Sunday, December 26, 2010


Getting walloped by a Christmas snow storm has forced me to take pause from all the holiday busy-ness and take a bit of time to reflect. Here are a couple vignettes from our holiday home to make you think if you're similarly snowbound:

Being trapped with my kids opens up huge opportunities for good natured ridicule. After all, we share lifetimes of inside jokes, common experiences and a load of embarassing stories about one another. After trekking back home through icy/snowy roads on Christmas night, we had no choice but to hunker down at home together. Going out or having friends visit were not viable options. The roads were just too treacherous. Fortunately, Santa had delivered Just Dance 2 for the Wii. Marinda and I subjected our daughters to our (lack of) dancing prowess and inclination for spastic-ness. I highly recommend a combination of herky jerky moves followed by a graceful pirouette to utterly confuse a high tech game console. I can't remember us all being so so goofy together.

Having everyone held captive for an evening together was my favorite present this year.


We all take the most precious things that life offers for granted. Not all the time, but it's easy to think that some of the simple joys that exist today will always be there. Maxwell family traditions like late night gift wrapping, delivering Mimi's chocolate peanut butter cookies to neighbors and schlepping to my in-laws' house for Christmas lunch could all easily be viewed as chores. But they're not. They're precious labor.

As parents we sometimes forget that one day Cassie will fully own her diabetes- that the perpetual task of acting as her surrogate pancreas will be taken from us. Tirelessly adjusting her pump boluses, dawn time blood sugar checks and carb counting are also precious labor. They are visible manifestations of our love for our child and I think we'll miss having that chance to care for her.


Even though we're dug in, the countdown for Treezilla has begun at the Maxwell house. Christmas is over with, and Marinda is on a mission to have all holiday decorations back in the attic and all holiday garland banished from sight. Although I've pleaded for a stay of execution, I'm afraid Treezilla, our 12 foot Fraser fir will be sideways at the curb ready to be turned into mulch by noon today. Christmas has come and gone. Too fast.

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