I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again; Christmas is my favorite time of year. I love everything about it…the Christ Child, the decorations, the get-togethers, the food, the giving.
Too bad it always seems that other aspects of life get busier at the same time. Each year I say I’m going to get a jump-start on the holiday prep so that there is more time to enjoy the season. Each year I drive my husband to the brink of holiday insanity as I’m scrambling to put up just one more decoration, send one more card, wrap one more gift, create one more memory (yes, that’s why this blog post is one day late!). Meanwhile I wonder why he doesn’t share my same level of excitement for the perfect tree topper.
I guess I used to think that the Christmas Holiday held the same kind magic for everyone. I remember way back to the Christmas when I was three. We spent Christmas Eve at Grandma and Grandpa Schwab’s farm in those days. I remember watching out the window for Santa, and then…The bells! The excitement! The flurry of activity! Suddenly, as if from nowhere, there were presents under the tree. I got a Betsy Wetsy that year. We ran out of cloth diapers in short order and had to resort to disposable Kleenex ones. They were a little big as I recall but a few pieces of Scotch tape solved that!
Those early Christmas memories are so vivid to me and that’s why I still find it hard to believe that my husband can hardly remember any of his. Early in our relationship I felt compelled to make Christmas an extra special time, partially for his sake, partially for my own. Yet each year led to disappointment as my efforts failed to get him any more inspired.
This was once a point of contention between us, but we’ve since been able to compromise. After 22 years of marriage it’s become a give and take; he humors me as I belt out my favorite Christmas carols and I cut him some slack when he’s not. As we’ve come to see it, Christmas just wouldn’t be the same without a Cindy-Lou Who and the Grinch.
Too bad it always seems that other aspects of life get busier at the same time. Each year I say I’m going to get a jump-start on the holiday prep so that there is more time to enjoy the season. Each year I drive my husband to the brink of holiday insanity as I’m scrambling to put up just one more decoration, send one more card, wrap one more gift, create one more memory (yes, that’s why this blog post is one day late!). Meanwhile I wonder why he doesn’t share my same level of excitement for the perfect tree topper.
I guess I used to think that the Christmas Holiday held the same kind magic for everyone. I remember way back to the Christmas when I was three. We spent Christmas Eve at Grandma and Grandpa Schwab’s farm in those days. I remember watching out the window for Santa, and then…The bells! The excitement! The flurry of activity! Suddenly, as if from nowhere, there were presents under the tree. I got a Betsy Wetsy that year. We ran out of cloth diapers in short order and had to resort to disposable Kleenex ones. They were a little big as I recall but a few pieces of Scotch tape solved that!
Those early Christmas memories are so vivid to me and that’s why I still find it hard to believe that my husband can hardly remember any of his. Early in our relationship I felt compelled to make Christmas an extra special time, partially for his sake, partially for my own. Yet each year led to disappointment as my efforts failed to get him any more inspired.
This was once a point of contention between us, but we’ve since been able to compromise. After 22 years of marriage it’s become a give and take; he humors me as I belt out my favorite Christmas carols and I cut him some slack when he’s not. As we’ve come to see it, Christmas just wouldn’t be the same without a Cindy-Lou Who and the Grinch.
Kim
Sister of Soul
Soulspiration of the Week:
“What if Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store? What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more.” ~Dr. Seuss
“What if Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store? What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more.” ~Dr. Seuss
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