The girls have been making their Christmas lists.
Mostly the expected things.
A Kindle, a Barbie Jeep, a real working camera.
My youngest, Paige, ever the warrior child,
has requested two main things:
A force-field,
and for someone to be kind enough to fully fund three days for her in Reno at Circus Circus.
Where she is concerned, though, I guess those should be considered expected things, too.
(Also of note: Now accepting applications for help wrapping a force-field)
The girls have been bouncing off the walls the last few days, resulting in the standard threats to stop the car,
or to return every gift.
Barking, “IT IS CHRISTMAS SO YOU’D BETTER BE HAPPY,” reminding me of the time I heard a comedian say that she told her kids,
“YOU ARE GOING TO BE HAPPY EVEN IF I HAVE TO KILL YOU TO MAKE IT HAPPEN!”
Yes.
We Mother’s are often the gift.
Let’s just say
I’ve sent them outside for LOTS of fresh air.
My mom gently reminding today when she saw my glazed, distant look,
that they’re just excited;
That “this is how children get.”
I do remember being that age.
I remember some things that I asked for, and a few of the things that I actually got,
but even as I child I remember craving the MOMENTS as much as all of the other things.
The traditional placement of our holiday moose…
The decoration of our Christmas tree…
Hearing my mother’s voice;
and I know that if you asked my girls what their favorite memories of Christmases past were, they would answer “Feeding the reindeer” instead of mentioning presents.
“Feeding the Reindeer” a tradition involving throwing handfuls of glitter-infused dry oatmeal up into the night sky until it practically covers the road.
Neighbors love us.
I can remember how I would ask my mom every year what she wanted for Christmas,
and how every year she would tell me the same thing,
“Oh Honey, you don’t have to get anything for me.”
I always felt sad hearing her say that.
My mom worked so hard for us, and never saved much for herself.
I wanted her to have a THING.
But the older I get, the more I understand what she was meaning,
because as I’ve grown older,
I don’t really want anything either.
Now what I want is the FEEL of it.
The way that it warms up the room.
I can do without any token gift.
Just give me golden lights flickering on red and green.
Now I want things like this night I’ve just had.
A wonderful night full of family and laughter,
and a quiet card game.
Of the scent of gingerbread baking, and
of watching the dogs nuzzled up together, asleep.
A wonderful night that came by surprise after a morning that did not start off very well.
A surprise Gift of Moments.
The best kind of gift.
Tonight, after thinking about all these things,
I came across something I’d written last year – the first Christmas following the fire that destroyed a large part of our city.
I found in that time that my priorities had shifted,
after seeing first-hand how quickly material things can be taken away:
“I am SO underprepared for Christmas this year.
I just can’t bring myself to care about the STUFF.
The stores. The plastic. The batteries.
I’ve been walking the aisles with a cart that often stays empty,
because I can’t bring myself to buy just to buy.
When I think of what I actually want for Christmas,
what comes to mind is that
I want a tiny snowy cabin.
I want the light outside to glow light blue from the moonlight reflecting on snowy fields and trees.
I want to step onto a porch and be shocked at how the silence presses on my chest.
I want the windows to have a golden glow,
and my view to be of wood grain.
I want my girls in fairaisle socks drinking cocoa in low light, and the flicker of candles.
I want them tucked under soft worn quilts.
I want to think about things that bring a slow smile.
To sleep in heavenly peace.
This year I want a FEELING,
and that’s really hard to wrap.
Mom Outnumbered
Hi! My name is Kerri Green; Wife to Justin, and mother to four highly entertaining daughters -Alena, Chloe, Tessa, and Paige. I am an artist, a writer, a daycare provider, a lover of people, a believer that there is humor and beauty in all things, and the author of Mom Outnumbered; a blog about real family life, and my observations of it. My goal is to make people laugh, to be there for them when they cry, and most importantly, to let them know that they are not at all alone in this up and down world. I live with my family in Sebastopol California, and I am opening the window into our life. So welcome! Come in. Sit down. Just please don’t mind the mysterious wet spots.
