Cabin Fever

It has been snowing/sleeting/freezing raining off and on all day. I love it! But the kids in the house all day - not so much. My sweet Ben has resorted to holding us hostage with annoying noises until someone plays a game with him. This is after playing Settlers of Catan with him for more than two hours, 5+ games of rummicub, reading a few books, showing him to the craft area (many times) watching 2 movies, having him gets his chores done, and encouraging him to play with siblings. We are in complete freak out mode. It's a very good thing that it is almost bedtime! On the upside with sweet Ben, he read half the words in an easy reader all by himself - including a few words he's never encountered in print before. Huzzah!

In other news, I sprained my ankle last night at a friends birthday party - we went to a trampoline park. I have been on the couch all day with my foot up. Fortunately, Matt was home all day to take care of me and look after things. 

Those two challenges aside, it has been a cozy, comfortable kind of day. 

Fresh and New

In elementary school (probably fourth grade since that was the grade of the epic recess sports) every time it snowed, we would go out during our first recess and stomp down the snow in a circle with intersecting lines going across the center. It created a wagon wheel that made a fantastic tag course. It would stay until the snow melted, which was sometimes weeks. Occasionally, however, we would be beat out there by random feet that trampled the snow here and there and everywhere, making it impossible to make the wagon wheel.

As I was thinking about the new year, that image came to mind. The new year is a fresh field of snow with no footprints in it. That field will get tracks in it. There is no way around it. I just get to decide if those tracks are haphazard or if they provide a framework to accomplish something purposeful. It's all in the planning. I feel like too many of my years have been of the haphazard variety. That is partially due to the realities of life with children, but also because I have just let life carry me far too often.  I want this year to be different. I want this year to have a wagon wheel. That wagon wheel is the plan I'm making. The map I'm drawing. The places I'm going and the places I don't ever want to go again. That wagon wheel will leave room for the hope and joy that come from a purpose-filled life.

I hope this year I can be productive but balanced. I hope I can be more present in my own life.  I hope I can be a force and not something that is acted upon. I hope I can have the strength to do what is required of me in my various capacities and the wisdom to ask for help when I need it. I hope when I come to the end of this year I will look back with peace of mind and love in my heart.