Somehow, this entire month slipped away from me. There have been so many beautiful things — adorable moments with my kids; quiet evenings knitting or reading with my husband. There have been so many difficult things — illness, toddler tantrums, teething sleeplessness, generalized exhaustion and spread-thinness. Life currently feels like a stream churning and tumbling, overfull from snow melt. We’re keeping our heads above water (barely) and being swept along at quite a pace.

Beatrice turned 9 months old at the beginning of December. She’s such a joy: she proudly sports not one, not two, but three teeth (one on top and two on bottom). She popped her first tooth the day she turned 9 months and it’s been an intense teething fest ever since.

We can see her communication cogs churning as she grows: she waves to everyone whenever she hears the word “goodbye”, and is starting to get close to saying dog and cat (“doh” and “keh”!). She is very strong willed (I know we’re ALL surprised) and screeches like a pterodactyl when thwarted. Recently, she’s also started growling and loves to growl back and forth with anyone who will indulge her. Her favorite toys are the tv remote, my unattended phone, pens, and any of her brother’s cars or trains.

Michael is a whirlwind of energy, opinions, love, rage, and giggles. His current obsession is quacking like a duck at the top of his lungs — I admit I’m eager for this obsession to end. He recently discovered Thomas the Tank Engine and loves it with all of his toddler heart. We watch the old classic episodes on YouTube and he reenacts them with his train sets. He’s continued to be hilarious and give us fun quotes to record for posterity. Here are some recent ones:

After I gave him his advent calendar chocolate: Me: Michael, you have to put it in your mouth! His reply? “Not yet! I’m thinking about it!”

As we fought off yet another cold, I heard this exchange during bedtime routine: Michael sniffled and forlornly asked Jake: “I want a new nose 😦 Can I have yours, Dada?”. Jake, also sick: “You don’t want mine, mine isn’t any better.” Michael thought for a moment, then said: “How about mama’s?”

I told Michael to stop playing with the humidifier and he indignantly said, watching the clouds billow from it: “It’s not FIRE. It’s just smoke!”

We’ve tried to indulge in some fun holiday festivities now that Michael is old enough to remember the wonder and joy of it. Saint Nicholas paid us a visit and left Michael some treats in his shoes. We made a gingerbread house all together, and Beatrice was enamored with Christmas lights. At our homeschool co-op we celebrated St Lucia day, and Michael made a “Starboy” crown.

We walked down one of the streets in town that puts on quite a light show, and Michael loved seeing the Grinch and Rudolph (his two favorite Christmas movies) lit up everywhere.

My siblings came home for Christmas — Uncle Jon has especially been a snuggly favorite.

We had our annual carol sing, and we loved singing old hymns together around the piano with friends and family.

Unfortunately, immediately afterwards a nasty cold swept through our households, knocking us down one by one. It was nice to be healthy for the first three weeks of December, but we’re all looking forward to being well again. Continual sickness is quite discouraging. At least my immediate family was able to make it to Liturgy for the Nativity before we got struck with it too.

I managed to finish Michael’s Christmas vest in time, but Beatrice’s sweater is woefully unfinished. I’ll try to finish it before her first birthday instead. So enjoy a picture of Michael being a ham and posing with his new vest. It’s made out of a gorgeous yarn my parents brought back from Ireland.

Christmas was a joy, despite half of us being ill. Christmas Eve we opened presents with the immediate family in matching pjs. Beatrice delighted in wrapping paper and tags more than the actual gifts. Michael overflowed with energy and excitement as he unwrapped trucks and trains galore.

Christmas Day some of us were well enough to celebrate with our cousins, and we had a delightful time laughing and eating delicious food together. I love watching my cousins become “aunties and uncles” to my babies.

Uncle James visited us for a few days before Christmas, then came back to spend time with us after Christmas too! Michael is thrilled to have someone to play trains with him, and they’ve been doing bedtime stories and prayers together every night.

Jake got a handful of lock-picking tools for Christmas, and James and Jake have been practicing their lock-picking skills every night this week (with Michael even joining in for a moment). They have practice locks, but have also been working on our front door. Nothing is safe from their puzzle-loving minds.

And now we’re in the liminal space between Christmas and New Years, trying to kick this illness and enter 2025 healthy. I’m proud of some of my personal accomplishments in 2024. I successfully held to a moratorium on yarn-buying for the entire year. Everything I knitted this year was made from gifted yarn or yarn purchased in 2023. And I made quite a lot of knits! You can check out my Ravelry page for the complete list, but I finished 19 different projects and have 5 in various stages of completion. I also finally, after four years of trying, hit my Goodreads goal of reading 50 books this year. I’m trying for 55 in 2025!

I have resolutions for the new year, but I’m holding them gently, like eggshells in my cupped hands. The end of this year has been a difficult one in many ways. I’m learning my limitations, and seeing just how much I need to grow in holiness to be a good mother and wife. I’m learning to treat myself gently, not like a machine to be run into the ground. And I’m learning to be present, to “be joyful though you have considered all the facts”, to quote Wendell Berry.

