Friday, December 25, 2009

This is the One

This is the one wish for you I have on Christmas.

I wish you could see my Sam, the faithful, the fierce, so noble and good. I wish you could see him in his brand-new jammies, eager and excited, waiting patiently to be given the 'ok to open' signal. The imposition of restraint on Christmas morning, a tried and true parental inside joke, is wasted on this boy. He is possessed, with good measure and even better sentiment, of a rightness that makes his center impossible to challenge. He is what prevails when goodness is tested. In fact, he is the enduring goodness that awaits us all. I wish you could feel that. I'm sure it would give you the confidence it gives me that all is right with the world, no matter the troubles of the day.

I wish you could see my Sara tripping down the stairs, bounding through the halls, then tiptoeing into our bedroom, long before the sun comes up, to reassure her densely sleeping parents that Santa, indeed, did come. Had only we known... My Sara, so alive and giggly and noticeable; so shy, intimidated - so like me - she reflects the most hidden pieces of me. I wish those pieces were as beautiful, as graceful and delicate in me as they are in her. I wish you could know her, as I do, to be the magic that speaks only in the shimmer of stars and the twinkle of lights lost in a horizon. She is the vibe in the room, the excitement in the crowd, the ear-to-ear grin that erupts for no good reason at all. I wish you could see that. I'm sure it would give you the joy that must be the meaning and purpose of all life.

I wish you could experience the spirit and joy of my Lucy, so much the young lady, squealing with delight when she receives the long-awaited gift on Christmas morn', from Santa, of course. Would it be a shame to take pleasure in whatever baby-like qualities remain? No matter, I do. Though even as they fade, there is a bloom about her that is unflolding, softly, sweetly, not without thorns but lovely in anticipation. She reaches out to receive a life where the hint of who she is will be revealed in finest splendor for all the world to enjoy. This, under the gaze of a generous and doting sun, washed by the wishes of those who love her - adore her - and rooted in the strength of character she's possessed long before this change could stall or stray her. I wish you could be with me to see it all, and I wish it would give you the fullness of heart it gives me.
So this is the one wish: I wish you the confidence to dream and dream big, it is a beautiful world; the joy to live, really live, with a broad smile about the whole thing; and the reason, whatever it may be, to open your heart and fill it with all that is here, and all that will come. And may God bless you and keep you now and always. Merry Christmas.

Thursday, December 17, 2009

The Holiday Random Post

Who knows when I'll get back to this, so all the random holiday thoughts I can muster are here to ornament your memories of the season.

I totally love red christmas balls. Can't say that around my son without infecting the house with giggles and snickers. Ah, the nine year old boy's sense of humor...

I wish I could be a million sparkles shining down on everyone I love during this season. Instead, I'm a million wishes in a dollar store gift bag.

People who work at the dollar store during a down economy should be given TARP money for all they suffer at the hands of overwrought customers trying to tie together a million-dollar look for under three bucks. God bless them one and all.

Cleaning house day for the holidays ought to be a federal holiday. A gal can't work and do that at the same time.

My hot chocolate is always either too sweet or too bland or too hot to drink until it's too cold. Is it too much to ask for the ability to make a dang good cup of hot chocolate?

On that note, mini marshmellows simply don't do it for me. I prefer one big fluffy marshmellow melting all across the top of the cup. Which never happens for me because I can never get the temperature right.

I let my husband pick out the Christmas tree this year and he, of course, picked the least expensive tree in a variety of pine that I loathe. Sadly, the tree is gorgeous and now I'm forced to tell him that all the time.

Lucky for me, he won't remember it three days after it's down and I'll make sure to remind him next year that I hated it.

Why is it that no matter how much I try not to meet new people or make new friends my Christmas list becomes exponentially larger every year? I suppose it doesn't help that my extended family keeps having babies in twos.

As an added bonus during the craze, my body apparently experiencing global warming. I'm freezing all the time. Except when I'm boiling hot. This could explain the hot chocolate debacle. Or be a sign of things to come. Yeesh.

That said, at my ripe old age I still have no idea what to get for my mother. It's the bane of my holiday season. Aside from the temperature problem, that is.

My babies still believe in Santa. Or pretend to for my benefit. Either way, I love it. Gives me hope that innocence still has a place in the world. It's upstairs tucked into bed.

When it's all said and done the tire, the mire and high-wire act one must perform to participate in the celebrations of the season should leave one spent and flushed but thoroughly pleased. If that works out for you, let me know?

Funny how my homemade gifts still require the use of technology that to generations before mine would have seemed alien in concept, much less application. So, by 1920s standards, I'm as cutting edge as a space shuttle vacation on Mars!

