I had the buttermilk, the flour, the mini-loaf pans--everything I needed to make some yummy treats for the awesome women in my mom's group. I had a ride to playgroup all lined up. In other words, I was set. My plans were to bake all day and share the love tomorrow, which also happens to be Winter Solstice, which we observe in our home.
So I was caught off guard when Joe brought Kiddo downstairs with a glistening sliver of wet under his nose. Another cold.
Being that I am not the kind of parent to give the gift that keeps on giving (germs), I think our plan is to stay home tomorrow. This cold may affect our Christmas day plans and frankly, I don't want to throw a wrench into someone else's works. I know that I'm not fond of people bringing their super-snotty kids out to mix and mingle so I try to follow that rule as well.
Needless to say, we've scrapped the baking plans in favor of cuddling. Joe has three more days of work and so we're stocking up on necessaries to make sure we don't go bonkers while hanging out at home. An "Old School" Sesame Street and a deep sea documentary will do fine. I'll have to send the man out for more super-soft tissues and garlic before it gets too late.
I'm not sure what the point of this post is, other than to take the season as it comes. I love the Winter Solstice, the passing away of the darkness as we regain the sun's light. We used to celebrate with friends, sitting outside sipping wine, huddled up in blankets and coats around a warm fire, talking low and looking up at our friends' window to see the altar of candles glowing inside, warming the kitchen and the dark winter night. Now we are more scaled down with Kiddo around, but I will light some candles and breath words of thanks for the changing of the seasons. I'm learning more and more to accept what is happening in my life, which was much harder for me when I was younger. Now I try not to dwell on what I might be missing, instead focusing on how I can make where I am and what's happening in the here and now better.
Chicken soup with garlic and noodles for my son. A nap for Joe. A cup of tea and some good planning time for me. I'll light the candles, make a fire, and be thankful for the rest, the quiet and the renewal that I'm hoping this time at home will bring. Winter is a season where so much looks bleak here, yet so much is happening in the natural world unseen. The plants are holding their energy in the nascent tree buds I can just discern and in the roots underground, invisible. The animals come to eat at our feeders and the bare branches of the choke cherry and plum tree reveal the tiny bushtits and chickadees that were hidden for the better part of the year. Blessings to all who celebrate the return of the Light!