Some girls dream about their wedding day. Others dream about their future homes or their perfect jobs. When I was a little girl, I always dreamed of the day that my future family would have matching Christmas stockings. I just know that this is normal. Right? No? I'm the only one?
Okay, so I'm the only one. Regardless, I have dreamed of the day that I would hang my family's stockings on the mantle and they would all be matchy-matchy, and they would all be embroidered with our names--except for mine and BJ's, which I firmly wanted to spell "Mom" and "Dad." It only made sense to wait until our family was complete before spending money on stockings though, lest I be the fool who wanted a discontinued stocking once Baby #3 arrived. Since ordering these stockings in early November, I have suddenly become less sure that we are absolutely finished having kids, but that's a story for another day. Suffice it to say, in early November our family seemed complete (and it quite likely is), so I made the purchase.
I'm only sorry, Pottery Barn, that I hung these expensive stockings inside on the mantle, and not outside on a pasture fence for a horse to goober on.
This Christmas season is in many ways far less eventful than last year's. After all, there was no 9-1/2 pound baby birthed out of my body a week before Christmas Eve. Somehow, though, it all goes by too quickly. Much as I strive to not get over-stressed or overly-busy during the month of December, the last four weeks have been a doozy in terms of my time getting dominated. My bedtimes in the last week have ranged from 1:00AM to 2:30AM, and never sooner. I find that my time to begin on tasks like Christmas shopping, meal planning, and details like making Christmas cards is usually about 10PM, and that's if I don't have to write work reports. Plus on many nights I squeeze in a jog through the neighborhood Christmas lights to keep myself in shape and headed toward my running goals, if I haven't already run earlier in the day. The three boys have kept me happily busy during the day with playing, crafting, Taekwondo classes for Silas, and planning Van's first birthday party, plus keeping up with the duties like housekeeping, grocery shopping, and general slave labor for children who can't do much for themselves yet. We also went to Indiana for five round-trip days to visit some of BJ's extended family. The visit was wonderful and well worth it, though it required organization nearly beyond my capabilities. A few days ago I almost cried and suddenly had the absurd notion that this isn't even any fun, all of this busyness!
Wait a second--really? Time spent with family isn't fun? Finding the perfect gifts for the people we love to make happy is somehow not fun? Seeing Silas' face light up when making Christmas crafts isn't fun? Hearing the chorus of loved ones singing happy birthday to my baby isn't fun?
Remind me, folks, that if I ever get so wrapped up in my first-world, privileged glitter and somehow begin to think it all isn't worth it, that I need to be slapped silly. In the not-so-distant future there will be nights to sleep better and more hours to call my own. This time of hustle and bustle with three small children is fleeting, and my personal moments to myself during this Christmas season have been spent relishing the goodness of their little voices, bodies, and minds.
Love and merry holiday wishes to you all this week!