Rebecca the Red Nosed Reindeer and Other Stories of Holiday Magic

So I have Nasal Vestibulitis. It's a "rare type of bacterial infection at the opening of the nose." It makes the tip of my nose swollen, tender, and very red.

"I look like a clown," I lamented to James a few nights ago.

"Or," he responded, "in this holiday season, you could say you look like..."

Rudolph. I look like Rudolph. I've dubbed it Rudolph's Disease and sing extra loud when the song comes up on my Christmas playlist.

Yay for makeup

I went to the doctor on Monday and got topical and oral antibiotics. Apparently my tiny red nose requires multiple meds, plus a probiotic and decongestant because it was probably caused by me constantly squeezing my nose to clear it due to my chronically retracted ear drums. So now I have a chart because the oral antibiotics are 4x a day, while the topical is 2x a day, and the probiotic is only once but not within 2 hours of the antibiotic. It's ridiculous; all for a swollen little tip of a nose.

But it's timely, not only because we're almost upon Rudolph's night to shine, but because it was exactly 7 years ago yesterday that I, a 30-year-old well-read lawyer, googler, and mother of 3, first learned that reindeer were real.

[Scene: Visiting the Dallas Arboretum on a freezing day with all three kids, including our tiny 6-week old baby (#ThirdKid), to see Santa.]

Me: Oh look kids! It's Santa and one of his reindeer! *wink wink*

[The kids said hi to Vixen and then walked off with James to see Santa.]

Me, to the handler who almost certainly wasn't being paid enough: So, what animal is it really?

Handler: Um, it's a reindeer ma'am.

Me, motioning to the absent children: It's okay, you can tell me, they can't hear you.

Handler: Um, this is a reindeer.

Me, equally annoyed and impressed at the commitment to holiday magic: Yeah, okay.

[I walk off to join James.]

Me: So I tried to find out what kind of animal the pretend reindeer is, but the guy wouldn't tell me!

James: Um, that's a reindeer.

Me: Ugh, stop it! I really want to know!

James: Wait... do you not know that reindeer are real?

Me, googling: Oh my god.

James, dies of laughter. [End scene.]

The kids love that story and honestly, so do I. It's like the time I learned in college that snakes can climb stairs. I grew up in a house that bordered a forest and small creek. Snakes were a frequent guest in our yard and occasionally made it into the house via our cat. And while I liked snakes and often caught the garden variety ones to temporarily house in an old aquarium on our porch, I had one night where I guess I got scared that one would appear in my bed. My dad, probably tired and wanting alone time with my mom, told me snakes can't climb stairs. I took this as gospel truth and stubbornly believed it for YEARS despite knowing on some other level of my brain that snakes often live in very tall trees. My freshman year of college someone was telling a story about a snake that was found in an attic and I said, "No, they couldn't have; snakes can't climb stairs." There was also laughing- it's good to be humbled every now and then and I totally yelled at my dad the next time we talked on the phone.

But back to Christmas! While this is a strange and socially distant holiday season, we have been able to check off a few of our favorite traditions! Claire was able to perform in the 5th grade play, a mask-wearing, socially distant play that the music teacher filmed in small spread-out groups and then spliced dozens of video clips together because she is amazing and wanted to give the 5th graders a final play. Claire played "Mom" and Maggie played the puppy the little boy wants for Christmas and it was the very cutest.

The girls had their much anticipated annual Pajama Reading Day at school on Friday.

And I still got to read them our favorite Christmas book, Christmas Delicious, via Zoom from our living room. I wore my pajamas in solidarity, and not just because I'm pretty much always in pajamas. It was so special to still be able to read to them and I was surprisingly sentimental about the fact this was Claire's last PJ Reading Day. When Landon graduated 5th grade it felt okay since I had Cora about to start Kindergarten the next year, but now I'll just have one baby in elementary school and that seems impossible and gives me lots of feelings.

Maggie and Moose were also featured in the Zoom reading and the girls were so excited to show them to their classmates. It was a fun kick off to Winter Break for them.

Later that day, Moose got to open his stocking early and he was very excited about his new toys.

In other new toys, James designed holiday suits and they are the cutest.

Cora also wanted you to see her outfit for going out to net leaves from the pool.

On Monday we went to see Santa on my lunch break!

Maggie came too obviously. She's a Believer.

Cora wants a puppy, which is a hard no, so hopefully she'll be satisfied with legos, a marble run, and the perfect angel of a bulldog we already have.

My constant companion, she is beauty and grace and pure wrinkly love.

