The Fighter, The Lover, The Lap Cat

The Fighter

Friday morning at the bus stop, I asked Aidan if he wanted to go to kumite (karate sparring) that night. (Secretly, I always hope he'll say no. I took him, once, and it was hard for me to watch. I admire and respect his Shihan (essentially, translated to master teacher) so much -

and I respect the discipline that karate instills in my son and in so many other children. I understand that the kumite is kind of the point of karate, and yet... I hate seeing kids hit each

other. Even when they are highly skilled, very impressive, very careful and respectful and simply honing their craft, without a trace of maliciousness or malevolent intent.) Anyway. I asked Aidan if he wanted to go to kumite.

"Yes," he replied with conviction. "I have a plan," he said.

I love this about him. I love that he is such a strategist. He thinks about what he'll do, plans the move he wants to focus on during the sparring match, and works hard to execute (His plan? Any time the opponent tried to deliver a roundhouse kick, Aidan thought he'd sweep him to the ground. We practiced at the bus stop - once. Thank god I still outweigh him more than twice his weight. And that I was wearing cleats.) I love watching him play chess with Jeff,

watching him work out problems with his potential moves, anticipating what Jeff might do. I love playing checkers with him, seeing how he counts remaining checkers, defends his last row against crowning kings. I love that he is competitive, eager to see how he'll fare against a bigger, more aggressive, more experienced opponents. I love this about him, because it is so different than how I am, how Jeff is. The "nature" argument wins in this debate. Aidan's competitive spirit is definitely innate. This boy, he is a fighter - a thinker, a strategist. I learn so much from

him.

The Lover

Leo loves to go and watch Aidan do karate and kumite. He's occasionally expressed interest in joining his brother, but ultimately opts to stick to his own pursuits - right now, ice skating and soccer. Still - he begs to accompany whomever is taking Aidan to the dojo, and sits quietly, taking it all in. I couldn't help but grin at the irony of Friday night, however, after they had all

returned home from kumite. Aidan headed straight for the shower; Leo, having bathed earlier, went straight for his sketch pad and markers. And proceeded to draw 8 of the most perfectly formed red hearts I've ever seen. Straight from watching 45 minutes of intense fighting (for there were some kicks to the head, blows to the jaw, tears, and struggle - ) he sat down at his table and colored eight red hearts. He is such a tender-hearted love.

The Lap Cat

If I'm sitting, chances are, my lap is full of a boy. A Pax boy. I affectionately call him my lap cat, alternately, my shadow - because if I'm sitting, it's with him. If I'm walking, he's behind me. I realized, quite suddenly, how much I will miss having a Lap Cat when this boy grows to be as big as either brother. The intimacy of the first years - of having a newborn who fits snug into one arm; an infant who nestles perfectly into your chest; a baby who drapes across your shoulder; a toddler who molds effortlessly into the jut of your hip - is something that cannot be replaced, only remembered. I will miss these lap cat days - mealtime, story time, play time, bed time, every time - these days of having laps and hips and arms full of a small, affectionate, delicious little person. Pax - my lap cat.

Resident Artists

Aidan is one of those kids who prefers "process" over "product," and I'm one of those moms who encourages it. As a result, many of his crafts and paintings and art projects look amazing as he's working on them, but when he's finished experimenting, the end result not exactly refrigerator-worthy. But occasionally, he creates something really awesome, and this is my most recent favorite. It's quite timely for the Chinese New Year, which happens to be the Year of the Dragon:


Leo is an expressive artist, capturing his emotions, thoughts, and feelings through his frequent drawings and paintings. He draws stick figures who are crying when he is upset or angry; colors huge hearts to give to whomever is feeling sad; illustrates cards of himself holding hands with friends from his class; carefully constructs family portraits, labeling each character (cats; snowpeople; monsters) with our names. Recently, he drew this snowman:

"You know who that is by the snowman's heart?" he asked. "Who is it, Leo?" I replied. "That's God. Because God is always in your heart."

Yes, Leo, God is always in our hearts.

But you - and all those whom I love - are in my heart.

By e.e. cummings:

i carry your heart with me (i carry it in

my heart) i am never without it (anywhere

i go you go, my dear and whatever is done

by only me is your doing, my darling)

i fear

no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) i want

no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true)

and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant

and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows

(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud

and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows

higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)

and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)

The Ox

According to the Chinese Zodiac, an Ox is someone who exhibits strength and determination. Our ox, Pax, certainly embodies those characteristics, most obviously in his determination to communicate - silently - and in his stubborn refusal, his strength - in trying to speak new words. I vacillate between admiring him for his downright beautiful miming skills, and feeling so frustrated and desperate for him to speak to us.

On this morning, however, no words could have made this scene more beautiful, tender, heartening. Largely unaware of my presence, Pax went about his caretaking in a most gentle and loving manner:

Pax climbed carefully on a step stool to reach diapers, a changing cloth, and wipes. Baby laid so still and so sweetly, ready to be freshened up:


I love the look of determination, tongue tucked between his teeth as he pulls out the wipe from the pouch...

