Christmas with kids is a whole new type of Christmas. If it weren’t for my obsessive list making habit, I couldn’t do it. I have a list for what to buy, a list for what to do, a list for Christmas cards, a list for Steve, and an ever-mounting list of things to wait and tackle after Christmas. I never realized the work that went into being Santa Claus as well as a parent, the work of keeping things even and fair, even if one kid is much easier to buy for than the other.
This is my first day all week not to spend a half hour in line at the post office with two young shrieking children. I have given up on rehanging each of the ornaments that the boys pull down, and have instead shoved the casualties into a drawer. I am attempting to handle it all with poise and calm, but it is tough when Holden is pulling down little Christmas trees and shattering shatterproof ornaments.
Despite the headache for adults, this all a part of the magic of Christmas for children. We do these things because they will always remember these Christmas seasons fondly, and one day, might even attempt to duplicate some of our family traditions, the way I did mine. So regardless of the fact that I am tired and should be doing some calming yoga, I will spend the afternoon making my mom’s Christmas dessert recipe that I loved, and then I will clean up afterward.
‘Tis the season, after all. And like all seasons, this too shall pass. Until, of course, it comes around again.
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