Holiday spirit

Holidays have always been something that I associated with the memory of my mother. Growing up my mother and I shared the love of  Christmas and the entire season. Singing carols in the car and talking about if I thought I had been good and deserved all of the presents on my list. Watching QVC boxes flow in as she would try to convince me that it was the elves sending presents to us but they ran out of boxes.

I remember our season would start on the day after Thanksgiving when my mother would dig out all of the decorations from the basement. Or on the years she was sick she would send her boyfriend or one of my sisters to do it. When everything was brought upstairs my mother and I would put together our fake tree. I remember sorting the colored stems, making sure all of the branches were put in the right spot. At the very end of our decorating my mother would pull out the ceramic Santa, the one she had made before I was even born and we would search for the perfect spot to put him. He usually ended up in the same spot every year. On the top of the entertainment center. So that he was in clear view.

On Christmas eve I was allowed to open one present. A present that she picked out. And without fail, every year, I opened Pajama's. I'm not sure what it is with moms but every mom I know does this. They get their kids new Christmas PJ's. Just so that Christmas morning their kids look cute and happy in their new Christmas pajama's.

I never understood this until this year.

I want that. I want to be THAT mom. The mom that makes you take a 100 pictures with every single present on Christmas morning. The one that makes cookies on Christmas eve and puts out carrots for the reindeer. The mom that never forgets batteries and works all season long to make sure her kids have a magical day.

I want that.

Maybe it's the absence of Lydia but this year feels different. I feel less inclined to do my usual holiday stuff. Black Friday shop, make lists of things I want to make, decorate the house. All of it. Normally by now I am almost done with shopping. I have started to buy new ornaments and have already given Kevin a list full of fun things I want him to buy. I have always loved Christmas. But this year strangely, I'm already over it.

On Christmas Eve last year Kevin and I announced my pregnancy to all of our friends and family. At midnight we sat under our tree, him with a beer and me with a wine glass full of ginger ale and we exchanged our presents. We talked about how much fun this year would be. This year would be our very best year because Lydia would a part of it. But sadly she's not. This year Christmas is just another reminder of that. It's a reminder that no matter how many happy lists I make and no matter how much I try to fool myself, this year will not be a happy, Merry Christmas, kind of year. It will be a hurry up and just be over already kind of day.

And because of that I'm sad.