Christmas

Holy. Cow. Christmas is over already. Wait...did Christmas even happen? I don't remember...it's all been such a blur...why are there pine needles in my hair? This year I got to experience Christmas in a totally different way: as the mom. I'm beginning to realize that for all holidays/celebrations, it isn't a 'time-off' for the mom. In fact, the mom is the one who does all of the work. Did you know, it took me about five days to pack up my family to travel out of town for Christmas? Five days. It's the MOM who has to do all the packing. Who has to do all the laundry? The mom. Who bakes all the Christmas goodies? The mom. Who puts together the Christmas cards? The mom. Who puts up all the decorations? The mom. Who does the shopping? The wrapping? The cooking? The cleaning? The list-checking? The MOM. And who gets all the credit? SOME FAT-MAN STRANGER WHO DOESN'T EVEN LIVE HERE! You have got to be kidding me.

But, one thing is for sure. I did get to experience Christmas in the best way that I ever have before. Nothing makes me happier than the sight of my beautiful, rosy-cheeked, sparkly-eyed, Christmas-dressed, curly-haired daughter get excited over the magic of Christmas. And nothing makes me smile more than watching my chubby, toothless, dimply son crinkle wrapping paper and giggle as his dad dangles ribbons over his toes. I realized something as I was wiping the Christmas-induced sweat off my forehead this year...I'll let the fat man take the credit for a while. When else, if not now, in their lives do they get to live a life that is so magical that there exists someone who can fly a sleigh in the sky? When else do they get to experience a magical time where elves make toys and fairies dance on sugar plums? So even though I am the one who does all the work, I know that someday probably all too soon, my kids will be grown and too old for things like Santa or Fairies. So until then I'll be a slave to the holidays if it means that for a moment we can let the magic fill our lives.