I went to high school at a tiny seventh-twelfth grade school in the Southern Tier of New York State. With 96 students in my graduating class, we got pretty close over the course of the four years I was there.
High school is an interesting testing ground for relationships. As teenagers, we kind of know we don’t know everything. We also think we know enough, and more than most of those around us.
Self-knowledge is tough because with all the new hormones, we’re still getting to know the person we’re becoming.
I had some memorable friendships in high school. One was a frenemy, if you can have a guy friend who’s a frenemy. We were often at odds, always fighting like siblings, and we drove each other crazy.
Even then, we both realized the reason we rubbed each other the wrong way so often was that we were very alike, and we saw in the other person things we hated about ourselves.
This post picks up where this one left off.
The night I wrote the post about finding healing, I sat hunched on the sofa over my laptop, with terrible posture.
I’d been resting my stiff neck on a hot pack all afternoon. I had tried to meditate it away, pray over it, and medicate it. I’d talked with the Chaplain about the stress I thought was causing the pain. I’d slept flat on my back to reduce tension, and had done every other thing I could think of, including giving the rest of my family massages. (Fellow women may understand this subtle form of communication?)
I was pretty sure I was going to have to seek professional help in the morning.
Today was a real Sabbath.
We finally got our first significant snowfall for the year, in the form of a huge winter snow that cancelled church services, and left us home with nothing to do on a Sunday.
It could have gone either way. Often, when all the kids are home on weekends, the noise and fighting increase. With no structure to their day other than quiet time, they can end up engaging in attention-seeking behaviors with both their siblings and their parents.
Today was different.
This past weekend at work, I spoke with a disarmingly friendly and open coworker who shared her tradition for New Year’s with me. Every year, she cleans her house from top to bottom, down to bathing her kids, and her family shares a meal together. There may also have been other family activities, but what really stuck with me was the cleaning.
Each year, starting out with a clean house, and clean kids.
From what she said, it sounds like she has a 2-bedroom situation, while my house is two stories and five bedrooms. She has two kids, while I have seven, 4 of whom need help to bathe.
For me, starting the New Year off with a clean slate is not a one-day enterprise. But I loved what she said about giving herself and her family a fresh start each year, and I started thinking about what I could do to make some version of it happen at our house.
Just before Christmas last year, I was surrounded by stuff to do, and I wasn’t doing enough of it. I was sitting in a pile of my own expectations and failing to measure up. And I was listening to Pandora’s Pentatonix Holiday station.
I’m still listening to Pentatonix Holiday radio. This year, I have the paid version and no longer have to listen to creepy Subway ads. When I don’t feel like Christmas music, I listen to something else instead of listening to holiday songs out of some strained sense of loyal obigation.
We decorated our tree just days before Christmas. I didn’t go with my family to pick it out.