Evidently deciding that Baby is happier unclothed, Pax gently trimmed each of Baby's toenails......then decided to trim his own.





Knowing how much Baby enjoys books, Pax chose a favorite - Snuggle Me, Snuggly - and nestled in for a quiet show of pictures.

I love you, my strong, determined Ox.

A Pirate's Life for Me!

One month ago, I didn't even own a 2012 calendar. That was so... next year. I'd scribble in the random appointment, here or there, on the extra pages that followed December, pushing out any thought unrelated to the weeks of celebrating that lay ahead. How nice it will be, I kept thinking, to have two and a half weeks of freedom before my class starts again!

Ha. The first day of 2012 found me at the starting line with my sneakers laced tight - I was off and running. I had several lovely posts planned to start the new year. They seem rather... faded now, as only today - tonight - have my feet had the chance to touch the ground.

Five years ago, the time between Christmas, New Year's, and January 5 stretched far and wide, feeling like an eternity had passed between each date. This year, with Christmas behind us, New Year's upon us, and Leo's 5th Birthday looming on the horizon, all I could think was, his birthday is SO CLOSE to Christmas! New Year's! How did this happen??

Despite the frenetic pace of 2012, we managed to throw a mighty fine party to celebrate Leo's 5th year. Months ago, Leo decided on a pirate theme, so I set to work gathering ideas and brainstorming activities. I nearly set the house afire with the invites, but they were well worth the cost of listening to the smoke detectors (tea-stained and edge-burned, for authenticity):

Dissatisfied with the chintzy hats I found in catalogs and party stores, I commissioned my mom to make bandanas for each party-goer, and they turned out as cute as could be:

Knowing how crafty my kids are, and how much crafting the kids do in preschool, I turned to Family Fun for a pirate-themed craft idea. The kids looved making the parrots and teaching them how to speak like a pirate!

We played several fun games, including"Swab the Deck," a game that Aidan plays at the end of karate sometimes. Essentially, it's Simon Says with some pirate swagger. (My personal favorite is "Seasick", where each kid pretends to vomit all over the ship's deck. Ironic, given how the mere thought of puking can give me a vaso-vagal (fainting) response.)

The culminating event of the party, though, was the Hunt for Buried Treasure:
Scavenger Hunt Clues:

Follow your Captian (Leo) to the ship's deck
He will steer the boat so it won't wreck! (clue hidden on lower deck)

Land ho! Now everyone off the decks,
Through the grass to find a spot marked X. (clue hidden in garden box, under cardboard X)

Now up the hill, we won't be poor
if we find a treasure clue at the front door- (front door!!)

Single file, Mateys, through the cabin -
No lollygaggin', fightin', or blabbin' - (hidden inside a hat in the family room)

If you can't take the heat don't dillydally,
yer treasure awaits - go past the stove in the galley. (look to dining room)

Ahoy! With a pace that was steadfast and measured
you followed the rhymes to a merry treasure.
Enjoy some grog, a pirate brew -
you can have your treasure and eat it, too!

Let them eat cake! I am always amazed at my husband - a non-baker, non-cooker, non-crafter, - at his ability to swoop in at the 11th hour (literally - he found someone to cover the rest of his night shift the night before his party) and turn something good into something unforgettable.

We even had a chance to sing a little sea chanty -

Sea Chantey (to the tune of Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star)

I'm a pirate, that I be!
I sail me ship upon the sea!
I stay up late - till half past three!
And that's a peg below my knee!
I'm a pirate, that I be!
Come sail upon my ship with me!

All in all, it was a wonderful celebration for an amazing boy. I adore Leo for his fierce determination, his ability to go with the flow, his reflective and kind nature, and his mischievous grin. He is our beloved, FIVE year old son. Happy Birthday, Leo! Aaargh!

Why couldn't the pirate kids go to the movie? Because it was rated AARRGHH!!

What do you call the pirate who is really angry? A P-IRATE!! (irate, get it?)

Infusion

I've been mulling over how to close out this year on my blog. I considered doing a "best of" or most favorite posts from this year, but decided that was a little too tedious and redundant. I thought about reflecting on the end to one year and the fresh start of a new year, but that seemed too contrived. I contemplated previewing 2012, but I was bored with myself after composing two sentences. Browsing through old posts, I found this little gem, published back in March, and decided it was a most fitting way to close out this year - a small tribute.

My heart is always with the people I know who have lost someone they love during the holiday season, as well as with those whose hearts are still reeling from earlier loss. I offer this story at the close of the year as a reminder that life comes full circle, that endings can be the beginning of something new, that in continuing ritual and tradition, we can honor most fully those whom we love.

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My mother’s finest tea cups, Royal Doulton bone china laced with delicate flowers, lay before us on the table. At age 8, I could hardly believe my luck – it was Christmas Eve; I was up past bedtime (too excited to sleep, anyway); I got to use the fancy cups and drink tea with way too much sugar and milk.Best of all, seated around the base of the softly glowing Christmas tree were two of my most favorite women: my mom and her mom, my beloved grandmother. A tradition was born.