I’ll end with this poem by Wendell Berry that has been very fitting for my stage in life: a stage of constant movement and of standing still and waiting, a stage of beginning; getting up again and again.

Thanksgiving was a blessing; a bright day that broke through the fog of the surrounding weeks. Leading up to Thanksgiving, we’d been fighting mild colds, handling some stressful personal decisions, and helping my great-aunt recover from pneumonia.

My in-laws came for the week, which was a delight! Watching Michael bake with Oma and Beatrice cook with Opa was a highlight for me. We enjoyed sitting by the fire pit and playing games in the evenings — Michael especially loved Opa reading to him in funny voices from his dogmatic theology book.

Uncle James was a life saver and became a fast favorite playmate of Michael’s. He played cello (even figuring out how to play Farmer in the Dell for an insistent toddler), watched both kids so I could rest after a particularly rough night of sleep, and built endless railroad tracks and blanket forts.

It was also great to spend time with my siblings, who came home for a few days. I love watching them love my babies.

On Thanksgiving Day we had nearly 30 people around our tables — we were supposed to have more, but there were some unexpected illnesses and hospitalizations that prevented some from coming.

It’s a Thanksgiving tradition for us to dress nicely and take photos with friends and family. I think we got some great pictures, despite feeling under the weather. We got some great family shots for our Christmas card! And some hilarious outtakes too. Michael is quite a ham, and has learned to do fake grimaces when told to “smile”.

Unfortunately, directly after Thanksgiving Jake got a cold and I came down with a nasty flu. The flu spread to my parents and grandparents, though it thankfully missed the kids. But now both Michael and Beatrice have miserable runny noses and coughs, so we’re hunkering down yet again to weather out these illnesses. After nearly three weeks of sickness, all of us are anxious to be healthy again.

And now we’re in Advent. We’ve already been in the midst of the Nativity Fast since mid November, but as a family we still wait til the first Sunday of Advent to break out the Christmas decorations — a way we embrace both our Eastern and Western faith heritage.

Despite illness, we put up some Christmas decorations, and even put lights up outside for the first time since we moved here. Beatrice was quite excited by the sight of her first Christmas tree and tried to put everything in her mouth. Michael enjoyed watching Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer a bit more than he enjoyed decorating the tree, and has a new affinity for hot cocoa.

I had to explain the concept of stockings when Michael asked why we had “socks” hanging from the bookshelves. When I said that they’d have small gifts and treats to eat on Christmas Day, his response was, “like peanut butter and jelly?”

He’s had some more adorable “toddlerisms” lately.

My current favorite is him yelling at me from his room, “Come on Mama, I need someone to keep an eye on me!”

Whenever the dogs bark, he runs to the window or door proclaiming, “I’ll check it out!”

He asked if we could lock Bea up “in the cat’s room” (our laundry room) because she kept getting into his toys.

He also threw his wooden play food stick of butter into the air, happily screeching “ButterFLY!” over and over — I’m not sure who taught him that.

When he’s upset or pouting, he forlornly says, “I can’t do ANYTHING at ALL”.

After Opa finished helping him build a railroad track: “Opa! I’m so proud of you!”

And much to my chagrin, another recent quote was: “QUIET! My mama gets too much grumpy if it’s too loud.”

Advent has always been my favorite liturgical season. The more experience I have with my own human failings and with grief, the more I appreciate the quiet contemplation of Advent. I think of the refrain of the faithful: Come, Lord Jesus. The cry of Advent, the cry of the Church as we wait for the Second Coming. It contains such grief and pain, and yet such fierce hope and joy.

I just finished reading The Winter Pascha by Fr Thomas Hopko, which walks through the different celebrations and hymns of the Nativity fast and feast. It was beautiful and a much needed balm for my soul.

I’m in a season of life where I’m spread pretty thinly — like butter over too much bread, to paraphrase Tolkien. We’re learning as a family what we need to take care of ourselves physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually. I’m trying to learn my limitations before I run into them face-first, and often failing.

I’m reminded of my favorite poem by John Milton: Sonnet 19, written as he was going blind.

When I consider how my light is spent, 

   Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide, 

   And that one Talent which is death to hide 

   Lodged with me useless, though my Soul more bent 

To serve therewith my Maker, and present 

   My true account, lest he returning chide; 

   “Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?” 

   I fondly ask. But patience, to prevent 

That murmur, soon replies, “God doth not need 

   Either man’s work or his own gifts; who best 

   Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His state 

Is Kingly. Thousands at his bidding speed 

   And post o’er Land and Ocean without rest: 

   They also serve who only stand and wait.”

Sonnet 19, John Milton

Like Milton, I’m fighting despondency at my limitations. But who best bear his mild yoke, they serve him best.

This Advent, I don’t have much to offer. I am among those Milton references in that beautiful last line: they also serve who only stand and wait. Right now, all I’m doing — all I can do — is sit with these profound mysteries of the Church in the slivers of silence I have to myself, and pray.

Come, Lord Jesus.