Also, pure love: my shipment of Twinings tea that got delivered yesterday. This is what happens when your friend recommended a tea you can't get in any nearby stores and the free shipping minimum is $50.

$51 and 13 boxes of tea later and I have quite the assortment now living in my old built-in wine storage rack. The Christmas Tea is perfection and Winter Spice and Peppermint Cheer are also lovely.

And while gingerbread houses aren't our usual treadition, a friend gifted us an extra set and the kids were very excited to put it together. They divided it into sections for decorating and then begged to eat it.

We tried to warn them that gingerbread houses don't usually taste like the soft, chewy, amazing gingerbread cookies their Gigi makes, but parents don't know anything.

Except when they do.

Their reactions cracked me up. They ate all the candy, we tossed the house, and considered it a successful holiday project. Then we drove around the neighborhood singing loudly to the Raffi Christmas album and admiring the lights. I'm on Day 62 and it's been a good month so far.

[I should also add that I am so enjoying and appreciating your comments and feedback. Each comment email that pops up in my inbox during the day is like a little hug from the outside world and it's the best. I've gone back to respond to the ones from the last few posts, but in case I missed any, I just wanted to say thank you for still being here when I wanted to write again and I wish you the Happiest of Holidays and a Joyful New Year.]

Day 50

Hi! So, in what has turned out to be a highlight of 2020, I stopped drinking alcohol in October.

It was the immediate result of one night out on a patio with two friends where I let the intoxating rush of socialization and frozen margaritas lead me to actually drink enough to become intoxicated and when I got back home I was a total asshole to the one person who matters most to me, which is what happens any time I drink too much which is why I am usually so very careful not to do so. It's been years since I have. Lots of them, but bam, there I was, acting like the person you root against in any movie.

It was also the longer result of spending 225 days at home and pouring a glass of wine at the end of each and every one. At some point in the middle, I wondered if I should get back to my New Year's resolution of only drinking on the weekends. And at some point three-quarters of the way through I realized I was never going to do that and perhaps I was no longer the person in charge of deciding whether to drink that glass of wine each night. While I think you can absolutely have a drink every night and be fully in charge of that decision, I was setting goals each weekday morning I absolutely knew I would (and then did) break and thus going to bed each night annoyed at and disappointed in myself. And even though it was usually only one, it was always one and the mere survival to the end of every day seemed to justify it, regardless of my true wants or intentions.

And so I stopped. Completely.

Interestingly, it was considerably easier than my previous failed attempts at moderation and other rules and lines. I'll also note, because I want to be honest, that knowing how much I had hurt someone and something very precious to me on the night of my last drink was an overwhelming motivational force in what would likely have been a hard first week of breaking a very ingrained habit. But I can say that by week two, even once back on an even keel in my marriage, the pull of the evening glass of wine was so much less. And by week three, I simply no longer expected it in my transition from afternoon to evening. It stopped being weird to make a new cup of tea while cooking dinner or to have one while watching a movie before bed. Somewhere in there I was thinking about drinking less and less until I realized it had been more than a month since I'd had one- quite a bit more than one really, and each day no longer felt like a milestone. I also realized that the last time I'd gone a month - frankly the last time I'd gone a week - without alcohol was when I was pregnant. And the result of my last pregnancy was 7 years ago. And it felt good.

I've developed new routines and new habits. I rearranged our kitchen to put all my tea mugs in their own special place where the wine glasses used to be. I created a tea drawer for my expanding collection and it makes me happy every morning (and afternoon and evening) when I use both. I treated myself to two new mugs and may have made myself one covered in pictures of Maggie for my Christmas stocking.

I've been living for my tea advent calendar that provides me with new teas to try each morning and my instant hot water dispenser that rocks my whole world every time I use it (and I use it a LOT). I've enjoyed Elderflower Cordial with lime seltzer when I want something fancy and am probably well hydrated for the first time in years. Being without the usual social whirl and happy hours and parties has probably made it easier, but then again, it was the being home all the time that led to that 5:30 pour seeming so essential. I've made it through Halloween, Election Night, Thanksgiving, Fridays, Hump Days, hard days, long days, and great days, all alcohol free.

And here I am at my 50th day.

James surprised me with flowers and a dealcoholized champagne the guy at Specs told him was "pretty good" (side note: that was probably James's first time in a Specs since college; ironic) and we'll toast with it over Thai takeout later tonight.

