Tinseled TILT

It's been three weeks since I last TILTed. The end of the semester sucked the life out of me for a bit there. So today's TILT will include pieces from weeks past. It's a mixed bag on this Christmas Eve. :)

I love the excitement running through the boys' veins. Their energy and absolute adoration for this time of year is palpable. It's so much fun to watch and an honor to be a part of.

I love that my kids get to celebrate both Hannukah and Christmas. They win the holiday jackpot! I love that neither is JUST about presents for them or for us, that who they see is just as important and awesome for them as what they see in that box or under the tree.

I love my students. I've said it before, but really, they are awesome human beings. Many of my kids are away from their parents. They are living here with other relatives or friends. I love that when one of them has a birthday, the others pitch in and throw that kid a party during lunch. Someone comes late or leaves early to get a cake, they gather in my room, and they celebrate with and for each other. None of them ask for it. None of them expect it. But they all participate. It's an incredible and amazing thing to watch. It nearly brings me to tears every time they do it. It's such a little thing, but to the kids who otherwise wouldn't have a party or be celebrated or even acknowledged, it means the world.

I love the cold, sharp winter air. I don't so much love the itchy skin, but I can't get enough of the cold air into my lungs when I'm outside. It's my own little version of crack. :)

I love snow! It snowed! At my house! That hasn't happened in 30 years! It was barely enough to notice, but enough to paint the grass white for a few hours and cause my kids to lose their shit. It was awesome. I want more!

I love the lights and decorations, the music and the sounds of this season. I'm not always in the mood for it, but when I see my kids' faces light up over a song on the radio or movie on tv, it changes pretty quickly.

I love that Bette Midler found a way to Jew up classic Christmas carols. Her album "Cool Yule" has been on heavy rotation for a week now. :)

I love my trashy chili pepper lights on the outside of my house and on my mantle. I love the blue beast of a tree in my living room.

I love baking. I love the way the house smells when something's in the oven. I love the way the boys pop in and out of the kitchen while it's cooling on the rack, begging for a taste or just a little piece. I love having something sweet to share with friends when the mess is made and the baking's all done.

I love clarity.

I love Chinese food and movies when the rest of the world is running like mad to be somewhere else.

I love surprises (of the non-explosive variety) in my mailbox! I don't know why, but I am always surprised when I open the box and find a card or letter in there addressed to me. It makes my day and leaves me feeling all warm, tingly, and loved. :)

I love the quiet. It doesn't happen often, but as I type, my house is blissfully silent. The boys are sleeping. The Ninja is otherwise occupied, and I'm alone with my laptop and my thoughts. Heaven.

I love my people. My life would not be the wonderland it is without your contributions to it. You keep me sane and make me crazy all at the same time, but I wouldn't have it any other way. I love you. I am thankful for you. And I hope you know that all year long.

Whether or not you're celebrating in the morning, I hope your day is an awesome one full of the things and people you love most.

Peace out, homies,
L

Fasting

This year, I decided to fast in observance of Yom Kippur. I've attempted it in the past, but have never made it through the entire 25 hour period of fasting. It was a fascinating experience. I don't enjoy being hungry. It wasn't a particularly pleasant experience. But it gave me a sense of clarity and appreciation I've not experienced before. I take a lot for granted. I indulge too much in a variety of vices and luxuries that don't exist for many. Every pang of hunger, rumble of the tummy, and wave of dizziness reminded me how fortunate I am that this is not my every day existence. It brought into sharp relief the abundance of good fortune in my life and made me think about how often I take that for granted. It caused me to consider how desperately I need to make some changes, how irresponsible I've been in some regards, and reminded me how much I have to lose if I don't.
It was a quiet day of contemplation and consideration that I don't think I'd have had otherwise.

There are some things

a father and daughter should just not discuss. Fecal sacks and breast feeding rank at the top of that list. Particularly in the same conversation.
My father observes no such boundaries or rules of decorum. Whatever pops into his fetid little head comes right out of his mouth. He called to say Happy Thanksgiving this morning, and instead read to me from his medical reports detailing all of his newest, shiniest ailments. Included in the litany of diabolical afflictions which he imagines will eventually kill him, was acute pressure on the fecal sack secondary to a slipped disk in his back, at which point he informed me "I can't stand up straight, and Ifeel like I have to shit all the time." Nice. From his pressurized ass, he ventured to my breasts and whether or not I still nurse my infant son. Ten minutes later, after hearing all about what a saint my mother was for nursing all five of us, even after we had teeth, I answered that I was, indeed, still nursing Count Latchula. For this, I received the verbal equivalent of a good game ass slap. "Ah, good girl. You know that's what they're there for. And they look nice too. Hehe. Hehe. Hehe." Good. God. Kill me now. I can't believe I share the man's DNA. I live for the day my mother tells me she had an affair and I'm her love child.

Happy Thanksgiving hookers! May you have poop-free dinner conversations!