December thoughts

I love Christmas.  I really think I do.  I love decorations, I love the songs, I love the excitement, I love gift shopping, I put up with wrapping (now that dog hair is everywhere in our house and sticks to the paper, some of my joy in wrapping has been depleted), I love the bustle, I love the food, I love the smells, I love the baking.  I generally am a huge Christmas fanatic right up until Christmas Eve itself.

Generally on Christmas Eve, I go into somewhat of a sad mood.  Every.  Year.  I fight the whatever it is that lurks on that evening and the next day every single year.  I think part of it is the looking forward to a perfect Christmas that never existed and never will exist – the kind of Christmas only in the movies or captured on a Norman Rockwell picture.  I can get it as close to perfect as a Christmas will ever get, but there is always something missing.

I know what that something is.  That something is a someone.  My mom.  I think, because I do have a little Norman Rockwell in myself, that she would have made every Christmas very perfect.  My grown-up brain realizes that she never would have had that ability, but my injured kid heart still has that dream.  A Christmas with the perfect decorations, perfect traditions, perfect food, perfect gifts on a perfect budget, perfect snowflakes falling, perfect attitudes, perfect family who wants to be together, perfect everything.  I mean everything.

I go out of my way to provide this perfect Christmas for my kids.  And then I think that at every Christmas Eve, I realize it isn’t going to be this year.  Or maybe deep down, I know that it will never be perfect.  Never.  And that is what makes me sad that night?  The kids don’t know – I am pretty sure the racing up and down the steps when he opened the Gameboy game he wanted, or the decorating of the house together, or the baking (or eating) the Christmas goodies will be the things the settle deep in the heart of my children.  Not the oops, we forgot to leave Santa cookies last year, or the fact that we never get to celebrate Christmas on Christmas with my side of the family, or that one year when we didn’t put up both trees because mom wasn’t in the mood.  Those aren’t the Christmas memories my kids will have when they grow up.  And maybe some day, one of them will figure out how to provide the Rockwell Christmas I am waiting for.  I just cant seem to pull it off.

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1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. Melissa Schmalenberger
    Dec 01, 2010 @ 18:29:06

    You are providing the perfect Christmas for them….see it through their eyes, because you are a superstar!

    Reply

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