out of control, out of the dust

Minus ten degrees. Inside, all is twinkle lights and candlelight and a roaring fire. I am under a quilt on the couch and the white cat has nosed her way under the covers, too, and she is on my feet like a fluffy hot water bottle.

The season is upon us and we've been festooning. I came home the other night after a much needed catch-up with a dear friend and walked into a magical place - Vin had finished putting up all the lights, and there was greenery above all of the cabinets...paper snowflakes hanging all over the ceiling. Candles were lit. He and Iree were playing chess over some lemon bars that were still warm from the oven, and I was enchanted.

Late lies the wintry sun a-bed,

A frosty, fiery sleepyhead;

Blinks but an hour or two, and then 

A blood-red orange, sets again.

Outside, it is bare, brown, dirty, and dry. Kinda ugly. It's the beginning of December in Alaska and we have no snow. It reminds me of always winter, and never Christmas...but we will have Christmas (whether brown or white) to celebrate with two little kids who have never known it before.

Before the stars have left the skies.

At morning in the dark I rise;

And shivering in my nakedness,

By the cold candle, bathe and dress.


Close by the jolly fire I sit

To warm my frozen bones a bit;

Or, with a reindeer-sled, explore

The colder countries round the door.

When to go out, my nurse doth wrap 

Me in my comforter and cap:

The cold wind burns my face, and blows

Its frosty pepper up my nose.

Black are my steps on silver sod,

Thick blows my frosty breath abroad,

And tree and house, and hill and lake,

Are frosted like a wedding cake.

- Robert Louis Stevenson, Wintertime 

One of them had a birthday recently. I don't think she understood it, but she enjoyed opening presents and having us sing to her. She also loves finally possessing her very own Sturdy Plastic Resilient Non-Breakable and Completely Shatterproof Tea Set that she can play with whenever she wants to.

Did I mention that it's Reagan-proof?

Our Christmas tree is up and we are saving all glass and otherwise breakable ornaments until after the probationary period is over...which will hopefully be sometime before Christmas. 

She loves to touch things...buttons need to be pushed, textures need to be felt, pages need to be flipped and crinkled, and all surfaces need to be tapped to see if they...what? Move? Light up? Make noise? Zap her? I have no idea.

So we have survived three months of having three 6 year olds, and our new age count is 12, 8, 7, 6, 6, and 3...until January, when the next one turns seven.

The kids decorated the tree and I haven't even bothered to rearrange ornaments this year. There are clusters of them hanging off the same branch and other sections that are completely neglected. I'm learning to give up lots of little areas of control.

There are only so many things that I have a say over - for example, I can decorate the inside of the house, but I have no say over the temperature outside. I don't manage the weather, but I do manage the thermostat.

I can make all kinds of snacks and dinners and treats, but I can not, not, not make a child eat certain foods. You can lead a boy to celery, but you can't make him eat it.

I can provide clothes for the girls, but I cannot keep them from dressing up as Rainbow Brite, Punky Brewster, and Gooney Bird Greene.

We have a cat outside that has adopted us. We call her (him?) Wicket and she is the color of leaves, and she comes when she hears us come out. She purrs when we pet her and she nuzzles the kids and tromps with them through the woods. We have a bowl of food that we keep out for her, and she has a little warm box on our deck to shelter her as she eats...but I can't make her go it in and be warm, even when we have 80 mph winds.

Outside, it is usually cold and dark and ugly. There's no snow to play in or brighten the landscape. The wind blows something fierce, there is dust everywhere, and it makes us clutch our coats tighter.

Out of our home, there is attack and sadness and heartache, and I can't heal marriages or fix bodies or detox addicts. The onslaughts are something fierce, there is dirt everywhere, and we clutch our loved ones tighter.

Inside our home, it's not always twinkle lights and romance and hot tea. There is also attack and sadness and heartache, and not enough coffee in the world to keep up with six kids on some mornings. I can't force obedience or manipulate learning anymore than Reagan can negotiate the relationship between a turtleneck and plastic clothes hanger.

I can't clean cat puke, break up an argument, change a diaper, teach math, read Plutarch, keep dinner from burning, or answer the phone while holding a raging child...and, no, this is not a good time for you to teach your brother what a spit wad is. Go put those straws back. Wait, are those business receipts?!

The big kids come to the rescue often...they can turn off the burners, read to little ones, clean up messes, let the piano teacher in (boy, has she seen us in all our glory!), and finish making scrambled eggs in a pinch. 

We do have an unofficial buddy system. It's like this: the kids are all buddies with each other, and I am buddies with the Sophie cat. When I need a break in the middle of the mayhem, I run upstairs and she is almost always curled up on the bed, ready for a quick cuddle. She is a great listener, never complains about the food, rarely makes messes, and never requires my assistance if she's having a conflict with someone (that's what claws are for). It's a good system. I just love her.

all this pain

I wonder if I'll ever find my way

I wonder if my life could really change at all

all this earth

could all that is lost ever be found?

could a garden come up from this ground at all?

all around

hope is springing up from this old ground

out of chaos

life is being found in You

-Gungor, Beautiful Things

We are out of control, but it's for a season and not forever. It's okay that it's not beautiful in the way we hoped it would be. He makes beautiful things out of the dust...but we all want snow for Christmas.