A Word Study

Daunting. 

Seeming difficult to deal with in prospect; intimidating. 

Synonyms: intimidating, formidable, disconcerting, unnerving, unsettling, dismaying; discouraging, disheartening, dispiriting, demoralizing; forbidding, ominous, awesome, frightening, fearsome; challenging, taxing, exacting. 

Daunt. Verb. Circa 1300 AD. From Old French "danter,"meaning "to vanquish." From the Latin "domare," meaning "to tame."

Thank you, Google and Online Etymology Dictionary. I kind of love etymology. One, because I am a huge nerd. Two, because the history of words is such a lovely tapestry. Threads connecting civilizations, cultures, languages throughout time, ever changing, ever reflecting change. History from a different perspective.

But that isn't what I am writing about. How would you use daunting in a sentence? I immediately think of grand tasks - summiting Everest, vanquishing a great enemy - you know, the things great literature is made of. How about these sentences for examples:

"The international trip was daunting to the mother." 
"The mother was daunted by traveling internationally with her baby."
"The constant, rambunctious movement of her son meant that the 20 hour international journey was daunting to the mom."

Yep. That is what I am writing about. No great enemy to vanquish. Unless you count jet lag to be that enemy. Now that I think of it, that'll do. Mac and I set out on a Grand Adventure on Monday. We travel from Frankfurt, to Amsterdam. Then Amsterdam to Minneapolis (whyyyyyy......), then Minneapolis to Oklahoma City. It's about 20 hours of travel time total and the longest leg is an eight hour flight. OH.

Did I mention I'm going alone? ALONE. I have this image of my 25 lb. son climbing over fellow passengers, writhing in my arms as he fusses, not sleeping because he has reached the point where he is so tired that sleep is impossible. You know, Manic Baby Syndrome. Meanwhile, I am starving and unable to use the facilities. Did I mention I'm sipping a vodka tonic from Mac's sippy cup? It might happen. I am hoping that Mac's charm and good looks will get us far. (And yes, I am using my child for my own benefit). Best case scenario...a lovely grandma is sitting next to us and just can't get enough of my toddling child. With my luck, it'll be this guy (this is actually hilarious).

Inhale. Exhale. I know it will be fine, mostly because it has to be. I have a few tricks up my sleeve...a fantastic travel crib that will become Mac's haven on layovers. String cheese in abundance. New toys. Prayer. I'm tempted to convert to Catholicism just so I can cross myself multiple times throughout the day. Alas, it is not to be. In the end, I shall vanquish and tame this ominous, forbidding, exacting journey. And on the other side, I will be an Expert on traveling internationally with a child. I might even write a blog post about our journey.

Wish me luck, dear friends. Or better yet, send me a Delta drink voucher.

'Til next time.

Expectation

Expectation. I remember as a child that wonderful feeling. This time of year everything seemed magical. I remember how every Christmas preparation was laced with excitement...paper chains, Christmas lights decorating strange places in our bedrooms (i.e., curtain rods), the careful setting out of the fine porcelain manger scene. On the four Sundays preceding Christmas, my family would gather in the dark, light the Advent wreath, eat Little Debbie Christmas Tree Cakes (one of God's great gifts to mankind), drink hot cocoa, and breathe in the Expectation of Something Big Coming. Someone Coming. And then, on Christmas Eve, when each of my siblings and I were literally bursting with excitement (because Everything was beginning), we would have our Christmas meal, open our ornaments from our parents, and try not to light ourselves on fire (because one year, it happened...shout out to you, Mom. Be wary of cute holiday decor that involves attaching small candles to dinner plates). The fifth candle was lit, the room was no longer dark. We all demanded to sleep in the same room (until I was too Old to do this...such a sad Susan moment). We lit a candle, snuggled up, and fell asleep well after midnight. And the next morning (read five hours later), much to my parents' yearly chagrin, we would run wildly through the house, wake said parents up, be told sternly to return to bed until it was 6 AM, chatter excitedly and obediently in our beds, and then...Expectation Fulfilled. Stockings bursting, parents sleepy, children bright-eyed, treasure-hunting, package-ripping, laugher-making fulfillment.

Expectation. That wonderful child-like sense of wonder, of trust, that what you expect will be as grand as you hope. I remember when my child-like wonder gave way to the reality that Christmas was just another day, followed by more days. Regular ones. It was so hard for me to grow up, so heartbreaking. Even now, the memory is sad. Because the wonder seemed to have gone forever.  These days, now that I am Mature (insert wild laughter here), I see that Wonder can be found again. Flashes of joy are all around. But they are flashes, not beams. And I see that that is ok. Watching Mac get giddily excited at the sight of the Christmas tree...Flash. A visit to a town that fulfills all Christmas fantasies...Flash. The uneven cobblestones, a mug of hot Glühwein warming soul and hands, the sight of variating medieval stone comprising buildings, walls, streets ...Flash. The first snowfall of the season. Pine boughs gilded with snow stacked row after row on the hill across from my house. Flash. Flash.

As we left Rothenburg (the oh-so-perfect town mentioned above), a lady in a store wished me a lovely Advent season. And I've been thinking on that since. She didn't say "Merry Christmas" as I did. No, she wished a lovely season of Expectation. Not the culmination, the waiting. I'm sure she didn't mean it to be quite so laden with meaning. Christmas here in Germany isn't so much about the day as it is about a season, stretching from Advent to the Feast of the Epiphany on January 6th, with much more observance and respect for the religious aspect of the holiday. (We are trying to incorporate this into our family life...Christmas as a season focused on the church holy days instead of one day). But I took two things away from that exchange. One, I think I may start wishing people a lovely Advent season...that is, after all, the season we are currently in. It isn't Christmas yet. And two, as we wait here in the Dark, as each week the candles are progressively lit, as simple flashes of joy crop up here and there, I need to be reminded that my greatest Expectation has been fulfilled. That all these flashes are just a foretaste of what will come. That Darkness has been banished, chains have been loosed, redemption has been accomplished. The Light is come.

And so, I wish you a season of great Expectation. Flashes of joy all 'round. 

'til next time.