I honestly don't know what my long-term plan is with this. Initially I told myself I'd stop for 100 days, just to have some sort of goal, but now I think I'll abstain for as long as I work from home. I know I mention it every post, but being home just isn't great for me. I'm back in therapy and back on Prozac and I think that *I* am back again after being lost for a bit, but it's hard. The actual logistics have been good- I've got a great set-up in our bedroom, and calls, meetings, and even on-the-record sworn testimony work seamlessly. I'm on great cases, talking and video chatting regularly with great, smart people, and I'm really enjoying my job, but it's just hard. I miss all the human interaction I took for granted before - the stops at Starbucks, people popping by my office, going to lunch midday, stopping at TCU to teach or my yoga studio for some hot yoga - I was woven in the fabric of this vibrant urban suburban community and I miss every single thread of it.

I may try to add alcohol back into my life in a post-pandemic world; I may get to that point and realize my life is better without it. But at Day 50 it feels incredibly good and simply normal to be sipping my pumpkin spice rooibus tea after logging off from work at 5:30. And in this year, I'm thankful for something that feels good and normal, for something that has made me create new habits, and for something that has made me feel proud and strong and whole every day for fifty days.

The Great Pumpkin (Village) and a Random Mental Health Update

We've been going to the Dallas Arboretum Pumpkin Village since 2013 when I was 8 months pregnant with Cora and looked like I was smuggling a pumpkin out under my shirt. It is one of my absolute favorite things we and I was very worried that we weren't going to be able to make it happen this year. But! On a Saturday where James had to be in Lewisville (north of Dallas) for an International Swim League meet at 2 p.m., Claire had a volleyball game at the downtown YMCA in Fort Worth at 2 p.m., and Landon was supposed to go to a friend's house before Claire's game so they could go to Six Flags Fright Fast, we found a spot in our morning schedule and at 8 a.m. off to Dallas we went! In separate cars with swim meet supplies, sleepover stuff, and volleyball gear stashed in the back of each one.

Girls' car; we arrived first

We were in the parking lot about 8:45 a.m., through the membership line roughly two minutes later, and were immediately greeted with this year's theme: Charlie Brown and the Great Pumpkin.

And it was GREAT!

The weather was gorgeous- bright blue skies and that magical temperature where no one needs a jacket and no one is sweating.

I got my required "all the kids on the pumpkins" picture, which looks increasingly funny as they get ever bigger and the pumpkins stay the same size.

And then the kids were set free to play- heading as they always do over to the hay maze, turning it in to a raucous game of tag that ends up absorbing at least five other kids around them.

James and I hung back, admiring the decorative gourds and laughing at the fact that our kids are bigger, older, and always moving at 100 mph, but are still very happy to play together for hours on a foot-tall hay bale lined path.

We wandered around the village, catching a glimpse of a kid or two of ours along the way. At one point, Cora tapped me and requested a picture of her "sitting right here on this pumpkin like this."

Nailed it.

Then Claire decided she needed a solo shot.

Landon was annoyed they'd both taken a break from tag.

After deciding we'd seen all the pumpkins we needed to see, and watching many a harried parent try to wrangle their toddlers into a picture (been there! like this year when Cora decided pumpkins were terrifying and not to be touched or trusted. now I can just yell at them to assemble, snap a picture, and let them loose), we meandered on to our other favorite parts of the Arboretum.

Like the frog fountains.

Somewhat tucked back in a corner, these have been beloved by our crew from day one. Of course everyone has to touch the water and everyone has to get a little wet.

Watching, from a safe and dry place, makes me so happy.

Look at Cora's face- pure joy.

We continued on, James and I strolling, the kids racing up and back on the winding paths. We went to the lake, found many ponds, discovered new flowers and corners and paths we hadn't found before (or, more likely, had simply forgotten).

At my personal favorite spot- the tree arched walkway, we witnessed a proposal, complete with professional photographer and all the friends waiting in the wings. The girls thought it was amazing and Landon declared it embarrassing. It was a really beautiful spot and the bride-to-be looked surprised and delighted (and said yes immediately).

We walked some more. I joked to James that it's going to be weird when someday the kids slow down and actually walk with us. Except by then, they probably won't want to go with us at all? It's hard to imagine not traveling everywhere as a fast and laughing (and tagging) pack of five, but then I look at my 12-year-old mantween, and I feel like those years aren't really that far away. And they'll be fun too, but there's something special about traveling as a party pack and I'm committed to finding the time to do more of the little local adventures we used to do so often.

