We've hit a landmark. Carson's infant seats have been stashed in the garage since he grew out of them last spring, and we've needed to sell them.
Today I said to Ella, "is there anything you feel like you might be too old for, honey?" thinking we could load all the images up on Craigslist at once.
She went to that area of her closet where all her princess dresses have hung, slowly getting less and less use as the novelty has worn away. Could it be true?She's over it. There were no tears. No hesitation. I quickly recognized my propensity for dramatizing this sort of activity, so I stood up, took a deep breath, and went to fetch a bag to put them all in.
Off they'll go to a good friend with a lovely little daughter who I know will appreciate them. As I loaded all the gear into the bag I thought, "good riddance."
Then I remembered those mornings where she'd show up at the door of our room in full Cinderella getup, giggling from her high heels to that plastic tiara.
Then I reached down into the bag and took the tiara back.
Just in case.
Each year, my design team gets together right after the holidays for Festivus: a night of sharing good food, drinks and laughter. Instead of Christmas gifts we have a tradition that goes like this:Take the $10-$20 that you would have pitched in to get your boss (me) something, and add a little personal creativity to make something for everyone. There are 10 of us, so that's no short order. Each year, this group makes things that are unbelievably inventive and original. We all walk in with 10 of something, and walk out with 10 completely new and different things. It's the cookie exchange model; only more creative, earth-friendly and recession-proof. Think hand-poured candles, recycled newspaper wallets, and bottlecap pendants.Here's what I made from bottlecaps, epoxy, and some hardware. Each person got 2-3 filled with symbols, designs or images that were significant to them. 
some other treasures:Bergamot-Coriander scented stress relief, made of worn jeans, rice, and essential oils
Wood and paper scraps blended into collage, with a unique hand-stamped word chosen for each of us by Jannelle 
Homemade soup with a great packaging and directions
Pressboard painted with chalkboard paint, complete with magnets and chalk, a little eraser, and corks recycled from The Wine Loft. 
Despite the fact that she still gets carded, and her long, toned legs can stop traffic, it's true: my seestor is actually fifty. Ella helped me decorate the house, and we threw a little bash to celebrate. 
Ella and Carson, this blog is for you. However, this entry may serve to educate you on three simple truths about being a grownup: A. Even when we appear that we know what we're doing, we are usually just winging it.
B. Sometimes it's not all about you, because SO much is going on, that it seems God has changed the blender speed of our family antics from "blend" to "beat."C. When you have kids, and this kind of thing happens, it's ok. Just keep loving them, nodding and smiling, and doing the best you can. Don't let them smell your fear! Here's what happened: 1. At work, our Management team re-organized the roles and reporting structure of 54 people at two sites. My job, and all my direct reports but one, would change dramatically. 2. Five days later, my boss - the Creative Director - resigned. 
3. The same day, Derek's unemployment benefits ended.[insert Christmas]4. That week, our whole family—over a dozen people—got a rather violent strain of the stomach flu.5. Two weeks after that, I dropped and broke my iPhone (read=lifeline) while out of town on business.6. The same day, Carson had a small accident at home, and Derek rushed him to the ER for 22 stitches in his face. 7. The same day, my Corporate American Express was suspended for no apparent reason while I was on that business trip, leaving me with no way to pay for my hotel or airport parking. 
8. That night, I arrived back at Dayton Airport to a car that had been buried by 2 feet of snow and ice. With no scraper. Wearing only jeans, a fleece and ballet flats. And a heart that was breaking over my crying son at home.9. One week later, in the midst of a jumping-on-the-bed hilarity, Ella landed the wrong way and broke my nose.
It should be noted that I am a fairly positive person who usually errs on the side of laughing instead of crying, but this comedy of errors has resulted in a few tears. I got a new phone, we have savings to tap into, the flu moved through, the ice melted, and Carson is fine. My nose is not, but we'll deal with that next.
If bad luck runs in threes, I think we're done for the year.
