Epiphany 2015

Thankfully, my children aren't old enough to be on social media and see all the delightful Epiphany celebrations of our family friends either on Sunday (transferred) or today (traditional). They don't remember that we typically celebrate and they receive gifts on Epiphany.

So, they weren't disappointed when Mama was still too fatigued to make an elaborate breakfast (but, hey, we graduated from cold cereal to "what would you like on your toast?"), there were no gifts, and I didn't make a fun dinner.

Instead, we took down the Christmas tree, having completed the 12 days of Christmas and conveniently in time for trash pick-up tomorrow. The process of putting away the ornaments that normally takes me a couple of hours will probably take me a couple of days.

Amazed at the first day I haven't had to take a few lay-down rests, I took us on a slow, quarter-mile walk in the sunny 55 degrees, our not having stepped outside in eleven long days. Oh, how lovely to breathe fresh air through these coughing-all-the-time lungs again!

Departing on our walk

The children were so happy to be outdoors! But despite how calmly we dawdled along, our recovering lungs were tuckered out. Both girls--who each still had relapse fevers as recently as last night--laid down to rest along our walk.

When we got back, Margaret promptly fell asleep on the couch. Joseph was asleep by 6:00, having wished to go to sleep even earlier, and then both John and Margaret were asleep by 6:30 as I read aloud our chapter books. I can really see how slow is their (our) recuperation.

Bonus Reading: "Why I Don't Let my 4-Year-Old Daughter Wear Spaghetti Straps" by Melanie Pritchard. I came across this article today and felt it captured beautifully something I've been thinking for years. It seems easier and more sensible to set a general standard for the family than to suddenly impose standards when one believes a child has reached a certain age. Of course, this principle applies because we're not talking about increased privileges ('now that you're 16, you may drive') but, in a sense, decreased privileges ('now that you're 12, you may not wear that anymore'). (The author doesn't mention this related point, but I also suspect it is easier to set one standard for one's family than to set varying standards based on age. Simply, "we don't wear that in our family.")

Also, the author's language about protecting the dignity of our female mystery was so beautiful, it made me teary!