Meredith Carson... Across the Pond and Back Again...

I have been doing a bit (and hearing a bit) of Christmas griping lately.  I will admit that I was annoyed when the Christmas music was playing on the radio and in the stores well before Thanksgiving.  I have bristled at the Christmas-themed commercials on television telling me and my children that we need to go out and buy holiday-scented toilet paper, battery-operated, musical earmuffs, and the like.   I have rebelled against my own Christmas-loving nature since I do not like to have commercialized Christmas jammed down my throat before I've even had time to properly digest the Halloween candy that I stole from my kids' trick-or-treat bags. But today felt different since a somewhat unexpected winter storm converged upon us last night.  When we woke up, it looked like this in my front yard... School was delayed two hours, so there was extra time for morning chit-chat, hot breakfasts and crawling back into bed with our resident-little squirt to watch Blue'...

We've had another beautiful Thanksgiving and hope that you have too.  Lili celebrated the day with a festive neck scarf which she insisted upon wearing at the dinner table.  Friends shared the cooking duties (and feasting joys) with us, and we dined on all of the traditional favorites including a large turkey who previously lived less than a hour away and was gobbling his little heart out a week ago.  He was very fresh indeed, and everyone agreed that he tasted like he had led a very happy life. We are continuing the celebrations all through this weekend with leftovers, board games, special blessings, and public reflections on gratitude.  Emma and Sophie have enjoyed the Thanksgiving Alphabet Game wherein we go through the alphabet naming things for which we are grateful.  Lili contributed that she was thankful for "Elmo's World" even though the rest of us were on letter "P." None of us engage in the frenzy of Black Friday typically.   Today was...

Children are a conundrum.  I said it.  When they are babies, they require every ounce of energy a mother can summon...and then some.  When they are babies, we mothers find ourselves wishing on occasion that we didn't have to do every bloomin' thing in the world for them.  We rejoice when our babies complete tasks independently for the first time.  Recently I have found myself becoming ridiculously impressed with my two-year-old's jumping skills.  One day she just learned to jump with both feet like a professional kangaroo, and I was dazzled. Now my two year old can do all sorts of things independently.  She can feed herself for example.  The little genius peels her own bananas and clementines.  She also pushes a small chair around my house and gains access to "up high" things that used to require mom's help to acquire.  She dresses herself in completely mismatched clothes and cowboy boots.  Most of the time this is all great....

I have been stuggling this week.  Yes, you read that correctly.  I haven't even had enough "R" in me to struggle properly.  Thus, I stuggle.  Every year I stuggle right around this time as the days begin to get shorter.  It would appear that my brain and body truly need sunshine to function properly.  When the daily sunshine levels begin to decline, I feel as though a fog has settled over my brain.  All operations slow dramatically as my energy levels plummet.  I feel sad and overwhelmed.  This happens every year. I've tried slapping myself in the face and shouting, "Snap out of it!" a la Cher in Moonstruck , but that hasn't seemed to do the trick.  In the past spending early morning time in front of my old friend, the light therapy box and upping my intake of Omega 3 fish oils has been helpful in combating my seasonal depression.  Early in the morning I shockingly do not feel like standing in front of a blinding artificial light...

My life has been a bit stressful and serious lately which is why Halloween came at a very convenient time this year.  It is difficult to feel gloomy when introducing a toddler to her very first jack-o-lantern.  Wouldn't you agree? (The eerie shadow on the left was totally intentional.  I am an excellent photographer.) And even though I am a self-proclaimed hater of crafts, and pumpkin carving is clearly crafty, gathering round the table with my family, each of us wielding sharp knives, made me feel very happy and loved.  With my husband's artistic pattern I was even able to carve this top notch Cookie Monster-o-lantern making my excited toddler even more excited... My nine-year-old impressed us all with her super cool dragon-lantern.  She worked tirelessly (and probably a bit too late into the school night) on this fantastic design.  She is a little bit of a rock star fireball, you know. All of this wonderfulness happened the night befor...

Toddlers are certainly not perfect little people, and today I am not planning to romanticize life with a two-year-old.  There are fits and tantrums, fierce battles for independence, and infuriatingly fickle preferences that cause severe mood swings at random moments throughout the day.  Earlier today my toddler begged for a banana, and then threw it on the floor and screamed, "NO WANT THIS BANANA!" when I handed it to her.  Earlier this week she decided that the only thing she was prepared to wear all day was a purple Dora the Explorer night gown, glow-in-the-dark pajama pants, and her pink cowgirl boots.  I'm sure everyone at the grocery story thought she was adorable in that get up. All of that being said, there are some pretty wonderful things about these little people.  Two-year-olds simply do not hold back their emotions.  Sometimes the result is an ugly scene, but other times it is beautiful.  I am thinking specifically about the way my youn...

  Of course I am not speaking of your favorite colorful chocolate candies.  The M&M club was founded many years ago when two young best friends marveled at the luck they had when their moms (who had been pregnant together) named both of them names beginning with the letter "M".  Miriam, my mother, tells me that her first memory of her best friend Myrt (who was actually named Merilyn) involved games of peek-a-boo played through the bars of their individual cribs in the First Baptist Church nursery about sixty years ago. The two grew up together, Merilyn was graciously granted the childhood nickname of "Myrt," and my mother made certain that this nickname followed her to college and beyond.  At some point, in between numerous practical jokes and untold volumes of silliness that caused my mother to laugh so hard that the tears ran down her leg, these two friends made a vow that the M&M Club would endure throughout the next generation.  They promised to...