The New Year

The new year begins with mixed blessings.... Nanci & Steve's new year's eve party was truly magical. They had a roaring fire in their wood stove and candles everywhere. Children were rosy and wet, food was wonderful, and outdoors was a large roaring bonfire on the patio. Beyond the fire, in the snowy yard, the trampoline was surrounded with sparkling, twinkling lights. The children wore bread bags on their feet, to jump in the snow.

Jim declined to go along - it's his way of punishing me, I think...to deny me of his attention and cooperation. I resent it, but I'm trying to respond in love.

Emma and I walked with seven 5/6th grade girls and two dads to the Lyndale Farmstead park by Lake Harriet, where the snow had been packed into a sledders paradise. The weather was perfect - cold enough for good snow, warm enough for comfort. Little Ava got cold, but we were find. Emma and I went down the hill seven or eight times, avoiding the moguls as best we could. It was exhilerating for her, and a good challenge, as she started the sledding with tears of fear. We had a great time, short of falling off the sled once and spraying our faces with hard, cold snow!

The way home was long for her - we came back to Steve & Nanci's at 11:30, with just enough time to warm up, collect our thoughts to see the old year out. I handed out Joss Paper that Emma & I bought at United Noodle. Several people took the opportunity to let their old year's resentments go, by burning the paper in the fire. The girls got a kick out of it, especially when one of their papers refused to fall apart, leaving a ghostly ash sheet in the center of the fire.

Steve poured cider and champagne, and we counted down from 60. We pulled our crackers and watched roman candles being shot from other parties around the neighborhood. The noisemakers were noisy, the hugs and kisses were genuine, and we all shared wonderful warm feelings.

It was fun to talk to parents of other teens, and I realize that I am on the right track. Although Jim doesn't agree with me in my approach to raising Axel, I feel that since he prioritizes Emma, and I cannot, that I need to prevail in supporting Axel with love. Withholding love and affection will only separate him from us more, and lead to no connection to value for living up to the standards we impose. Axel and I had a nice talk the other night when we went to HARRY POTTER & THE GOBLET OF FIRE. It was fun, and I think I need to spend more time with him.

I hope Jim can try to trust the process. (1/15: I've realized he probably feels the same thing about me.) I prayed this morning to understand what I'm supposed to do, if anything. In the meanwhile, until it becomes clearer to me, I will focus my energy on my children, and the house, and to work in love.

"When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives means the most us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving much advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a gentle and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares." —Henri Nouwen