My Wishes for the Year Ahead. I wish:

I wish that there didn't have to be such peaks and valleys in this life.
It ought to be that a good run can last a good long time; so good in fact, that you actually get bored and find yourself wishing for something else. Something challenging, some kind of puzzle to work out, something to overcome. Instead, it seems like most of life is a challenge, exhausting you to the bitter core, a mental and physical bashing that takes so long to recover from that you MISS the peaks....so:

I wish that the peaks would last longer.
It should be that you can, with pure joy, grasp each moment of a child's development. Instead, you catch pieces here and there and as they get bigger, taller, smarter. The time flies so much so that when you're cuddling in the early hours of the day, you notice that his hand seems to have grown so big and so strong and so capable overnight. You hold that little hand, knowing it won't be little for long. You have a moment, willing and wishing to always recollect how he feels in the crook of your arm, his little big head heavy on you but seeming to fit perfectly. You know that you can't remember all the moments, but you long to hold on to this one.....so:

I wish our memory banks were bigger.
There were all kinds of memories of when Sarah was small and learning that I wish I could get back. But life got so busy with each new development, then another new being to nurture and remember, and constant sleep-deprivation, that the stores you have deep inside your mind start to spill over and disappear. One at a time those memories are replaced by something else. A new memory of Sarah saying or doing something precious replaces one from when she was smaller. You want to keep them all but can't. You wish you could have BOTH memories instead of just one and all those pin numbers and passwords you need to recall at a moment's notice.....so:

I wish my brain wasn't so full of passwords and pin-numbers.
I can remember my bank card number. And my passwords for all my online activities. And my password for work. I have at least 20 phone numbers in my head at the ready on a moment's notice. I have most of my home administrative responsibilities tucked under my hat somewhere. I have the details of my job tucked in there too. The learning curve of parenting is sometimes more steep than that of an evolving career path. You wish that more of your mental energy could go to being ever-present in your home life, but that's not possible in this day and age. There is simply too much infinite and infatessimal information stored, and not enough first words or comprehensions of the people you most want to remember. So there ought to be two storage areas; one for the numbers and codes and administrative mumbo-jumbo, and one for the "moments" you wish to treasure always, and recollect easily when the valley is at it's deepest. Like when you're worried about one of those little people.....so:

I wish that there were no such thing as learning disabilities.
That's a toughie. But honestly. Everyone should be "smart" and teachable. You should begin life with an infinite ability to learn and then how much and how fast and how well you learn becomes a "nurture" versus "nature" thing. None of this sheer inability to learn because your brain won't or can't do it. Sarah can NOT draw a diagonal line without a guide. Cannot. Can you imagine not being able to print an N or a K or a V? She cannot. N's are much better for her because it starts with a straight line and ends with a straight line. But the K? Leave those two diagonal lines floating there? Her brain cannot comprehend it. Cannot do it. V? And W can only be accomplished with rounded bottoms and straight lines. It looks like a W. But a V looks like a U. Sarah can read the word "and" 50 times in a row and know it. Then she can go away for a five minute break, come back, and not know the word "and". She doesn't understand that me just telling her not to put her mittens on the wet ground means that really she ought to stop putting her mittens on the wet ground, or that I just explained that singing into her brother's ear isn't a good thing because it can damage them means she should stop doing that. She needs to be told. Each step. And many times. Add to that the fact that she's at the age where they can start to formulate their own opinions and will therefore fight for what they believe to be all that is good and just and fair in the world, and what you can often get is a non-comprehending, argumentative, and often confused girl. So banish the learning disabilities. None. Everyone gets a good strong brain and if it's fed properly, then everyone gets to understand how to read and do numbers and print and concentrate on their work. What makes learning disabilities so hard is that the child appears in every way normal. So there is less patience for their behaviours because if they do something socially unacceptable, they aren't in some way disabled, they are "weird". So.....

I wish that people would stop telling me there is nothing wrong with my sweet girl and just accept that there IS something wrong with her and cut her some slack.
That is a big wish. But it is part of what's making me feel down today. Valley-ish. The peak was Saturday and it was a beautiful family day in so many ways. But it ended on a low note (I mean, the very last half hour of it, so not enough to ruin it). Then Sunday dawned on a low note and was pretty much a struggle. Then there was homework and it dawned on me - as it often dawns on me as if I were JUST comprehending the scope of her disabilities for the first time - that this child has many complex and serious issues that will dog her for her entire life. I don't like that I can't clear her mind and make her think like the mainstream of society. I don't like that something, some actual EVENT, happened during her development to "injure" her white matter so that she cannot traverse the seamless world of abstract thought to concrete, that she cannot go from right brain to left brain thoughts and ideas, that she can't see that some of her more "quirky" behaviours are going to set her apart. I can't chase it away and that's what I really want more than anything....so:

I wish that my Christmas gifts could all be traded for the ability to make Sarah "better" and for me to be able to remember their growing and their words and the laughter with incredible clarity.
I wish it. I don't need tops or pants or "stuff". But I DO need to remember holding James' hand this morning, cuddling Sarah to warm her up, sleeping with her on my chest, her crossing her arms to proclaim "no flair!", James wanting to say grace and thanking God for "food, milk, and hot sauce", Sarah hiding in the leaves and waiting for daddy to get home to surprise him, James playing his musical instruments in time with the music on the radio, Sarah proclaiming "this is Roxanne" from the first bar of the song by The Police. Her compassion, his passion. Her ability to nurture, his comprehension. Her easy-going nature, his fierce independence. God, I wish I could retain it all. And banish the wall in Sarah's brain that prevents so much daily ability.

But.
Some of my wishes have come true already.

I have two beautiful children who are powerful in each their own ways.
I have a home I love, even if there are ways I'd like to improve it.
I have the ability to get around, and the good fortune to be able to take care of the children's needs.
I have a good job and wonderful colleagues to spend one-third of my life with. I am blessed to be challenged in my job and to be doing what I really like to do.
I have a good extended family, even if I wish some of them could understand the challenges a little better.
I have my health. I am strong enough to lug those kids around when they need me physically.
I have my stamina. I can outrun them. Even if it exhausts me, which it mostly does.
I have the future, and the everlasting optimism that the next peak will be better than the last and that the valleys will not be deep and will be easy to traverse.
I have friends. I feel love from unexpected places and that helps to buoy me through the deeper valleys.
I love. Some people can't. But I can. And that is the greatest gift.

There are wishes. There are always wishes. But there are also wishes granted. I will try to be mindful....so:

I wish I could remember that there were wishes I wished that have come true. I remembered in writing this. I hope YOU remember in reading it.

Thanks for stopping by. Merry Christmas....
I WISH it for you.