We put the lights on the tree last night and draped the gold tinsel. We hung this year's new ornaments that I give each child and The Husband every year, but that was all. In keeping with a more relaxed version of the holidays, that was all we did. We'll continue to hang our beautiful ornaments over the next few days and hopefully get some help in putting lights on the outside. Oliver, as always, wants to add to the already outrageous amount of crap we have, but I was able to put the nay on his suggestion for a big blow-up snowman.
One day at a time, I whispered into Oliver's ear this morning when I hugged him good-bye before school. He's been having an inordinately difficult time the past few weeks, enough to make me sick with worry, but I'm trying to take it slow, acknowledge that I'm doing everything I can to help him, one step at a time. I've been doing this for so long with Sophie, you'd think it would be a piece of cake with a typical kid, but it's not.
It's Emily Dickinson's birthday today, one of my favorite poets. Here's a random poem I plucked out of my book of her collected poetry, perfect for the season.
The Savior must have been A docile Gentleman— To come so far so cold a Day For little Fellowmen—
The Road to Bethlehem Since He and I were Boys Was leveled, but for that 'twould be A rugged Billion Miles—