Merry Christmas Eve! I’m not giddy.

My kids are giddy with excitement. How will they ever wait until Christmas Day?  Oh, the anticipation!

I’m less giddy.  In fact, I’d have to say I’m mostly weary.  I don’t feel any Christmas magic, no holiday glow.  That’s how it is when you’re the mom, the Man Behind the Curtain who makes all the magic happen.

Plus, my house is an absolute wreck because all the kids have been home wreaking havoc while I’m sitting at my desk working.  (But I have two whole days off, following by the weekend, so I must admit to feeling giddy about that).  Tomorrow, everyone will be helping clean up.  Merry Christmas Eve, kids!

Last year at this time snow covered everything and we were essentially housebound.  This year we’re going to the Christmas Eve service at Mars Hill where Grace will be performing Christmas carols with a children’s choir.  I am looking forward to that.  She can’t wait to wear her beautiful dress and her shiny black shoes with heels.  To finally have a child who loves shoes is a delight.

I have managed to get all the gifts wrapped and the stocking stuffers organized.  I baked a batch of cookies but took them all to a Christmas party, so I might bake tomorrow.  I’m not sure.  I don’t want to be totally stressed out in the kitchen all day.  I think tidying up is more important.

But not as important as sleeping in.  After so many years of being woken early by children I have fully embraced the luxury of sleeping in again.  Also?  I’m reading Jeannette Walls’ The Glass Castle and all I really want to do is finish reading it.  It would probably be irresponsible of me to sleep in and then read instead of springing out of bed like an industrious homemaker and baking a few batches of cookies.  I’ll let you know who wins:  The Industrious Homemaker or the Slothful Sleepy Reader.

Last night I wrote my Christmas letter.  I finished it at almost 3 a.m., but it needs revision and sprucing up.  It’ll be sent out by Valentine’s Day at the very latest.  Well, perhaps St. Patrick’s Day.  Let’s not rush into these things.  If you send your letter out really late, you discover who is only sending you a card because you sent one first.  So there’s that.

I’ve been writing annual Christmas letters since 1991–I have a file of them (I’m missing one year, the year Grace was born).  I read through them all last night (seeking inspiration).  It’s such an odd thing to read a year-by-year summary of life, all the way from being a childless couple to being the parents of four kids, including two that are almost 17.  It’s almost as strange as reading Christmas letters from friends who include photographs of their children GETTING MARRIED, especially when you knew the friends before they even gave birth to those particular kids.

It’s all proof of one thing.  We are getting old.  As if the mirror hadn’t mentioned that fact to me already.

Merry Christmas Eve!  May you experience Christmas peace and perhaps the joy of doing what you want at some point over the next four days.  Even the Man Behind the Curtain deserves a break from time to time.

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Merry Christmas Eve! I’m not giddy.

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