Miracle Season

First: Thanks so much to Renee for putting together this blogging collective for #HanukkahHoopla.  I've cyber-met some fabulous, inspiring people who also happen to be fabulous, inspiring writers.  (Actually, I'm completely humbled and wonder where they find the time to be so smart.)  That said, it's pretty tough stuff following in their footsteps on this, the very last day of the #HanukkahHoopla posts.  See below the post for information on how you (YOU!) can still win some excellent prizes.

click here!

No matter what you celebrate, it's the season when we contemplate miracles.  It's also the season of list-making, so this is my nod to the holiday in the form of a list of miracles.   (By the way, one bizzare and amazing event in a women's bathroom, a few weekends ago, kicked off a new appreciation for finding the miraculous in the mundane, or better, in the everyday.)

Here's a breakdown of the tiny and not-so-tiny miracles I had the fortune of witnessing or experiencing each day of Hanukkah.  {Please note: I don't intend to throw the word around carelessly.  The following are just little meaningful moments in my world in the past week.}

We celebrated the first night of Hanukkah at our friends' house.  Dani and Larry had a baby ten weeks ago--several weeks premature.  He was all of four pounds at birth--the weight of three sweet potatoes.  When I first held him, his tiny head fit in my palm, his skinny body rested on my forearm.  Now, this baby is smiling at us, looking in our eyes, following our voices as we move.  He is mastering the art of eating.  The delicacy of a newborn, its vulnerability and even its form continue to amaze me. 

2nd night:  O.k.  This is less appealing than the sweetness of a quiet newborn, but my husband and I endured 20 minutes of letting our 15-month-old son cry-it-out.  Twice.  Two nights in a row, last week.  Here's a boy who has slept through the night only twice since his birth, and because his wail is absolutely sound-barrier-shattering, we've become accustomed to rushing into his room at the first sign of what sounds like a major cribside meltdown, hoping to prevent waking our neighbors and his very patient, three-year-old sister.  I'm not sure why we waited 15 months and 40 minutes until we taught our son that he's going to need to learn how to fall back to sleep on his own, but it worked, and that was the gift we gave ourselves this Hanukkah.  A kid who sleeps through the night.  Hallelujah.

3rd night: The sunset turned the sky pink for a millisecond, though mostly, it was totally overcast.  It was a dramatic sky, the kind that used to inspire sweeping brushstrokes in painters (maybe it still does).  And I caught it.  It was a deific moment in an otherwise cloudy day.  Never underestimate the power of looking up.

4th night:  The last day of school before winter break, and my students were just wrapping up their book presentations (they'd each been reading books independently since school began).  It was awesome to see how a good book could inspire the most reticent or unmotivated student to talk so emphatically and honestly about why we all should read it.   I loved watching some of my quieter students break their safety shells and speak so directly and passionately.  The power of great books!  (Yes, I've borrowed and am reading The Hunger Games so that I'm not the last person on the planet to pick it up.)

5th night: It was Christmas Eve, and we had plans to go out to dinner with a bunch of friends.  We were saying good bye to a newlywed couple, the Mrs. of which I've known since kindergarten, who are bound for another city to begin their married lives together.  We all reminisced over dessert about our good times together, and as we parted for the night, promising to stay in touch and see each other whenever possible, my old friend remarked that of course we would.  We've known each other for a hundred years, my friend said, so you're stuck with me for a hundred more.   In an age of transience--and in this stage of our lives--starting families, working, etc., it is somewhat miraculous that some friendships will persevere no matter what.  Auld Lang Syne.


6th night:  Really, it was afternoon.  The kids napped.  I'm on vacation:  I napped, for two hours.  No interruptions.  That was the first real nap I've had in over a year.  Holy wonderful, that was.

And here we are, the seventh night.  My husband and I are in the middle of reorganizing the living room around the kids' toys (no, we don't have a finished basement nor a separate playroom).  We are putting away the things they loved as babies and making room for the more sophisticated stuff, like Cinderella's coach and a Bat Cave.  And we're talking about their growth and their humor, how we'll miss some of these baby toys because they remind us of their fleeting stages.  We do not define ourselves by our stuff, but we are able to look around--at pictures, at books, at socks left out before bedtime, at the odd doll shoe someone will be looking for tomorrow.  We can't help but be so thankful for our immediate and extended family, for the chaos that we can't help but live in, and for each other, who we cannot live without.  I continue to marvel at my luck in finding my soulmate.  Somehow the path we're on is punctuated by little miracles.  I only hope to continue to have the prescience to notice them.

Happy Hanukkah, all!  And Happy New Year, too.  Now, go check out Frume Sarah’s World @frumesarah.   

Below, leave me a comment about the miracles, big, small, barely there, that you noticed this past holiday week--and enter to win some cyberswag!

I would like to thank Streit’s and Doni Zasloff Thomas a.k.a. Mama Doni, the lead singer/songwriter of The Mama Doni Band for providing each of the 16 bloggers involved in #HanukkahHoopla with a little cyberswag.

How can you win? Leave me an awesome comment. On January 5, 2012, I will select one winner at random. Be sure to subscribe to my blog or subscribe to comments on this page so you can find out if you are the winner! If I don’t hear from you within 48 hours, I will select another winner.

Prefer to be contacted via Twitter? Leave your Twitter handle in your comment and I will tweet you if you win.

Not interested in winning? You can still leave a comment! I love to read your words. Just write: “No prize necessary” in your comment.

Don’t make me work too hard to find you. That will make me kvetchy.