it's beginning to look a lot like christmas

(I apologize for the long-windedness of this post! I realize you all have better things to do right now than read my drivel, but as consolation, there's some knitting involved and I promise not to post again till after Christmas, so please bear with me! :-)

At t minus 4 days, it's beginning to look, smell and feel an awful lot like Christmas! As a child, I never quite realized how much work my parents put into making the Christmas season so magical and memorable for us. Full circle now as a mom, I take my hat off to my parents for managing to create the magic year after year without getting divorced in the process. As a kid, the only time separation seemed really plausible was during the setting up off the tree. My brother and sisters and I dreaded Tree Day. It was almost as bad as Window Washing Day, but usually with more profanity and threatening. Tree Day (which, you will notice, rhymes quite well with D-Day) always began with the proverbial noble vs. douglas fir debate and embroiled with the 6 foot vs. 7 foot debate. Apparently, year after year, nobody could remember whether our ceiling was 7 or 8 feet high, thus sparking the annual "How Tall?" debate. (Now you know where I get my tendency to "forget" to write down my little "pattern modifications.") This would result in my mom being royally pissed off before we'd even loaded up into our wood-paneled brown station wagon from the tree lot. Loading the tree up was an even riskier proposition, since my mom is a compulsive neat-freak. The nature of her disorder truly warrants capitalization- Neat Freak, Extraordinaire. Pine needles found anywhere other than the branches of the tree were grounds for decapitation in our house. Imagine my mom turning holly-berry red as the needles had the audacity to break off the tree, toying with her tenuous grip on sanity. It was not pretty. Neither was the garbage-bag lined demented "red-carpet" from our front door into our living room, that we so carefully tread, tree-in-arm, so as not to jostle any needles loose. Don't even get me started with the whole screwing-in-the-base -of -the- tree- while-ensuring- the -tree- is- perfectly- straight bit. By this point, my dad was undoubtedly calclulating alimony payments in his head while we progeny joyfully flocked to decorate the tree. In our hearts and our minds, this truly was the most joyful time of the year, as we reminisced about the history of each of the ornaments, remembering Christmasses of yesteryear. Of course, actually placing the ornaments on the tree was an entirely different deal courtesy of maternal OCD, but somehow I've repressed that part of the memory. As I grew older, I began to see the whole probable-grounds-for-divorce bit, but as a child, everything about Christmas was magical.

Fast forward several decades...determined to avoid the trauma of my youth, I really tried not to flip-out during Tree Day on Dec. 1st (Yes, I realize I've been very remiss about blogging!). I actually did quite well. No irreconcilable differences or anything. No debates, either. Slam, bam, 7-foot douglas fir, thank you, ma'am. I even managed to bite my tongue (hard) when Bossy and Stinky placed THREE of the same colored Macy's balls on the SAME branch. Aside from a bit of bleeding in my mouth, all went well. I'd even venture to say there was a bit of Christmas magic in the air...

I even managed to hold my tongue (albeit in a contortionist pose) as I watched Bossy and Stinky place all the candies and gum drops in one big glob on our gingerbread house. I think I even managed a smile as they tested whether the icing really kept the walls glued together. Just testing the laws of physics, right, smile, smile? I kept grinning as Stinky repeatedly dropped and retrieved candies from the floor and deposited them surreptitiously into her mouth. I vividly remember all those silver candy balls that never made it onto my mom's snowman cookies, having met a similar demise. Girlfriend, I invented that trick! Christmas magic is definitely tricky...

I gritted my teeth as I worked on my sister, Fredo's tote bag. Let me tell you, trying to figure out intarsia-isle (my own freaky mix of colorwork) for the first time while frantically trying to finish gifts SUCKS EGGS! My only consolation is hoping that my sister, the Hello Kitty fanatic, will like her bag. I used the Microrevolt Knitpro site to chart a graphic I downloaded off the Internet. I've got most of the front and back done, with just a gusset to go. I'd hoped to have the tote done and lined in time for Holiday Countdown KAL day today, but now I'm just hoping to have it seamed by Christmas Eve. Christmas magic is believing...

I've kept a smile through the umpteenth replay of "The Christmas Gift of Aloha," a local show put on at the mall that Bossy and Stinky are obsessed with. Smiled while paying the exorbitant fee for the 5 minute (!) Candy Cane Train ride around the mall... that was worth every penny to see the exurberant smile on Bossy's face. Christmas magic is special...

Smiled while being visited by the Ghost of Christmas Reality, who announced that ain't no way all that knitting, baking, wrapping and shopping gonna get done in t minus 4 days and counting, especially with Bossy's birthday on the 16th and a belated party on the 23rd to contend with. I sent that ghost off on his merry way. Who could begrudge this beautiful child? Seems like only yesterday that the midwife placed that warm and slippery bundle of joy on my chest, initiating me into the world of motherhood. We survived the terrible twos, held our breath through the torrential threes and here we are today at four. (Somebody, please tell me that the alliteration for four is positive! Fantastic fours? Fabulous fours? Somebody, anybody?) My little baby, my little boy, my little man....where did the time go? Christmas magic is remembering...

And so, even though Stinky's advent cookie ribbon has been on "Christmas Eve" mode for the past 5 days since she snuck and ATE all her cookies last week, and even though our DIY Costco holiday cards will probably arrive after Christmas, it's all good. Somewhere, somehow, I think we've managed to nurture the magic and peace that Christmas is all about. I had one of those maybe-you're -doing-a-decent -job-as- a- mom moments when Bossy asked if we could buy a toy for kids whose parents can't afford Christmas gifts. And I realized that all that knitting, baking and wrapping...well, sure it's nice, but superfluous, really. Isn't it funny how the voice of a child can bring it all home to you in a single moment? The magic of Christmas is love....

And since our greeting cards have all been sent (C'mon, you all know what a Karen Carpenter freak I am, I had to fit that line in somehow! ), I thought I'd end by sharing the e-version of our (late-to-be!) paper greeting. Wishing you and yours a wonderful holiday, filled with love, joy and the magic of the season. . . Merry Christmas, everyone!!!