It is Christmas Eve, 11:00 P.M.. My babies and my husband are all tucked into bed and sleeping soundly. I have just finished all my last minute Mommy/Santa duties in preparation for tomorrow. And now, here I sit, trying to quiet my mind and focus on what tomorrow is, instead of all the things I have to do. My brain is spinning with checklists and chores, and cook times, and coordinated outfits, even though I know that none of these things actually matter.
This is a special Christmas for us. They all are in their own ways. For us, this Christmas is my six month old daughter’s first. That makes it special. My son is celebrating his third Christmas, although I really feel as if this is the first year he gets it. This year, he was excited, anticipating the visit from Santa and all of the parties. He has been asking for a race car from Santa for weeks now.
My sweet boy. All that kid wants is a race car. (Spoiler alert: He is getting a remote control Lightning McQueen and I am PUMPED for him to open it.) Just a race car! That is all it will take to make his little heart satisfied? And every time I hear him ask for it, my thoughts shift to what my own Christmas list would be, if I still believed that a jolly old man with a sleigh could bring me anything I wanted.
Mommy’s Christmas List
Safety and happiness for my babies – forever.
I spend so much time worrying, sometimes irrationally, about what hurt my kiddos might one day face in this scary world. Everything from a bully at school to a car accident. I worry about them constantly. A guarantee that they will always be okay would be nice.
Enough time together.
I am a mostly stay-at-home mom. My husband has been blessed with a job with very flexible hours. We are not one of those families who never see each other or have conflicting schedules. But it doesn’t matter. I am not sure if it’s our culture or just our personalities, but we seem to do a damn good job of filling up our calendar just the same. I so often feel as if I am not an active participant in my life. We just go through the motions to get to the few days in between the rest where we can rest, enjoy each other, and breathe.
To give less shits.
Can Santa do that? Can Santa alter my brain so that I stop caring so much about things that don’t matter? I am such a stick in the mud sometimes. I know I am. I really feel that if I am not such a stickler, my household will fall apart and my children will starve. But neither of those things will happen. I know that. So if Santa could bring me the ability to loosen up and enjoy my life, that would be great. Okay, Santa?
A grateful heart.
Holy cow, am I blessed! Some of the things that preoccupy us are really stupid. Some of the things we think will make such a difference in our lives, in our happiness, are really quite ridiculous. I would be willing to bet that most of us already have everything we need to be truly content in our lives, if we turned our attention to those things that matter most, good relationships and a giving spirit.
I had to say it. Just because it’s a cliche doesn’t make it untrue. I could use a LOT more sleep.
Speaking of which, going to bed now. Merry Christmas, guys.
What’s on your Mommy Christmas list?
What have you been reflecting on this Christmas season?