Christmas time is a strange but beautiful time of year, I’m always chasing that Christmas feeling and I’m sad some years when it never comes. Being on the South West Coast with the possibility of snow at zero doesn’t help much either.
My husband never celebrated Christmas before me, as he grew up without them. So he tends to take my lead on just how festive we’ll be for the holidays. Considering how sick he’s been this past month, this year has been a ‘not even mailing Christmas cards’ kind of year. I’m trying my best for New Years cards, but it’s looking mighty slim. It’s just been tough keeping up with everything to be completely honest. My energy is depleted and I’m tired. I’m milking the fact that this is the last year I can get away with my minimalist approach to Xmas. Next year, Mia’s presents will need to be kept in a specific hiding place other than the car and we will probably indeed have to go visit Santa for her first time. I hope though when she’s 25 she won’t be shaming me for her not having her own ‘screaming baby on santa’s lap’ photo before the age of 3. I just don’t have the heart or enough caffeine or time for all 3 of us to stand in line at The Grove for an hour+ to meet the bearded man that my husband still doesn’t like and Mia will definitely hate. He asks me why we have to lie to our daughter about this fucking jolly guy in the first place and I tell him “just because!” That’s why.
I think about my family so far away this Christmas and the people who tried their hardest to keep traditions alive for me. It was truly all the women in my family. My aunts, my grandmothers, and my great gramma. My maternal grandmother, now just shy of 90 years old, raised my two younger brothers… And every year she did presents and stockings for not only them, but for me as well. She always made sure I had a stocking to open because she didn’t want me to feel left out. She’s seriously the most amazing woman for many reasons, but for loving us so much is number one. I see her getting older now and it hurts. She’s worked so hard her whole life, never being able to rest. She raised 4 children of her own, 3 of which were adopted and then when things got rough for my own mom, she became a mother again and raised my brothers. She’s a literal saint in my book. And she’s my hero.
We went home to Massachusetts last month to visit & Mia helped her put the ornaments on the tree. It was one of my absolute favorite parts of our trip. Some ornaments well over my mother’s age of 55. There were more than we could even fit on the tree. We literally ran out of room. What a beautiful problem to have. Mia was in heaven learning from her great-grandmother how to open the loops and put the ornaments on each branch.
In my motherhood now I know that the magic won’t simply come to me anymore, I am the magic. Such as the amazing women of my family, I must keep the magic going for my own family. I hope I can live up to how fucking great they are. xo Merry Christmas 🎄