Warm & Bright

What do you get when you mix sugar cookies, brunch festivities, and old Christmas photos of The Bean, I mean me, in a velvet dress? 

Someone head-over-heels* in the holiday season. 

Falalalalalalaaaaaa. Finally. 

Just in time to finish shopping and wrapping and anxiously waiting for the UPS man... and the end of the world.  

(*"head-over-heels" as in: Belted out along with the radio to "Last Christmas I Gave You My Heart." Twice. In a row. With gusto)

xoxo

{Bon Bon}

This>That

As if Christmas and my narcissistic life in general didn't always bring about a waterfall of emotions,

which has compelled me to regurgitate a weak assembling of my scattered thoughts in recent posts like {this} and {this}. 

And then to further feel an urge to write about {this}. 

When mere words are not enough.

They never will be.  

I have experienced sudden traumatic loss in my own life. 

The shockwave of which, has defined me in numerous ways. 

For a long time, I didn't feel anything. Effortlessly numb and absentmindedly fulfilled in my emptiness. 

The fire in my soul grew dim year after year, before those tiny embers slowly flickered again. 

Whereas, the "me" today burns and aches and groans and weeps with a burden of empathy. 

It almost becomes unbearable. 

This weight of shattered innocence and brokenness.

 Lives that will never fully do what they were simply created to do. 

While those left behind are always forced to clean up the fragments. 

Piecing together a frustrating puzzle of existence, now a patchwork of gaping holes.

That's where we are.

A messy world. Full of messy people. Including you and me. 

Sometimes it looks pretty and put together. 

The facade that I find myself believing in, all too readily. 

Until reality leaves me breathless, and clinging to Heaven desperately. 

Because there has to be more than this. 

There has to be more than this snippet of life on earth.

More than who and why. this and that.

More than politics 

and debates. 

More than pain.

and emptiness. 

More than evil. 

and darkness, 

and

dear God, 

more than

Fathers and Mothers burying their Children.

...

 What offered me hope thirteen years ago, 

 continues to deliver the same yesterday, today, and tomorrow.

It is the greatest gift I have this season. 

xoxo

{Bon Bon}

Clackamas

Today I am thankful for a wriggly cranky baby who needed a snack and a nap yesterday afternoon. And matching coats.  

Between the hours of 12PM and 4PM, I try to cram as much stuff possible into our afternoon. 

{Sometimes that stuff consists of sweatpants and goldfish crackers and unending renditions of "Old McDonald Had a Farm."}

Yesterday we hurriedly rushed into our normal stomping grounds. Errands. Grocery stores.  A cart full of bananas and Trader Joes strawberry granola bars, at least two boxes. It's a must. 

The Bean was getting restless as the time for lunch came and went, yet, I was on a mission to get everything and do everything on my list, as his (and my) stomach grumbling sounds went in one ear and out the other. 

I decided to make one last stop at the mall. The mall I've been to a thousand times. 

The mall that my best friends and I used to hang out at every single Saturday afternoon once we turned thirteen. Now we meet up with our babies in tow, as our 24 year old selves giggle through the aisles of Forever 21. 

Some things never change. 

Since we moved and don't live right by the Clackamas Town Center anymore, I wanted to meander. Spend some time in a mixture of window and christmas shopping. But with a trunk full of groceries calling out our famished names and two arms burning from forgetting a stroller and holding twenty plus pounds of pure baby boy, we left early. Around 2:30 or so. 

Just in time to get home. Have lunch. Snuggle. Nap. 

Seemingly mundane. 

...

Today I am thankful for the mundane.

For the beauty of it. 

My prayers are with the many that are hurting today.

{here} 

Lives that have been changed forever, out of their seemingly mundane. 

May beauty have a way to enter in, once again. 

xoxo

{Bon Bon}

We're Just That Vain

The other morning as our dishwasher repairman was leaving, (oh the joys of homeownership), and after he had asked, "is your mom home?" (oh the joys of korean genes), he puzzledly mused aloud as to what a photo booth is. 

Yes. We still have a plaid papered golden festooned photo booth instillation in our entryway. 

It's kind of the only decorative thing we have "hanging" on our walls as of yet, (oh the joys of drywall centric commitment phobia). 

And so it stays. 

Rawr. 

{P.S. the more it stays up there though, the more I'm falling in love with the thought of wallpapering or stenciling that entry wall. Is this wishful 1970s thinking? Thoughts?}

xoxo

{Bon Bon}

BitterSweet

{Christmas 2009 in Rwanda}

Without fail, the Christmas season brings about a deluge of emotions into my everyday. I become a dichotomy of Kringle and Scrooge, with a dash of Jimmy Stewart in "It's a Wonderful Life." Each year as December waves a hurried hello, I find myself conflicted in this conundrum between reveling in my steamy cup of peppermint Starbucks and rehashing the justification of a $5 cup of roasted beans. 

And sometimes burnt beans at that. 

I've been told that what I'm paying for is the "experience." 

The atmosphere. 

Feeling warm and cozy. Safe. 

I don't think I want a "safe" life though. 

In the sense of car seats and air bags and back-up parachutes, or the time I went cliff jumping in Hawaii and at the moment of ocean plunge thought to myself, "a life jacket sure would've come in handy right about now," then yes, I'm all on board with that version of "safe." 

{Lesson learned: This is the real world, and Free Willy doesn't always have your back and scrambling back up a cliff full of barnacles is.the.worst} 

But, in life. Safe. The same thing, day after day, year after year. Filling the voids with "stuff" and digging yourself deeper into emptiness. 

I sure hope not. 

This revolving door of transcendent hope, whirls around season after season.

It opens into my morning, afternoon, and evening.

I can't help it. 

My life is ruined for the ordinary, 

and so has my Christmas. 

xoxo

{Bon Bon}

'Tis the Season

Most of the Bean's birthday party decorations are packed away, {For future mustache bashes to be had of course. If anyone out there needs to borrow a faux cigar box or gold bison statue, I'm your girl!} and replaced with the twinkling glow of all things Christmas. 

Except the bottom portion of our tree. 

All things Christmas will not be happening there because a certain baby in his new limbo toddler wannabe land has decided that life is about throwing all things Christmas and sparkly and fragile.

While yelling "gobble gobble." 

Seriously. 

It's his new word? phrase? mantra?

I.don't.even.know

How's your decking of the halls {or living rooms, etc} going? 

xoxo

{Bon Bon}

Mustache Bash!

...

The Bean had quite the bash for his birthday on Saturday. 

We zoomed through our new house of exactly seven days with some serious elbow grease galore and lots of helping hands to prepare for the 50+ crowd of family and friends. 

And if anyone out there is wondering what the effects of an almost entirely eaten smash cake are on a one year old, it's as follows:

Smash.

Eat. 

Smash. 

Eat.

Bath.

Play. 

Mingle. 

Play.

Mingle.

crawl, crawl, crawl, crawl. 

Bounce off walls. 

Bounce in crib. 

Finagle one of your uncles to get you out of crib. 

Watch the beginning of "Skyfall" with the big kids. 

Fall asleep on the couch at 11PM. 

Happy Birthday Baby {Big Boy. Sniffle} Bean! 

xoxo

{Bon Bon}