Holiday Spoon Club, The Story Behind the Name

Holidays growing up were always vibrant. My family has a strange sense of humour and a lot of emotional baggage bumping about. Like many families, once people were rosy and cheerful from food and spirits, emotions could get going. Old hurts bubble up or are remembered or haven't healed from the year before. Later in my life my family would invite people without family near to our home to share our meal- sounds generous, but the main benefit was that it made family drama near impossible because one does not dysfunction in front of strangers. Well, not usually.

So I never really knew what to expect. That is one of my main anxieties about the holidays, really, is that when people get emotional and then in close quarters things can get complicated quickly.

My senior year we had family in town and someone decided to make the stuffing a bit "greener" than usual, or that's how the story has evolved. It is possible that alcohol reacted to my 90 something year old Nebraskan grandmother's medication, but that makes a less dramatic story I suppose. Whatever it was, I would neither eat something cooked in a Turkey's butt cavity (still won't, I know that my real food friends are laughing at me right now....) nor did I drink. At some point in our lovely meal my grandmother launched out of her seat and crawled over the table, grabbed me by my collar and called me a lesbian liberal slut.

Of course there were no words I could offer. Lack of oxygen was the main reason. Once she let go and I realized everyone was laughing hysterically, I slipped out the door, got in my car, and headed for coffee.

Yay Thanksgiving.

Some years after that I attended Thanksgiving again at my families home, but this time I was newly wed, still childless. My mother and I were not on good terms, probably because of her dislike of my husband. My siblings were still in high school and the house was full of strangers. That meant the drama was more of the mock each other cruelly variety.

At some point I could not take it. I couldn't leave either. I couldn't eat either, not trusting what could be in the main meal food ingredients. I grabbed a pie from the buffet, a pecan cream cheese pie with lard and butter crust. I took the whole pie to the front parlour of their Victorian home and seated myself as hidden as I could from the main walkways and I started eating it with my fingers and crying.

The chaos continued to run through the house, folks laughing and children running and playing and laughing and the holiday tension building. Pie. Pie was making it better. Pie was making me forget infertility and the pull between in-laws and my family, the jealousies, the financial struggles of being a college student and buying a house and being newly wed and having my family not like my husband and at the same time pressuring us to have kids and mocking us for not being able to and everything else.

My mom's friend Mel came in the room and stood there silent for a moment and then left.

Busted. Oh no. I tried to compose myself, wipe tears off my face, the smears of cream cheese too.

But no. She brought spoons. Not one, but two. Together we sat there and ate the pie, quietly. When it was done she made the plate disappear and she gave me a hug. There was no mention again of the pie, when it was noticed missing, she helped cover up my crime. Unlike family, she did not mock me or hold it against me later.

And that year for Christmas? She gifted me a single spoon. So like a space traveller, who should never be without a towel, do not go into the holidays without your spoon.

Raise your spoons higher my friends and eat that pie. If you see someone in need of a spoon? Get the spoon for them. This is how someone brought peace to my holiday.

So the affirmation for today? We've all been there. You are not alone. I am not alone. Our stories are all different, they all have value. Dysfunctional families are everywhere, but so is pie. 

Simple but powerful words.

Holly's Art (aka ADORABLE!)

Spoon Club Affirmations

Whoa baby. The holidays are here. Even those who don't believe in religion or celebrate the traditions can't seem to escape the stress and the pressure and the chaos of the next six weeks. The upcoming events affect all of us in a negative way- traffic patterns are disrupted, shopping for everyday items are complicated, the weather here in the Midwest can also get treacherous, and people seem to be more bah humbug than joy to the world.

If you do partake in the holiday events and traditions? Oh my. That's just asking for it.

Asking for what?

Well, that depends on you. No. Really.

I'm not saying this because I am one of those chipper elves that dons the jingle bells and wears ugly sweaters all year long. I am. That's beside the point. The holidays have always been a horrible time for me. I love giving gifts. I love decorating. I love and I mean LOVE the food traditions. I love Santa and elves and snow and everything Christmas.

Except I don't. 

I hate how people get so stressed out. I hate how the food makes people sad instead of full. I hate how giving gifts means the next year is spent trying to catch up on the credit card bill. I hate how choosing whose house to go to is like the Mason Dixon Line of family feuds. I hate the mall. I hate the traffic. I hate the holiday station that I want to love but they play the same 8 Christmas songs over and over again and two of them are the same song just different versions/eras and I have at least 200 good ones on my iPod I left at home to choose from. I hate the look of disappointment when I give a handmade gift. I hate the look even more when it is something my child has made special. I hate that everyone is super ramped up and they all take it out on strangers, especially on the Internet.

So, friends, I am going to get on here everyday and write out a special message. Any of you who are right here with me on this holiday edge can play along. Anyone who isn't? Find someone who is and give them a pie or a hug or a pie hug, ok? Let's do our best to bring peace into each others lives, shine a light to those who are battling the darkness and the dragons, and make folks who have no family or no family who wants them feel loved, and then let's keep this generosity going long after the holidays. It isn't just a soup kitchen on Thanksgiving gesture- this needs to be for real and for always. Let;s just start with today though. Who's with me? I am going to call it the Holiday Chaos Spoon Club (and I'll share with you why tomorrow....)

Today I will remember that no matter how I live my life, friends and family and strangers will think I am weird. I will live my life for me instead. I will dye my hair purple and live in an RV if that brings me happiness. I will shave my head and hula hoop on the beach if that brings me happiness. I will blog like no one is reading. I will do what I love. 

I will remember this as I attend family and social events where the things I love are criticised. I will love myself and my life anyway.

