So there I was, minding my own business, when Stewey hopped up into my lap with his little clipboard and reading glasses. (This usually means that I'm in for some type of performance evaluation, so I braced myself and got on with it.)
"Mother, I want to talk to you about the year that wasn't."
"The what?"
"The year that wasn't, Mother. By this, I mean the year during which you managed to do absolutely nothing, stitch absolutely nothing, write absolutely nothing, read absolutely nothing, cook absolutely nothing, and again, DO absolutely nothing."
(It was at this point that he peered over the top of his little reading glasses with what can only be described as utter disgust.)
"I didn't think it possible, Mother, but I think you've managed to break some type of land/speed record for total sloth."
(I ask you. What the heck am I supposed to say to THAT?)
It took me a few minutes, but I gathered my remaining wit and replied thusly:
"Stewey, you're right. This WAS the year that wasn't. Mommie was in some kind of perpetual fog. I'd like to think of it as The Year of Quiet, Stewey...NOT the Year of Sloth. For you see, Little, I was tired. And contemplative. And worried about things. And satisfied to just sit and look at the walls some days. But this doesn't mean that it was a BAD year necessarily...it just means that it was quiet.
Before you came along and before Mommie started writing her blog and going places and doing things, she had a lot of quiet years. Mommie used to be a very quiet person. Shy, actually. And she used to feel really ashamed and awkward about this until she read that there is a book out that says that the world needs people like this....that sometimes an introverted person can provide a little balance to an otherwise loud and TMI kind of world.
So I suppose that I embraced my inner quiet this year and just decided that it would be OK to watch. And OK to listen. And OK to learn. To not have to be the center of attention every damn minute of the day or to feel OK to just...be.
The good news is that this quiet year allowed me to celebrate many many happy things that took place in OTHER people's lives. Like weddings and babies and graduations and promotions and big project finishes and trips and seminars and classes and happy times with loved ones.
I might have only stitched ten things this year and only finished three....but the happiness I felt when I read about a sister/brother stitcher finishing one of THEIR projects was wonderful. And since I wasn't frantically trying to up my numbers all the time, I was able to breathe and re-boot and learn new things and discover secrets and news and tidbits that I might have otherwise overlooked.
As for my personal life...I think that being quiet taught me to stop the madness of trying to be Martha Stewart and Ina Garten and Oprah every minute of every day. Being quiet taught me that it's OK to have an unmade bed and a few dust bunnies for company, and that it's OK to spend an evening in front of the TeeVee with nothing but a dietCoke and an empty brain for sustenance.
Now before you start to fret about 2014, Stewey, let me tell you that I'm already planning things in my head about how the year is going to go. I've started writing lists of books that I'd like to read, meals I'd like to cook, shows I'd like to watch, and, most importantly, stitching projects that I'd like to accomplish. I'm going to go to my first seminar this year, Stewey, and I'm finally going to do something about all of that unused stash up in the studio that could bring somebody a lot of happiness. I'm going to spend more time with Aunt Chrissy stitching, and I'm going to try very hard to write more on our blog about all of the crazy shenanigans that go on around here. We're going to have fun in 2014, Stewey. We're going to break out of the shell a little and think happy thoughts and have happy times with people we love."
(Amazingly, enough, my little dog listened to all of this quite respectfully, and then did something that caused me to break out into the ugly cry. He put his little head on my shoulder, looked deeply into my eyes, and said "I love you, Mommie Dearest.")
Ahhhh......Christmas. God bless us. Every. One.
I hope that you and the people you love will have perfect days ahead....full of everything that your heart desires. Thanks for all of the love and happiness and joy we've had in 2013 and here's hoping that we'll have more of the same in 2014.
It's going to be a good one.....I can feel it in my bones.
Ciao, my dears. Merry Christmas. Happy New Year. Love and peace and blessing to all!
With much love.
Coni
(and Stwey too!)
