Mothers, Daughters, and Christmas Miracles

While it seems that my daughter and I tend to differ on a number of things (including a tendency to question maternal figures in our lives), the other day we agreed on something. And it struck it me! Often our opinions collide. We're not so different. She and I.

I decided to keep a list on the convergence of our thoughts.

• Tantrums over fancy smart phones=dumb. 
• Twitter supersedes Facebook in terms of ease of use and an overall coolness factor. 
• Saturday Night Live is hilarious and worth sitting at home for. I hope she always agrees with me on this. For the rest of her life.
• We eat too much hamburger. (Even the word turns in my tummy.)The boys in our house will disagree and might even make an argument out of this point.
• Dialogue is what makes literature memorable. "It a truth universally acknowledged..."
• The return of Beavis and Butthead is...AWESOME. Uhh...Uhhh.
• The Lion King might possibly be the best animated film ever.

And now for the miracle. After four months of losing our beloved cat, guess who we found on the front steps of St. Joseph's Church before Mass? It was none other than Skye! With a bit of wear and tear no doubt. But unmistakably our cat. Two people in our family seemed...indifferent about the glorious find. But two of us (my daughter and I) knew we had witnessed a Christmas miracle. Awww. Just look at him.

Things that are Awesome

I came across an amusing blog that posted "Things that are Awful." But in the spirit of the holiday, I'm determined to keep a sugar and spice angle. So, instead of thinking about things that are awful, I started to think about things that are awesome.

My kids showing their love? Awesome.

• kids, or anyone for that matter, who don't have cell phones
• iPhones (I recognize the paradox in the list)
• kids who send their own money to charity...with no coaxing
• high school vocal concerts–I say that in complete sincerity,
• The Wall Street Journal's 2011 review in books...So many books. So little time.
• Matt Damon, obviously
• bazillions of little girls dressed up in taffeta, tulle, and striped leggings (I admit it! I'm jealous!)
• underdogs and upsets (What are those pesky Broncos considered these days?)
• Tom Brady (Ha! Disclaimer: this list is based on aesthetic appeal only. However, as I write the Pats lead...)
• stinky, lazy dogs who once roamed the ditches and now rule a home
• reruns of the big bang theory to waste two hours of our time three nights a week
• blue twinkle lights to remind us of the phenomena of electricity and how happy a blinking light makes us feel
• The Waitresses Christmas Wrapping (As far as Christmas tunes goes, it's a great blend of quirky, joyful, and snap.)
• laughing at Saturday Night Live with my hubby and dreaming of going back to NYC soon so we can almost puke in a cab ride
• lists
• my son's thrice, daily check of gifts under the Christmas tree

That's it for now. Lot's of awesome stuff. How many awesome things do you spy this week before Christmas?

A Gift

Yesterday during a staff meeting I happened to be the recipient of a lovely floral bouquet–a nice holiday surprise from my considerate staff. While the gift was beautiful, truly I was mostly struck by the act. Because frankly, I've not been feeling the season lately. Lots of work. Lots of grind. I've had a bit of snarkiness about me. No, not very Jesus-like.

Then I got the flowers. And it hit me. Perhaps I needed about one hundred doses of gratitude. Obviously, I get to work with some pretty awesome people.

I feel sorry for victims–true victims. But shame on me or anyone who plays a victim by complaining about dumb stuff. Like being too busy. Sheesh. 

In the words of Charles Dickens, I’m going to try to do a better job of doing the following in 2012:

“I will honor Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year.”

That feels so much better than...complaining. Happy Holidays.

Joy from the First Snowfall

We Iowans have all been bragging about the magnificent autumn around here. Yeah, yeah. But while few will succumb to the admission, there's something magical about the first real snow of the season. Right? Right! My daughter and I took pleasure standing on our deck to stare at the infinite flakes as they bombarded our countenances.

And then guess what happened? After we came in, my daughter began to clean up the kitchen. Without me asking her. That's true joy. 

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Cleaning up," she replied.

"Why?" I asked.

She mumbled something about vacuuming. I'm still a little unclear on her sudden ambition. Whether it be the season, a sudden repulsion to filth, or even a little guilt working on her, it doesn't matter.  I was pleasantly surprised. Maybe, just maybe there's a little magic in those snowflakes. If so, I'd say keep 'em coming.