Christmas Eve

Right now, I am wishing I had one of those totally-on-top-of-it personalities. Alas, I do not. I'm feeling panicked about my Santa Claus duties: will the kids like their gifts? Will I have disappointed any of them? Is everything evenly dispersed? And about my culinary traditions: the caramel isn't made yet; I did make a batch of fudge but it turned out so disastrously that it was inedible; I haven't made cookies for Santa yet. And slightly disturbed about the list of things I still have to do that I should have accomplished, somehow, this week, like mailing the Christmas cards (we took the photos back in October! like, before Halloween! why was it so hard to get it printed before yesterday?) (But, I did take some solace in the fact that there were twelve other harried mothers waiting in line at Costco to pick up their Christmas cards, too. At least I'm not the only one.), or finishing the little handmade gifts I was going to make for friends, or going to Temple Square to see the lights.

Plus I can't find Kendell's Christmas present. Like, seriously. I'm afraid I might have thrown it away. I don't know where. it. is.

And all this last-minute franticness is making me feel like once again I've missed the point. I so wanted today to be a peaceful one, when I wasn't in full-out panic mode. Because I wanted to feel the spirit of Christmas. I wanted to savor just being with my kids. I wanted to feel like it was all to celebrate Christ's birth, not to celebrate getting and spending.

But, alas, I didn't manage it. So, once more into the fray. But I'm trying to keep this little fragment of poem (which I just memorized) in my heart as I go, just in case:

Then sped my thoughts to keep
     that first Christmas of all
When the shepherds watching
     by their folds ere the dawn
Heard music in the fields
     and marveling could not tell
Whether it were angels
     or the bright stars singing.
                             (Robert Bridges)

I hope your Christmas eve and Christmas day are full of peace and joy!

Comments

[Melissa Kaiserman]

I love your thoughts, Amy. (And I hope you find Kendell's gift!)

Merry Christmas!

[cris]

Ahh Amy - hang in there it'll come together! I had to laugh when you mentioned finding Kenell's gift, becaue I was going through the exact thing last night... with the same worry, I thought I'd thrown my husband's gift out. I worried all day long and then when the kids finally went to bed, I tore apart our closet and finally found it - whew! :) I hope you find it, but if you don't it's not the end of the world (that's what I kept telling myself last night).

Wishing you and your family a wonderful Christmas!

[Kim]

Amy, I was like you at Christmas (I work full time) before I took Cut the Crazy out of Christmas. I now enjoy Christmas. Yes, I still do all the work, but I plan it (not in my nature) and it allows me time to sit and enjoy the lights. Maybe you can talk BPC into offering it again. And if not, don't sweat it. Your children will still have wonderful Christmas memories. If one of them is disappointed a bit, then they will learn that you don't always get everything you want. Santa won't die without cookies at the Sorensen house - if there are no cookies, put out something else - carrots for the reindeer or something. And sit down, look at the pretty lights, drink something you like and listen to some Christmas music. God wouldn't want you harried and unhappy. Love that poem . . . . makes me smile and almost tear up at the same time.

[Helena]

Merry Christmas!

[Jody]

I know all of those feelings you just described and I don't even have children. My Christmas was better this year but not where I wanted it to be. I WILL make next Christams better. :)

I have a poem that repeats itself in my head whenever I get scared, nervous, stressed, frenzied, etc. It's by Carol Lynn Pearson and it reminds me that I am MORE than I think I am. Hope you don't mind me sharing it with you.

I dim, I dim
I have no doubt
If someone blew
I would go out.

I did not
I must be brighter
Than I thought.