I’ve been a mom for three Christmases now, but I feel like this is the first year that it really counts.
This is the first year Oliver has been aware of Santa and knows all the lyrics to “Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer”. It’s the first year, due to my husband’s touring schedule, that I picked out, put up (Yes, I said put up. I slammed my forehead on a bookshelf in the process, but that ole tannenbaum is upright, dammit) and decorated the Christmas tree completely solo. And it’s the first year that I have pulled the “You better get back in bed because the elves are watching you with their spy glasses…” card to get my two-year-old to stay in his room.
Spy glasses? Yeah, I don’t know. That was a total misfire, but I panicked.
It’s been tremendously hectic and taxing, but for all the extra work and planning, and wrapping and nearly electrocuting myself by “testing” all the outdoor bulbs on a shoddy outlet after a snowstorm, being a parent at Christmas time is definitely all it’s cracked up to be.
Tonight I stayed up late, baking sugar cookies and peanut butter balls for a Christmas party and despite the fact that I now know why the term “microwave-safe dish” is a thing and that I’ve been chugging water like the cast of Lonesome Dove (that’s topical, right?) due to excessive sugar intake – I’m having an AWESOME time.
During Christmas time as a kid in the Barons house, I remember dying to know what was going on after we kids went to bed. What were Mom and Dad doing down there? Conference calls with Santa? Late night cookie-eating parties with sprinkle fights? Falling asleep on the couch after exactly seven-minutes of Seinfeld? Of course, it was most likely the latter, but in my mind, the possibilities were endless.
Now that I’m all grown up, and I actually am the adult downstairs doing all the fun Christmassy stuff, it’s profoundly satisfying. Of course, most nights end early with Brian and I passing out while playing Jeopardy! on my iPad, but on nights like tonight, when I can ignore my bed’s siren song, the giddiness of knowing the late-night, behind-the-scenes action of Christmas is profound.
Well, it’s either that, or I’m still riding a truly legit sugar high.