Christmas Day sledding

I have a new motto for 2015:

Don't let perfect be the enemy of good.

I remember it, loosely, (because I may have the wording wrong), from Gretchen Rubin's book The Happiness Project.  This doesn't mean we stop trying to do our best. Rather, it means we don't let our fears of being imperfect keep us from doing many, good things. Rubin wrote about setting a goal to acknowledge the birthdays of every friend and family member by sending an email. A friend scoffed at her idea, saying a simple email wasn't personal or meaningful enough -- her gesture needed to be grander. Rubin could have been swayed, but she realized she didn't need to meet someone else's expectations. I could spend time going to the library, scouring for the exact text. That would be a perfect recitation. Yet my remembrance is good enough.

I get hung up with this little blog. I don't write enough as I could because I get crippled thinking what I post needs to be amazing. So I don't start. I crave validation so much that I forget the most important reason to write is to have a record for my family. I made a blog book for my parents, and I'm grateful that their appreciation re-energized me to keep sharing through pictures and words.

Really, when I sat down at the computer today I intended to just dump some of our Christmas photos for family to click and save. I had no write-up in mind, for I hadn't thought of anything to say. But I have a strange mind. I'm always searching for deeper meaning. As I perused the photos of our absolutely delightful day sledding, I remembered how wet Kyle's socks got because he had holes in his shoes. Boots would have been perfect, but he didn't bring those. His joining everyone anyway was even better.

So here are our Christmas photos with a side of whipped theme. I can't help myself.

1. Christmas morning in the hallway.

2. Elise's reaction to getting a phone. I probably had a similar expression of surprise! Dad is a softie.

3. My dad plays a game of Sudoku.

4. All five with rapt attention on Grandma, picture 5.

 6. Elise

7. James

8, 9. This little tree shows the power of being planted deep. Somehow Kyle managed to hit it. The second time he did so, the collision flipped Kyle into the air. We laughed so hard. I saw his acrobatics but didn't capture them on camera. Darn!

10. Cousin Greenliee

11. Kyle

12. Cousin Zooey with her dad, Uncle Jeffy.

13. Samuel

14. Grandpa with snowball in hand. His shirt is the flagpole scene from A Christmas Story. "I triple dog-dare you." He threw the ball, then made a hasty retreat inside.

15. Cousin Ruby with Uncle Matt. Look, there's Grandpa in the window.

16. Greenliee

17. Elise's expression!

18.  Samuel

19. Elise and Zooey

  20. Emma

21. Matt and Ruby. She was done after that!

22. Oops. Emma and Elise slid off the sled.

23, 24. Remember the little tree? Kyle got walloped.

25. Aunt Madison and Zooey.

26, 27. Uncle Jeff readies a retaliation snowball. 

  

28, 29. Emma

30-32. Hey, Kyle, the lighting in this candid shot is pretty cool. Hey, why don't you pose for a portrait? Never mind. 

33-36. Elise

 37, 38. James

39. Uncle Jeff

40-42. Emma

43. Abandoned layers at the back door.

44. Woo-hoo! For pet Auggie, of course.

45. Ruby. I feel bad I didn't get any pictures of Aunt Brooklynn. She's the most photogenic of us all!

46. Auggie loves Grandpa!

47. Zooey, Greenliee and Ruby in their matching pink Frozen jammies.

OK, just to force me to live by my new motto, Blogger insists on rotating these pictures, no matter what I try. It's not perfect! Instead of abandoning them altogether, I present these shots for the cute little girls they depict. Maybe you'll have better luck, Madison!

48. Greenliee

49. Zooey -- looking an awful lot like her big sister.

Happy 2015!

At attention

I am learning much this month about being attentive and ready to jump in with my time when needed. Emma's involvement with her ballet studio's production of The Nutcracker certainly underscored the value of time -- particularly with the requirement that parents (that's me!) spend 10-20 hours behind the scenes to make the show happen. Yet this was time I could manipulate. I knew I had a commitment to chaperone a group during Tuesday's rehearsal and performances Thursday, Saturday morning and Saturday evening. Wednesday's rehearsal was the lone day to take pictures. I attended Friday. That meant I was gone after 10 for five nights straight. Although I had dinner to serve those five nights before I left, I needed the rest of the family to step up with clean-up, homework and bedtimes. They did. I shuffled piano lessons, somehow getting nine students in during the week. I had to delegate some of my church responsibilities, but I planned ahead and things worked great. (I'm not counting any laundry success, however.)