It isn't a perfect start, but it what was in my head after I spoke with my friend Ashley this afternoon. I remember thinking these same things as I was making the decision to go to college to study poetry, then when I decided to get married, when I decided to have children, buy an old run down house, and then move to a farm. Every decision I made was ridiculed, critiqued, and I was made to feel incapable. Clearly, I am capable. What if I had listened.

Oh. I have listened actually. I stopped blogging after months of a friend making snide remarks about it. I gave that piece of myself away and I can't get it back. I allowed it to be stolen from my children, a record of their lives. How stupid is that? Why did I care so much what other people thought? So what if my pictures are messy, if my content is varied and unfocused, and you know who cares about my thoughts? Me! So again, I blog like no one is reading and that means it is messy and varied and pictures of food and crayons and piles of laundry and pigs and piles of crayons and more pigs and sometimes sheep too. I make mistakes. I love pie.

I wanted to perform street poetry in San Francisco. I didn't go. I was scared and let the critics feed those fears. I wanted to travel but listened to my friends tell me that it would be hard to do with Lily when she was two, even though our first two trips were wonderful, I had this nagging sense that they were right. I just worry about you. Those were the subtle underminings that were all it took. I let it. I let it crash my self esteem. Why?

I. Me. I let it. I can't even say never again. Why? Because I am human.

So, hold you head high and your spoons higher. Let's have some pie!

Dancing Barefoot in the Snow, Recovered

 Sometimes life can get overwhelming. I read this week about a friend who used to sword fight barefoot in the snow and she said it wasn't so bad if you keep moving. (Hopes she reads this and then reminds me who she is so I can give proper credit! I think it was.....someone in Iowa City?)

Yes.

That is what I feel like. If I keep moving, it doesn't hurt so much. If I am always learning, doing, dancing, playing.....then the things in my life that hurt will just fade into the background and I can keep fighting the dragons (and the windmills) that threaten to swallow me whole.

Special needs parenting is hard. If I stop and think, what will life be like in 10 years, I get burned alive with worry. Worry that ruins my today. Jealousy? For so many of my special needs parenting friends it can be devastating and paralysing to see the lives that others are leading, lives that they wanted for their family but will never have. I'm not there yet. I still can't imagine that Isaac's life won't be completely beautiful and that anyone could exclude or harm him. I mean, I know it is possible, but it isn't real yet because it has never really happened. When he was one, the fact that he was just barely crawling made some lady at a birthday party embarrassed that she asked how old he was, but that barely counts. You know? Yeah. I know in my head that worse is yet to come for all three of my children, but it has not happened yet so I can still believe in faeries and unicorns.

Farming is hard. I can't even think more than one season ahead right now, because weather and predation, and customer base determine what will happen year to year. We have to plan ahead, prepare for both the best and the worst and keep moving. It helps that we have amazing customers who support our efforts and cheer us on like family. We are so grateful for that. So grateful. Y'all have no idea how much that means to us.

Marriage is hard. Everyday we work on encouraging the gifts, talents, and interests that we both have. We work on better parenting our children together. We plan. We prepare. Like the farm though, things can change in a blink of an eye (farm accidents are on my mind right now as my neighbour is currently in the hospital after a life threatening accident) and if we dwell too much on the what ifs, we can't grow in the present. Just keep those feet moving and swords and plough shares sharp.

So my practise has been to stay in the moment, find the simple joys in the day we are in. Photograph it if I can. I have talked a couple times about this blog being love letters to my children. I mean that. I hope that if they ever have only these writings to know me by, that they will know they are loved and cherished. Knowing that is so important as you set off into the world. You know?

So that said, here are a few beauties from today.

I love this green on the fresh split maple. Maple is my favourite wood to burn, makes the house smell like caramel.

Holly loves My Little Ponies. She also loves dumping things out.

Isaac was figuring out if a golf ball fit in the trap door. It did. Over and over again.

Lily worked on Christmas gifts. She told me the best part of Christmas is making and giving gifts. She will probably do this for the next 3 months. Seriously. She loves it so much.

We sorted crayons, clay, scissors, and paper today.

Isaac's favourite cars.

Holly suited up and played outside for almost 3 hours. She knocked icesicles off of things, broke ice sheets, and made snow goblins.

Then she came inside and got to work building me a stationary bike. Love that girl.

Every day is a chance to start over, breathe deep in gratitude. Things may look impossible tomorrow and they may even be impossible, but I try not to let it ruin today. I am grateful for my friends, for my "secret gang of girls in my phone" (thanks Naptime is For Drinking for giving it a name), for pie, for snow, for firewood, for little boy laughs and smiles, for "Itsy Bitsy Spider", and for my family.

I am thankful for both my daughters. They make me laugh and cry and dance with joy.

I am thankful for an abundance of food.

I am thankful for our farm. I love this house, I love the warmth and the design and the location. Since I am home bound through most of the winter, I am also thankful that I enjoy living here.

I am thankful I can read. To build on that, I am thankful for an abundance of books. I will be reading a lot this winter.

I an thankful for good friends, both near and far.  Friends that I can count on and friends that I can just be me with. Sometimes that includes the frustrated, angry me. True friends, including my lovely husband, take us for who we are and not just on the sunshiny days. I think that most people might only have the kind of friend that walks on eggshells and is always nice. That's nice too, but when things get rough it is really good to have the kind of friends that will just let you be angry or sad or weepy or cranky and still be your friend. You know?

I am thankful for my husband.

Every day we say what we are thankful for at our meals together. It was really got me thinking about how gratitude brings peace to the table.

What are you grateful for?