After we had our fill of pumpkins and gorgeous gardens, we went to our favorite Austin restaurant, Taco Deli, which has expanded to Dallas but refuses to come to Fort Worth. We ordered approximately 85 tacos (maybe 15) and devoured them all before James headed north for his meet and I headed west with the kids. As we took Maggie for a quick walk before Claire's volleyball game I did pause to admire our own great tree, which I adore even though we spent a million dollars a year keeping it trimmed and healthy and not crushing our house. But it's gorgeous isn't it? The house was built around it 80 years ago and I feel like we're just the temporary stewards, tasked with keeping it thriving for families to play under it for decades to come.

Apropos of nothing, but this feels like the right time for a mental health update. I was weaned off the anti-depressants in July and had my last therapy appointment in August. Things are good. I hesitated to write about the changes because I didn't want to make it seem that stopping the medication or the therapy were goals of mine or should be goals for anyone else. It's just another step. My therapist's number is still saved in my phone and I have no doubt I'll give her a call for check-ins every now and then. The medication enabled me to forge new pathways of thought and reaction in my brain that were absolutely unattainable for me without it and I am deeply grateful for a therapist and doctor who worked with me to find the right medicine (we tried three brands of the same thing; the first two made gave me vertigo, headaches, and/or heartburn, the third, magically, did not) and the right dose to both get on, maintain, and then slowly wean off. It's what worked for me.

I've always believed in therapy, and after going for over a year I will say that I believe in it even more, but one thing I think people should know, because I didn't, is that therapy is HARD. It is really hard. You go in because something is making you sad or angry or anxious or is otherwise serving as an impediment to your best self and happiness and you want that thing fixed. But your history, memories, behaviors, feelings and the other people who might make you feel those things aren't in therapy. Only you are and you're the only one who can change anything about how you feel or react to those things. And it's so hard. You have to be willing to face truths about yourself, your perceptions, the fallibility and feelings of those around you, and the role you may have played in memories that hurt you and/or truths about what you can change about them. It's not a panacea and it's not a cure-all, but you- the person who walked in the room because you want things to be better- you can get better, stronger, more forgiving, more flexible, more of whatever it is you need to stop having the barriers you're currently facing. But in that room, it begins and ends with you.

And so it's work and it's hard and I was mad at it the first few times I went, but now I'm so deeply grateful. I have a different view on many things and different expectations for others. I have purged past feelings and talked and planned and practiced my words. And the medication is what allowed my brain to pause long enough to put those new plans and practices into action. Rather than spiraling into angry anxiety at triggers I didn't even realize I had, I could pause, and think- what do I want to do/say next? How do I want this to go? Or when I couldn't sleep at night because I was caught up in something I couldn't stop thinking about, I could nudge it aside juuuuust enough to put a new thought there, or to view the (probably very old and very unchangeable) thing that was bothering me in a new light. And then- because the medicine helped me to not be caught in a fight-or-flight response I never realized was happening- I could take a tiny, powerful step in a different mental direction. And then slowly, with time and practice (and medicine!), those tentative steps became natural, and my adrenaline-induced reactions of anger or upset I never realized were based in anxiety began to take a new shape.

And so here I am, flexing my new mental pathways, free (or freer) from past hurts I wanted to get over but simply couldn't, and being a better me in a number of ways I had no idea I very much needed to be.

It's still work and I'm still working, but it's good. It's remarkably good.

And so were the pumpkins.

Fitness Frenemies, Anniversaries, and other Adventures in the Last Week

Trying to blog more than once a week, I'm sneaking in a post at 11 p.m. on Thursday, a mere 6.75 days after publishing the last one! Let's seen what's happened since last Friday.

On Saturday, I woke up and dragged myself to Orangetheory for the first time in 18 months. I've gained a stubborn and clothing-size-significant 12 lbs. in those last 18 months and after spending 6 months vacillating between a resigned "the nachos are worth it" acceptance and a dark spiral of self-loathing when something new didn't fit, I decided I needed to step up my diet and exercise game.

Hello Old Frenemy

I always enjoyed the OTF workouts, it's a well-planned and intense hour, goes quickly, and is the only way I can make myself run or lift heavier weights, adding more cardio and weight-bearing exercise that I need. I'm now on the 2x/week plan and regardless of the superficial, it already feels so good to be pushed beyond my comfort zone again, even if I did have to go buy new running shoes because all my workouts have been barefoot for the last 18 months.

Speaking of my barefoot workouts, my 3rd Yoga Club Box (affiliate link!) arrived on Saturday too!

I continue to love the surprise and value of each box and the little monthly boost to my exercise drawer. This time I decided I didn't want the tie-back tank (I lay on my back a lot when I work out with yoga and barre and I don't like feeling the knot) and it was super easy to switch it out for a top I love (the same one I got last time in a different color; it's my absolutely fave) that will ship out with my next box along with a bag to send back the one I got this time. So that was nice and easy!

