I put the camera on a tripod in the living room. I was sort of hoping for some group portraits, but the kids were not in the mood for anything like that.

This is Adrian’s pile of library books.

When we were choosing books together, his said he wanted books “with fights… and maybe dinosaurs”. That turned out to be a rare combination. Even just finding easy reading books with fights in them was difficult. Not considered an appropriate subject for six-year-olds, perhaps?

Adrian has learned to read fluently. Today we went to the library to pick up some books. We have plenty of children’s books at home, but no “easy reading”.

Now he cannot put them down, and he’s already finished three of the five books. Which is why we don’t have such books at home: they’re good for one read, which takes about 15 minutes, and that’s it.

These are my Millennium tights. That’s what the design was called, because the millennium was the hot thing back when I got them, in 2000.

They were an eye-opener, my gateway into the world of fancy legwear. Up until I got these as a gift from Eric, I’d frugally been buying plain black or skin-coloured tights only.

They are among the oldest clothes that I own and still wear. Very occasionally, to be honest: they’re more air than yarn at the toes, and I mostly keep them out of nostalgia.

I got a colouring book for Christmas, and it has surprised me how much I like it. Colouring books for adults are everywhere these days – even in the magazine rack at the supermarket. I’ve never considered buying one for myself. I have no shortage of activities to fill my time. But now that I have a colouring book, I use it more than I had expected. It’s an excellent time-filler for those little gaps when I’m waiting for something (Ingrid to finish brushing her teeth, or potatoes to finish cooking) and the time is too short to pick up a book – or when it’s late at night and I’m too tired to do anything demanding, but not tired enough to go to bed. Previously I would have been tempted to just browse reddit or gotten stuck in some blog. Colouring is a better alternative.

Another reason why I haven’t thought of buying a colouring book is that I simply don’t think of myself as an artistic person. I have my elementary school teachers to thank for that – they taught me that I cannot sing or draw or paint. Drawing is the quintessential “art”, so at the back of my head I’ve always equated “creative and artistic” to “can draw”.

The years have taught me that none of that is true. Yes, my singing may sound awful to a trained ear, but that does not mean I cannot sing. Yes, drawing is an art, but drawing is not the only way to be creative. I write, I photograph, I sew and craft, I design our garden. Even programming is a creative endeavour!

I sharpen pencils the old school way, with a small knife. It’s an enjoyable task, as long as the knife is sharp and the pencil made of good wood.

The best thing Adrian got for Christmas was a Skylanders game. For “second Christmas”, when we celebrate with the extended family, about two weeks after actual Christmas, he got a bunch of extra figures. The figures quickly became his favourite toy. Almost all other toys lie neglected and forgotten – including Legos.

Adrian and I wrapped Christmas gifts for his cousins. Mostly I wrapped, while he taped and wrote labels. “Look, I made a lowercase R!”

Adrian getting a haircut.

More skating.