Each subsequent year, I looked forward to the Ladies’ Tea on Christmas Eve almost as much as I looked forward to everything else – the cookie making, the gifts, the magic of the season. I loved shooing out the men in our lives – my dad and my brother Adam– this was for girls only, we’d exclaim. They acted indignant, but it was all for show.

We shared tea for years and years and years. Our time together, like the tea we shared, was delicious and warm, infused with love. In 1993, when I was a freshman in high school, things changed. My beloved grandma died in the earliest hours of Christmas Eve, before we’d had a chance to drink our tea. It was not unexpected, yet the grief and pain of losing her on such an important and significant day shattered my heart like the fine china we’d sipped from. There was no tea that year….

….or the next one, either. I was angry that my grandma died on Christmas Eve, because the magic of Christmas was gone. Her death created a permanent stain in our teacups, one that refused to lift despite repeated scrubbing. Eventually, though, the stain began to fade, and our tradition resumed…

Many Christmas Eves later, when Adam was home for a visit and my future husband, Jeff, was staying with us, our tea tradition took a turn for the worse. Throwing our good sense down the drain along with the steeped tea leaves, my mother and I – the only women in the house – foolishly decided to allow the men to join us for tea, but only if they promised to be on their best behavior. We should have known that trouble lay ahead when they turned their noses up at our Darjeeling blend, insisting that their “tea” was a two finger pour of Glenfiddich. Apparently scotch and sugar cookies make for a boisterous pairing, because the tea had scarcely been served before my mother and I made a beeline for the door, away from the peals of laughter coming from the men. We loved them dearly, yet they had no appreciation whatsoever for the dignified, classy nightcap on our Christmas Eve. They’ve not been invited back.

In 2006, Adam, his partner Linsey, and their son Hugo joined us for Christmas; my mom and I were thrilled to have another woman join us for tea. Linsey had heard about this tradition before, and arrived prepared… with a new blend of “tea,” this one more of the bubbly and spirited kind. We exchanged our Wedgwood for Waterford, rose leaf tea for sparkling rosé.Although I was well past my 21^st birthday, I had the odd sensation of feeling like that eight year old again, experiencing my first grown up tea with the fine women in my life; the rosé proved to be a whole new kind of grown up tea.

Since Linsey’s tea with us those years ago, we’ve continued to faithfully set out the special Santa tea pot each year - but we’ve abandoned tea in favor of one variety or another of sparkling wine. Yet I sense that the eve is approaching, soon, when the tradition will change again, when we will go back to tea with way too much sugar and milk, for there are up-and-coming eight-year-olds in this house. I have no daughters, but I do have three very fine sons who will revel in the opportunity to sip tea on Christmas Eve with two of their favorite women ever – Mom and Grandma. Our time together promises to be delicious and warm, infused with love.

Time and Love

Homemade Gifts, Year 2: Aidan sewed and decorated a pillowcase for Leo; Aidan sewed a bear lovey for Pax. Leo drew many beautiful pictures, painted a canvas, cut out letters, and mod-podged his collage together. Pax spent several hours creating a gorgeous 2012 calendar for his older brothers, that they hung in their room. Aidan and Leo each made ceramic pottery gifts for us (Aidan made the vases and bowl; Leo, the plate). My mother made me owl pajama pants, and my father made us gorgeous mahogany coasters with inlaid pieces of oak. Jeff macraméd bracelets for each boy, and I knitted scarves for each of them...

"Gifts of Time and Love are surely
the basic ingredients of a truly Merry Christmas."
-Peg Bracken

Merry Christmas to You!

There is one part of Christmas this year that we did skip - again. Last year, we decided not to send out Christmas cards, and last year, it felt like a big stress reliever. This year, I didn't give cards a second thought, assumed I'd feel the same sigh of relief over not doing them - but I was wrong. Even when we staged a few "would-be Christmas Card Photos," (which, weirdly, I looove taking) I didn't feel any guilt over not sending them, nor any real desire to send them. It was only after it was far too late that I felt the pangs of regret. Perhaps a good and gentle reminder, again, why we don't skip Christmas.

And so, Friends, I offer instead this virtual Christmas card. I know that, in its virtual state, it will disappoint you just as much as a Nook or Kindle disappoints a true bibliophile - but it is heartfelt and sincere all the same, and it comes with a promise no hand-held device can ever make: next year, a lovely paper Christmas card will arrive in your snail mail box. I'm done with skipping Christmas cards.

"Our hearts grow tender with childhood memories and love of kindred, and we are better throughout the year for having, in spirit, become a child again at Christmas-time." -Laura Ingalls Wilder

(^^I absolutely LOVE this photo, because it was taken a nanosecond before Leo goosed me!
I laugh every time I see it. Oh, and since you're wondering... those are reindeer
embroidered on Aidan's pants. )

Merry Christmas, You!
Love,
Anne, Jeff, Aidan, Leo, and Pax