I actually enjoyed myself! This was surprising, because our last Nutcracker go-round three years ago did me in. I did not like it. At that time a couple of bragging mothers put my daughter down. They made sure I knew their daughters were in higher dance class levels, never mind that all our girls made the same audition. The 2011 week physically depleted Emma. I wasn't keen on doing it again, especially with her higher academic stakes as a 16-year-old. 

Another shadow was that Elise also tried out but didn't make it, a repeat scenario from 2011. (They didn't try out in 2012, and neither made it last year.) Elise's heartbreak this time was intense. Emma was cast in the same dance as three years ago, so neither of my girls feel like they have made much progress in the studio. 

I took my cue from Emma, however, whose positive attitude about the production made me set aside my own misgivings. I would not be bothered by the rare snooty mom! I would find the good! It's amazing how this decision for the current Nutcracker forcefully brought back uplifting memories from the first one: like seeing the gentle patience from a high-school-aged mouse dancer with the young girls who flocked around her in hero worship; and of course, sharing in Emma's enjoyment.

Staging rehearsal. Look at those fingertips!

I'm so glad I got to spend this time with Emma again. It was a better experience because of my wish to make it so.

By Nutcracker week I'd had many pulls on my time this month, some scheduled, some surprising. I had a big church meeting on Elise's birthday Nov. 6 that I also delegated so I could be with her. The next day a dear friend in my ward, Kris Gibson, passed away, and I felt I needed to visit some of our neighbors in person to tell them. It took far longer than I expected, but I was glad I did. Preparing for her funeral was a labor of love. Then, I wanted to recognize the first anniversary of the passing of a woman's husband. I failed to get a gift, flowers or a card. It wasn't as grand when I simply called her and left a voicemail message but the important thing was to let her know I remembered. On another day a woman told me of someone she knew struggling to feel accepted at church. I thought about this sister for days, ultimately deciding to take her a note during the week letting her know I value her. It was an hour before church when I finally made it to her house. A family member answered and offered to call her to the door. With my car running and a child inside who needed to be dropped off to a meeting, I declined the invitation and asked the family member to deliver my note instead.

I sorely regretted it.

I couldn't believe I passed up on the opportunity to give of my time. To give of myself.

So I look at these pictures and see not just soldiers, but a paradigm shift brought to light as I spent time supporting them. I'm glad to have such a vivid association with my new commitment to freely give in the moment, to not catalog all I could be doing instead. To make the most of it, and be happy.

My birthday fell during Nutcracker week. I had four different chaperone assignments, but fortuitously I got to be with Emma's group on my birthday. Earlier in the day my sister-in-law Brooklynn came to Elise's choir class to sing even though she was up to her eyeballs preparing to move. It meant the world to me. Brooklynn blew them away, as I knew she would. (Click here for a clip from her performance in Hairspray.) Elise positively glowed in the attention. Seeing someone give time to my daughter and make her smile was the best birthday present ever.

These pictures on stage are from the Wednesday dress rehearsal. Emma is second from right.

By Clara

As Drosselmeyer issues commands.

These two pictures of take-off and landing are a second apart, and I missed the air in between. Shoot!

Feedback from their teacher Bethany Boster, second from left, after the first performance.

Emma unleashes her bun. She didn't get my "I Dream of Jeannie" reference. 

Friday: Grandma Hatch, Emma with Red Soldier teddy bear, Aunt Katie, Elise. Oh, look. It's the men's bathroom! My parents and friend Nora and daughters came Saturday matinee, and another aunt and two cousins came Saturday night. Thanks for supporting us, despite the photographic proof. (Blasted battery!)

Friday: Cousins Josie and Amelia swooped unto Emma as soon as she came out. 

Saturday matinee before heading to stage. Emma is in back row, second from right.