Christmas Eve, Eve. When my youngest son was little, we would do the eve...eve...eve thing for days. On the 18th of December, he knew just how many eves to tack on.
I would give everything I own to go back to those days of Christmas wonder and hope. When the kids were little and Santa was on his way...when the house was full of love and wonder and great smells from the kitchen. When I, as mommy, could make all the hurts better and see the joy on those beautiful faces. Everything...in a heartbeat. That's what this time of year is all about.
I am about prepared for the big day, other than the cleaning and cooking. We braved the cold and crowds to go to the grocery store last night, it wasn't as bad as I had expected, we were in and out in under an hour. $165 later, we were finished. Today, I have to bake and cook - as our family celebration will be here on Christmas Eve night. On Christmas day, each of the kids has elsewhere to be and Mark and I are driving to the Quad Cities to spend the day with my youngest sister, Shell and of course her girls - Carli and Alex (and Rob too). I certainly hope this time we can actually get there, as we were supposed to go this past Saturday and we had to turn around, the weather was just too awful.
My youngest is actually supposed to help me today, he is the king of the chocolate-dipped pretzel...and not too bad at decorating a sugar cookie. He is my Christmas kid. The other two like it okay, but he is Christmas through and through. He will be a great father someday.
I hope this day is wonderful for each of you. Hugs.