Hello again, friends. I swear I haven’t forgotten or
abandoned the blog. I’ve been incredibly busy. First there was Halloween, then
my son’s fifth birthday, then I was a bridesmaid in a wedding (and host of the
coordinating bachelorette party), then Thanksgiving. And in between the wedding
and Thanksgiving, I happened to contract a nine-day plague that had me
researching pine boxes to throw my carcass in and then letting Jesus take the
wheel. Even now, as I write this, I have
a box of Kleenexes within reach. The thought of pine boxes has pretty much passed.
But it remains an option. Oh, and the third season of the Crown dropped.
See?? BUSY.
And yet again, December has slammed into us with great
force, like a toddler jumping onto the body of a sleeping parent. Don’t get me
wrong, I love Christmas. I love donning ridiculous leggings adorned with
festive Christmas llamas, and bringing in tub after tub of decorations to deck
the halls – both of them. In addition to (or better yet – in spite of)
tuberculosis, or whatever this never-ending malady is, I’ve got the Christmas
spirit. Just last night, when I went to put gas in my Jeep and I looked across
the river and down upon our little city’s downtown, I teared up. I’m a crier. I
cry at the high school marching bands during the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day
Parade. “Look how far they’ve come!” I sob, clutching my coffee-filled snowman
mug between palms.
I love our downtown
at Christmas. There’s a sense of magic as all the holiday lights twinkle and
sparkle in the darkness. The little Santa house is my favorite. A few years
ago, as my family, bundled against the cold, stood outside waiting our turn, I
noticed the family ahead of us had one very happy little boy. They tried to
subdue his bouncing excitement, but with little success. Suddenly, the little
boy jumped into his dad’s arms, and exclaimed, “Happy Christmas Day, Daddy!”
The little boy’s mother, turned to me, her eyes brimming
with tears, and said: “We just adopted him.”
I never learned their names. The line shuffled forward at
that moment, and I was only able to yell, “Merry Christmas!” to them, as they
disappeared around the corner. But, I assure you, I will never forget that
family. To this day, every time we pass by the Santa house, my husband says,
“Happy Christmas Day!” And the tears well up in my eyes.
Being a mom, it’s up to me to create the Christmas magic. I
follow some of the traditions we had when I was a kid. We set up Teddy’s little
Christmas tree in his room. I get him special Christmas pjs to wear on
Christmas Eve. And then there’s the Reindeer Food. Every morning of December 24rd,
one of Santa’s little elves stealthily leaves a small pouch of Reindeer Food on
our front stoop. Included are instructions to attract the reindeer so we know
that our house will be visited by Santa that night. In all reality, it’s simply
oatmeal and glitter. But it’s honestly one of my favorite holiday traditions.
And it’s worth it to see my son’s face light up when that special Christmas Eve
darkness falls, and he tramples out of the house, clad in just his pj’s and
snow boots, flinging the Reindeer Food into the air.
Jared and I have our own little traditions. In continuation
with something my family has always done, we watch White Christmas on Christmas Eve. And there’s a lot of Mexican food
involved. Why Mexican food? Because guacamole and margaritas are life. Feliz
Navidad!
Not all Christmases have been idyllic. Just with the
normalcy of life, the happiness of the holidays each year ebbs and flows. There
have been times in the past that I sent myself into an anxietal tizzy, sweeping
up crumbs of holiday cheer from every corner, in hopes of creating the perfect
Christmas. I’ve finally learned that there is no joy in that. The wonderful
feeling of a perfect Christmas cannot be fearfully thrown together. A happy
holiday just happens. A truly perfect Christmas happens organically. No matter
how by the book you follow a tradition, or if you decorated the tree just
right; the magic of a perfect Christmas is only conjured when you sit back,
relax, and let the joy of the season envelop you.
