this was taken at week two. It was worse. (Side note: See "Why the Snyders don't have a Christmas card photo this year..."

 Lessons learned? Probably none really. But maybe he'll be a safer driver someday.

Or maybe he'll just avoid tussling with drinking fountains in the future.

 

All I Want for Christmas

Each year I promise myself I won't do it.

I won't buy stuff just to buy it.

I won't pick up junky toys that I know will end up thrown away or given away in six months.

I resist noisemakers and fight causers.

I won't give out of obligation but out of genuine sentiment.

I won't stuff stockings just to stuff them.

I won't pursue stuff just to pursue stuff.

As I wrapped presents and took stock of what I had done and what I still needed to do, Eli walked into the kitchen, showed me his new "jet pack" his brother made him and sat down with a book.

What fine timing you have, little man.

To quote our friend the Grinch (or the French, whichever):

It came without ribbons. It came without tags. It came without packages, boxes or bags. 

And he puzzled and puzzled 'till his puzzler was sore. Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before. 

What if Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store? What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more?" 

Hmmm. It's tempting. But I think my kids might notice if all of their Christmas gifts came out of the recycling bin.

Ah well, back to the pursuit of sanity and balance.

It's Christmastime and He's Got the Spirit

Sometimes a classic is just a classic.