My life is full

Fall is my most favorite time of year.  There is comfort in the chilly days, wrapping up warm, and all the traditions that come with it.

Fall is also the time of year where it's hard to catch my breath.  The weeks fly by as every night there is a taxi run of sporting events.  It leaves me the weekend to play catch up.  As the weekend arrives, my sights are set on clear spaces in the calendar.  I look forward to checking things off my list.  You know, that list that's in my head, on my phone, on pieces of paper in my purse or written in a notebook.  It's the list that has so much creative inspiring things I want to do.

But...another weekend has gone by and nothing has been checked off my list.  I try not to get discouraged.  My life is just full, and that's not all that bad.

When my siblings and I were younger, we used to get together often with my mom's family.  My grandparents had a house with a small farm.  I have wonderful memories of my time with Salazar family.  With 9 kids, there were a lot of cousins.  We ran around that farm.  I love to tell my kids the stories of the adventures we had.  Our family would talk, play and eat (my favorite part).  As "life" happened and families grew, the gatherings became less and less frequent.

Early this summer we began having a weekly Sunday family dinner.  Getting us all together for one day a week, away from the chaos of our busy schedules.  But as summer set in, vacations and conflicts emerged and we skipped a week, then two...then three.  

So, as I reviewed my calendar late last week, I saw white space come Sunday.  You don't know how much I wanted to bunker down at home.  To have no plans, except maybe some sleeping in, watching a movie, and just being cozy and relaxed in the comforts of my home.  But instead, we ventured out.  

And as the sibling that seems to be the organizer...I made an all call.  First up a family trip to the pumpkin patch.  Check.  I could only get Rhea and Mateo.  Boo.  But I'll take what I can get, even if I had to drive them home myself at 10pm.

Second, family dinner at the padres.  Check.  Can you say FRESH tortillas.  I hadn't spent much quality time with my parents lately.  We walked in and there were hugs and kisses for all.  I love how that makes them feel.  They are so happy with the company.  It makes me happy.

To me, what matters most is my family, my home and the traditions and stories we hold dear to our heart.  I know that it's my role to carry the rituals of tradition that I love, for my family.  And I love that role.  I take huge pride in that role.  I love to create the stories that will carry them in their life.  

And tonight, as much as I was sick to my stomach to go to the Haunted House with my kids and their cousins, I did.  Yeah, I was scared.  No, you don't get it, I was really scared. But as we drove home and they retold the stories of the night, over and over, with excitement in their voices and body...I smiled.  A new tradition.   I love it.  Check.