Tonight I was wrapping Christmas gifts with my mom, and every second present she’d holler “OOPS” and go into fits of giggles. Often she simply couldn’t remember what the gift was once the last piece of tape was on. Another time she’d pasted two tags on one gift; usually, she couldn’t find the scissors she’d just set down. The ritual of gathering everything I’ve bought for everyone on my wish and wrapping them, one by one, is satisfying, dreamy, and slightly melacholy, because it usually means the big day is only handfuls of hours away.

This year, though, the big gift is little Barnaby, whose enormous bright eyes and massive strength belie his extreme youth. He’s incredible. Sadly, I’ll have to wait until after the holidays to post all of my pics, as I did not bring the proper cord for my new camera, but it will be worth the wait. He often sleeps with one fist curled under his chin, resting his head as if he’s falling asleep in class.

I had an amazing day today, for a number of reasons, but one of them was walking around the Union Square holiday market and picking out perfect little bits for people I love. And holding Barnaby for half an hour as he pondered my face. I love being in a house with so much of my family under one roof, and little Lucy to see tomorrow.

Ah, me. As complicated as the holidays are, for every last one of us on this earth, I think, this was a simple, exciting, lovely day. We should all be so blessed.

It’s hard to write about being away from Sean & Jordi during the birth of their first son, but, well, here I am. I’m going to be in New York in four days, but that’s four days from holding little Barnaby who has already staked quite a claim on my heart. I’ve been seriously thinking about how this is possible, from so far away, but it is, simply. The same with Lucy- I see her so rarely, but this sweet girl…

I claim for my own. Not “mine”, just part of my clan, part of my fierce love. And part of the reason I need to make this world a better place to live.

Even with my heartache, my longing to be with the Williams little ones, I’ve found a new sort of peace these last three days. I don’t know exactly how to explain it, but I’m ready to start making decisions based on life as I know it, rather than hope. I don’t know that hope alone actually changes anything, and I don’t know that hope actually alters outcomes, but I do know that action is just that- it’s change, it’s movement, and it’s all I can control. I can’t control who falls into my life, I can’t control people’s reactions towards me, but I can control how I spend my days, and I can try to shape what lingers in my mind.

I spent this evening with part of my California family, otherwise known as Punky and Matty.

These are the kind of friends one prays for, if one were the praying type. It’s less painful to be away from my blood when I have friends like these. And terrific lipstick. But these next few days are going to be distracted and strange, waiting for the moment that I can be with Sean, and the baby boy who, in my mind, has been waiting to hang out with Sean for a long time.

Four days. Even I, the least patient woman this side of the Mississippi, can wait four days. Maybe.

I just came from a delightful but strange evening. One of my dear friends and colleagues had a huge presentation tonight- she runs a program in a local school and they had a performance, and many folks from my coaching network showed up. The show was hilarious and adorable- ten-year-olds running amuck- and afterwards a bunch of us went to dinner.

We went to a local restaurant that is slightly fancy and has live music every night of the week (which is a huge anomoly in these parts). And as I looked around the table, I realized I was there with (1) twenty-something year old philanthropist who has more money than anyone I currently know put together (and who is also delightful and smart), (2) staff members of a youth-led emancipating foster youth service organization and (2) youth staff of the same organization, one of whom is 19 years old, the other 16. All the youth staff of this organization are transitional foster youth themselves, and I’ve coached all of them on their various public speaking engagements & performances. Their backgrounds are horrific; they are sharp and funny and awesome.

Looking around at this table, I was awed by how different all of us were; how wildly different our childhoods and all of our experiences up until that moment were; and how rare it is to sit at a table with such a diverse group of people. Diverse racially, in sexual orientation, in age, and in socio-economic background, yes, but more so just so wildly diverse in experience & life. And we all had so much to talk about. I was so tired, I feel so worn by all the huge stuff going on at work, that I kept inviting everyone else to talk to me, rather than I to them, because I just wasn’t up for talking, AGAIN, about work, since that’s most of my life. By the end of the meal, though, I was energized, finally coming to life, and remembering just how much I love my network out here.

I don’t know that I’ve ever loved so many people.

We had a conversation about “best friends”, and did each of us have one? And I spoke of Stacey, and of Rachel, and others, but there are so many now that I’m so drawn to, and love so much, and my life has never really been like that. I need to make a practice of not isolating and actually spending time with these people, like I did tonight. It’s really nice to feel, well, *known*, and to not have to be *on*. It’s becoming more and more clear to me what I want it to feel like when I’m with people I love and who love me. And realizing that I have a lot of introverted tendencies, no matter what most people think, and honoring those as opposed to trying to pretend that I’m always a social animal.

At the same time, I’m aching to be back in New York right now, for so many reasons, to be there in the cold and with my family. I was there over Thanksgiving just long enough to get used to it, and it’s so hard to feel so strongly about two places with 3000 miles between them. I have a lot of faith that wherever I go, I’ll bring who I am now to that place, and build something there like I have here. But I still feel terribly torn. Nights like tonight throw into sharp relief the number of people who love & know me, and I don’t know that I’ve ever wanted anything more.