The Small Stuff at Christmas

This is going to sound awful but, in a way, I kind of don’t like Christmas. There’s always too much pressure to make it the “perfect Christmas”. This usually starts on Thanksgiving Day when we turn on the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade and the feeling escalates even more in the last five minutes when Santa makes his appearance announcing the beginning of the Christmas season. I try to enjoy myself but there’s always something. The top half of our pre-lit Christmas tree has a short in it and won’t light up. We don’t have enough tabletops in our house to put all the decorative knick-knacks. The kids won’t sit still long enough for me to get a good shot of them for the Christmas cards. The house is full of dust, dog hair, and clutter. What does my family want as gifts? What do my in-laws want? I even start second-guessing myself on my own kids’ presents. Husband keeps trying to get me to slow down on these holidays and enjoy myself and the family more but I’m not sure “slowing down” is even in my genetic make-up. I’m trying. I remind myself every day that this is the season of giving, of enjoying family and good friends and not worrying about the small stuff.

Frances Mayes wrote in her book “Under the Tuscan Sun” about the winter season and Christmas. “Pagan, I suppose I am, but I think what a glorious metaphor the birth is at year’s end, the dark and dead end of the year. The one cry of the baby in the damp straw and death is denied.”
I love that line. I always thought the birth of Christ was kind of poetic and romantic. Two people, cold and alone, looking for a place to stay the night, end up in a stable and come out the next morning a family. This is the true meaning of Christmas, not the food and wrapping paper, the internet orders that aren’t going to get here on time or the lights on the house that aren’t twinkling correctly. It doesn’t matter what time of year Jesus was actually born because this is the time of year that every Christian comes out of the woodwork to celebrate His birth and life here on earth. It’s the one time of year mankind even thinks about behaving absolutely magical to each other. And it’s time for me to join in.

Starting now I will remember that life goes on – long after the Christmas season. The decorations will be beautiful and the food will taste great. Dust doesn’t matter to family and our kids still believe in Santa. God is in His Heaven and all is right with the world.

Merry Christmas to you all and May your good fortune last all year long!

My Christmas Season

I’ve spent the last two weeks breaking up fights between a five year old girl and an almost two year old boy. There has been lots of screaming and crying (to be honest - not just from the children). I was at my rope’s end. Finally, this past weekend, we decided to pull out the big guns. That’s right - Santa, baby. Matthew doesn't seem to understand the concept of Santa but I kept telling Savannah on Saturday how Santa doesn’t like whiny crying children who disobey their parents. She kept promising to do better. Then, on Sunday, my husband pretended to call Santa concerning her behavior in church and Savannah went ballistic - tears everywhere, pleading with him at top volume not to tell Santa to skip our house this year. I "called" Santa again this evening and another waterworks broke out along with apologies. Then she got to work cleaning up the living room without being asked.
This procedure has worked better than I thought. I really don’t know what we’re going to do once Christmas is over.

My Birthday

I turned thirty-seven on November 21st. Two days later I found a gray hair. Right on the top of my head along my part line. I felt kind of depressed all day. In fact I still do because, you see, gray hair is not just gray - it's thicker than the other hairs and very coarse so, where my blonde hair lays flat against my head - this one was sticking out a little as if it were announcing itself to the world.
I always thought I would take it in stride but it really hurts my feelings to be getting gray already. I even pulled it out to make sure it was really gray and not just really light (and yes, I know what they say about every one you pull out). I needn’t have worried. I’m old.