“That’s all we’ve got. Let’s wrap this up and get back to some approximation of a daily routine.”
This year we did Christmas with five kids under the age of eight, the youngest of whom is two months old tomorrow. It was magical, it was beautiful, it was… it has to be over now. Is it over now? We left “normal daily routine” behind at the beginning of November, and we are trying to find it again. Setting goals for the New Year in this newborn milieu—that is, when we’re totally exhausted—is a revealing exercise. The result is some unusually reasonable goals. And a box of eight bottles of Martinelli’s Sparkling Apple Cider, delivered to the doorstep on December 29.
Allow me to explain with a timeline.
December 19: Our newest baby was baptized. During the ceremony, he was absolutely ravenous but receptive to stalling techniques. Maybe he was just hungry for the graces. In attendance, among others, were his great-grandparents, who are both in their eighties.
December 22: We celebrated Christmas with Jonny’s siblings and their families at his mom’s house. The aforementioned great-grandfather, called “Papa,” who’s living with Jonny’s mom, had another difficult day in a series of difficult days. We all visited the bedroom down the hallway, unsure if “goodbye” was the right thing to say. At least, it wasn’t the wrong thing. Jonny’s brother asked the great-grandmother how they met, and she told us the story again. Later, Papa felt well enough to watch the kids tear wrapping paper off of presents in the living room.
December 24: We ate Christmas Eve lunch with my family. That evening, we shook all of our children awake at 11 p.m. to go to Midnight Mass. Was this insane? Yes. But there are two days each year that the circadian rhythm can go jump in a lake: Christmas and Easter. I think of it as prophetic. Thanks to the Incarnation and subsequent Resurrection, exhaustion will one day be no more. We will sleep purely for the joy of it. Also, the Mass was beautiful.
December 26: I experienced a significant “Christmas Crash” (was it because of the Midnight Mass? I… yeah. It probably was). Then, I had the misfortune of looking at the first pages of my planner, where I’d written goals in December 2022—all admirable, mostly unachieved. It was not the right time for this. Swirling around my thoughts were images of beginnings and endings and the shocking brevity of the time in between… and of my lack of ability to achieve goals within that time. What I said was, “Mmmmph. More coffee.”
Then Jonny told me to write down 25 good things that happened this past year. Flicking back through the same Planner of Failure, I found those 25 good things. I got to order dumpsters on three different occasions (my favorite remodeling task). My daughter went down the slide at the outdoor pool by herself. We have a new godson. The list goes on.
In this frame of mind, I looked back at those 2022 goals, focusing in on: have baptism parties. In 2023, we moved, Jonny switched jobs, and we had a fifth baby. It’s quite understandable that we didn’t throw six parties that we’d never thrown before. We’d acknowledged baptism days before… but what would it look like to remember our baptisms more consistently? How could I set us up in a way that allowed for this, even when we’re busy and tired?
The questions prompted a conversation with myself (fueled by some more coffee):
Self: Well, looking at the calendar, the first baptism anniversary is on a Tuesday in Lent, so having a full-on party is a little out of the question.
Also Self: Something lower octane makes sense. Probably for all of them, even if they fall on a Saturday.
Self: Maybe the same dessert every time? Like scones or chocolate covered strawberries?
Also Self: You can’t rely on being able to manifest strawberries on any given Tuesday. What about a special drink?
Self: Hmmmm… is there something that keeps for… ever? Something that could sit on the shelf all year and not expire?
Also Self: (scrolls grocery app for Sparkling Cider, holds up phone in triumph) How about this?
December 28: I ordered eight bottles of Sparkling Cider and took a nap.
December 29: The bottles arrived. I stored them in a cabinet in the basement. I printed out the renewal of baptismal vows and tucked it in the box with the bottles. The baptism candles and a jar of holy water are in the cabinet, too. I stood back and admired my handiwork.
I’d taken the goal from perfect to possible. It’s less flashy, but it’s much more suited to what our life is like right now. We won’t have full on baptismal parties for each of us, but we will light a candle and renounce Satan, then toast to good beginnings. We’ll remember. In the middle of the daily routine, we’ll take a brief moment to count grace upon grace upon grace.
Postscript: Papa died on December 31, one day before his 64th anniversary. If you are the type who remembers or prays, please take a moment to do so for him.