I'm tweaking my diet in addition to shaking up my exercise routine. Nothing crazy, but I do well with guidelines and, nachos notwithstanding, whole and healthy is my preferred way of eating. I just need to be more purposeful about all my meals. Apparently, this is 36. Ugh.

Also on Saturday, Maggie got to go to the vet! All three kids came along for emotional support, regardless of the fact that Maggie adores the vet and likes to go as often as possible.

This time it was for a goopy eye and major skin itchies. She's now on medicated eye drops and a steroid/antihistamine pill.

Oh Mags.

Then, still on Saturday, James and I went out to celebrate our 14th wedding anniversary! I had fun with Urban Decay palettes and a youtube video for my eyes and wore a bright pink dress and a necklace James gave me for Christmas several years ago.

It was the 18th anniversary of the night we met, now exactly half my life ago, which seems both impossible and exactly right. It's so amazing to sit next to a person you've been with for that long and enjoy every moment of your fancy night out.

On Sunday we were determined to reinstitute a family tradition of Sunday morning togetherness. Now that the kids sleep in, get up on their own, eat something, and watch a show together without any adult supervision, we've gotten WAY lazy about getting up to do our usual family adventures. And that's been fine- wonderful even- but we miss the purpose to our mornings, so this Sunday we were in the car and on our way to the park at 9 a.m.

It was already 90 degrees and the bulldog was panting after a few minutes, but what a lovely few minutes it was!

Looking forward to much more of this in the fall when Maggie can go on long adventures with us without a risk of instant heat stroke.

On this round she took one trip down the slide took the rest of the day off to recover.

The rest of the holiday weekend involved some workouts (OTF again!), card games, reading, movies (finally saw Avengers Endgame!!), and lots of cooking.

Landon is continuing his diligent work on Don Quixote. In his usual Landon way he's quietly going about it, armed with a plan and set pace (200 pages/week, apparently), interspersing it with shorter books of his choosing. I found this on the kitchen counter and he said he's writing major plot points so as not to forget them when it comes time for the test on the 1,000 page novel. The quiet, self-motivated, practicality of it is just 1000% Landon and it made my heart squeeze.

Tuesday was our actual anniversary and we exchanged gifts and cards at 7 a.m. while getting the three kids off to school and joining efforts to get 2 eye-drops into our objecting bulldog before I ran off to work, armed with a giant cup of hot tea and my workout bag to teach at TCU on my way home. It felt exactly right for 14 years.

James delivered flowers to my office which were a beautiful and cheerful surprise, and then I set up our "fancy picnic dinner" (as the kids have dubbed our traditional charcuterie) post-barre class and before everyone got home from swimming.

Once a tradition started before we could afford a sitter or fancy foods, the meat and cheese night is now one the kids get to join because we can have a separate fancy night out just for us on an adjoining weekend. We get a good bottle of wine and/or champagne and toast to another year, telling the kids stories of when we were dating or our early married years.

Fall 2002, the college dating years

We found our wedding DVD and fired it up for the first time in forever. The kid had never seen it and it was so fun to hear their commentary (like, "Mom! Your voice is different and so is your face! You're so beautiful!"). Fourteen years is enough time for everyone involved to look just a little different...

And so the rest of the week continued, with far less wine and cheese, and more work and the kind of busy that now feels pretty mundane. On Wednesday I bought a piece of art of our neighborhood buy/sell page and Maggie rode along to keep me company. Her little face trying to stick up to see out the window never fails to make me smile.

#ShortLegsBigHeart

Tomorrow my mom comes to visit for her birthday (yay!) and I'm taking off the afternoon to take on our local clearance Dillards with her leading the way. We have some birthday surprises for her at home and are super excited she'll be here to celebrate. As the birthday girl she'll get to pick our dinner (which will almost certainly be Mellow Mushroom pizza), but here's our other meals for this week! Hope you've had a great one!

Sunday: Crockpot Chicken and Wild Rice Soup (SO GOOD; the easiest version of this I've made and the best. I added extra carrot and cut the roux mixture in half and it was still plenty creamy.)

Monday: Oven Jambalaya

Tuesday: Fancy picnic dinner!

Wednesday: Vegetable Chow Mein (Delicious! I doubled the sauce, tripled the noodles, and added tons of extra veggies, and served it with an over easy egg on top of each bowl)

Thursday: Easy Crockpot Creamy Chicken Enchilada Chili