First snow day of the year, and we got to stay home for it with our babies. Not all is lost.
We were walking out the door, Chris and Ames and I, when we received the call that our flight out of town had been canceled. There would be no time to make it up north to fly out of Alaska in time for all of our other travel. No hiking in the desert for Ames’ thirteenth birthday, no celebrating our wedding anniversary in a new city. We will rally, but today feels bad.
We wrapped the Nutcracker today. We wrapped the college course I taught tonight. So much community, so many feelings, so much bittersweet relief. I’m glad my kids get to watch me say yes, and I’m glad my kids get to watch me end things as well.
My baby has taken to the stage like no creature I’ve ever seen. I wasn’t prepared for her to not need my help for a single second. From costume changes to choreography, she leans on her fellow cast members and waves a glittery I love you at me as she floats by. This is soul-shaking in the best way.
Tonight we had a break from Nutcracker, only to return to the theater for the middle school winter concert. Being in a small town for these things is simply the best. Everyone you know is somehow connected to a 7th or 8th grader who has been required to join choir or band, often against their will, which includes a holiday showcase after hours. It was hilarious, it was joyful, and it was fun. The martini I had at dinner beforehand only enhanced the experience.
I remember this date not because of Pearl Harbor’s story, but because of my own personal history attached to it… my grandfather never failed to remind me of this date, quizzing me year after year. This is my first Pearl Harbor anniversary without him. I remembered, Papa.
My mom comes tomorrow! My comes tomorrow! My mom comes tomorrow! She’ll stay for a week and watch three Nutcracker shows and watch three girls while Chris and I take Ames away for an adventure. My mom comes tomorrow!