All I want for Christmas

I can pretend it’s because I’m selfless and nonmaterialistic, but the truth is I’m an adult with poor impulse control and enough disposable income that I tend to just buy what I want all year round.

I’m either super frugal and refuse to spend a dime even on needed things.

“Food? I just bought food LAST MONTH? There is still some cereal dust in the bottom of that box. Shake it!”

Or, I’m spending on crazy things with wild abandon.

“Yes I know it was expensive but it’s a genuine, antique, glass front cabinet that we don’t need or want but it’s UNIQUE!”

There is literally no in between with me. So I veer between trying to come up with really practical gift ideas or something super fun.

This is how you get baking sheets (still love them!) and massages (ditto!) for Christmas.

Deep

Still, as a grown adult type person (in age if not in mind anyway) I feel like I should ask for things with a deeper meaning.

What do I want this year? Let’s see, financial security. A sense of purpose and a nap would be nice.

As a parent of young adults, the “magic” of the season has been replaced with comfortable love for family traditions and lots of laughter as we reminisce about Christmas past.

It’s not a bad gig by any means. Frankly, it’s kind of nice to be able to put out the presents and go to bed at a decent hour.

By this I mean 9:30 p.m. I still need MY sleep so Santa can come.

As a parent, I want my family whole and happy. I want the glitter and the magic of Christmas. I want it all to telescope back through the years.

Memories

I want to remember the light crunch of Christmas morning snow and the hushed and quiet towns we rolled through on our way to my grandparents home for Christmas brunch.

This would be followed by going over the river and through the woods to my other Gram’s home where the scent of turkey and a fresh Christmas tree would greet us.

A rush of cousins and hugs would envelop the chaos of the day into the late night when we would lay on the floor and stare up at the glow of the tree.

In later years, we spent Christmas Eve with Mr. Wonderful’s people. The wrapping paper and laughter floated through the air.

We carried exhausted toddlers home to read The Night Before Christmas.

Later the correct placement of cookies for Santa and carrots for the Reindeer was of the utmost importance.

“Santa” still recalls with an equal mixture of humor and horror the 11th-hour note left that read “Dear Santa please don’t forget to bring a present for my cat.”

Santa, however, had forgotten. Fortunately, Daddy could give up some beef jerky and cheese for the cause.

Santa’s reputation held for another year.

We have ridden the Polar Express to our everlasting delight. We have ridden around looking at Christmas lights, too. We have visited Santa in shops and in stores.

We have hoped that Christmas would be just a little more. We have attended beautiful church services to make sure it was.

We have locked ourselves out of cars, had a ceiling collapse and driven through a snowstorm on Christmas, too.

Not to mention the memorable year of the Christmas flu.

Through the years from childhood to now, the many seasons have flown past. Still, each Christmas season has left us a memory that we enjoy anew as the season comes again.

This year my gift is that our children are healthy and whole with many amazing adventures, friends and opportunities. I am grateful for peace and health and love and career opportunities once undreamt of.

I am thankful for the gift of good friends, loving family and the kind of job one can only dream of having. That being said, I’m truly down to practical wish lists and a chance to embrace the many wonders of the season year round.

This isn’t to say there isn’t still something I would like to ask of the Jolly Old Elf himself.

Dear Santa, when you get here could you please take off your shoes, start a load of laundry, and put the cookie plate in the dishwasher? Thanks!