Also, is it me, or has anyone else noticed that just about everything on Star Trek is now normal, every day stuff? That's just wackadoodle.

The nearer we draw to the end of the year, the more I'm compelled to reflect and remark upon the sheer thrill of surviving it all, not just me, but everyone I know. I'm also compelled to wonder how in creation we'll keep it up. But then, that's the fun of it, isn't it?

The smile being the best accessory to any outfit, I'm wondering if my jeans could get on board and just suck in my hips for me when I grin from ear to ear. Their lack of cooperation making for less-than-favorable reaction from the full-length mirror. While I wait, the waist-high wall mirror will have to suffice.

I love, love, love the smell of Christmas candles in every variety. Except that gawd-awful spiced cake thing I got a couple of years ago at an outlet store. Smells like spiced foot. I swear I've thrown it out eleven times and every year it resurfaces.

I blame my mother.

It's got nothing to do with her. It's just simpler to keep all the blame in one column. Sorry Mami.

And while we're on the subject of sorry, let me insert a blanket 'sorry' here for all the folks I'd love to love more often, especially during holidays, with more attention and more time, but simply can't. I'm starting to think that guilt manifests itself in me physically as hair, which is why I look like a female version of that hairy character in the Harry Potter movies. Something to think about come resolution time. Must get a guilt-cut.

As for resolutions, I'll have more to say (natch) but for now, this: I resolve to keep at it. To keep trying, to keep my head up, to keep smiling, to keep expecting the best and bracing for whatever comes with the best cheer I can gather and the most strength I can find, offering the best care and most love I can give, until I'm thoroughly spent, flushed, and pleased. When that happens, I'll order a nice cup of hot chocolate from someone who knows what they're doing, and rest.

Sunday, December 13, 2009

Insert Title Here (I can't think of one)

First, in case I never get back to it, Happy Holidays to everyone!

I'm sure my uber-Christian brothers and sisters at Fox cringe when they hear that, even from this distance. (They are far, right?) It's only because their little X-Mas Elf ears affect their hearing. Not news to the rest of us but apparently, over at Fox News, they haven't heard yet that the world - nay even our country - is not entirely made up of people who believe Christ is the son of God... GASP! Avert your eyes Sean, Bill, Glenn. It's ugly.

I will say in defense of the 'Save Christmas Patrol' on FNC, I have the same reaction when I find out some people are not Cubs fans. That boggles.

Next, I've so so so much work in front of me in every direction, just thinking about it makes me tired. Do you feel that way? I used to look at tons of work and purposely ignore it and go have fun. The youthful me was such an optimist. "I'll have time later." The current me knows there is no time later that isn't filled with something.

Also, along those lines is it me or is 'God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen' offensive? Men need a song now to tell them to relax during the holidays? Please.

On another 'is it me?' front - British accents are usually very pleasant. Except during holiday season (attack of the flying tea bags!) when they seem snooty to me. Right?

Went to the office holiday party (is that Greta Van Susteren coming at me?) and all the babes in the office were hanging all over my husband. Husband soaked it up with a big smile most of the night. Mock jealous rage ensued. Couldn't help a smug smile on the way out with my party-hit of a man.
Went to my kids' holiday concert (watch for flying 'no-spin' gear) and was completely renewed in my faith that no matter the troubles anywhere, all is right with the world. Beautiful children, with hopeful voices, learning to overcome nervousness and worry with hard work and dedication; learning that no matter how different they all are when they come together it is beautiful; finding ways to share each other through a universal language; millions of ways to enjoy that evening and the lilt of loveliness in the air was only one of them.
Went to a friends' holiday celebration (look out! they've launched the Rove!!) last night. She had been having lavish holiday parties for years and then started taking each year's down a notch on the extravagance scale as the economic faint of the last few years took hold. Finally, last night, she did a pot-luck. I think she was a little worried about how it would turn out. It was fantastic! The luxury of old was replaced by an abundance of beautiful dishes carefully crafted by those wanting to impress with their offerings - they all did, generous amounts of wine, the good, the mediocre and the 'who cares, it's wine', and people, all different kinds, shapes and struggles, just happy to be together. It was beyond delicious all the 'way round and I was so pleased for her that it truly was an evening of celebration.
Last, just curious. Why is it that when we see people wear elf outfits for holiday events (did you see that Hannity mug fly by?) we think it's cute and it makes us smile - but when I go out in my little elf hat and shoes, everyone steers clear of me? Is that fair? Or balanced? Don't answer that.