Christmas

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a control freak. Sometimes I make fun of Ken when he traces and re-traces over his handwriting. "You have a bad case of OCD," I say. What I fail to recognize is that I do as well. And celebrations/holidays bring out the worst in me. Luckily, I have had time to reflect on 'what went wrong' and have made it my mission to improve this "high expectations, need to control every little thing, crappy attitude" of mine.

I was excited to have my family over this Christmas. I love hosting parties and although all the preparation and execution can stress me out (just ask anyone who was there pre-wedding), I enjoy every bit of it. I learned how to make my first turkey AND ham this Christmas, the ham was delicious but the turkey, eh, it fell over in the stove and was still pink. Overall, a successful holiday dinner!

And now looking back on how frantic I became over the disorganization of presents being opened and the lack of paperplates and a messy tablesetting, I realize how stupid I was being. The little details are not what makes a holiday special. It's the togetherness, the love, the fact that a child with little expectations and a room full of people that would take a bullet for her was born earlier this year. I am fortunate to have a husband that understands how to calm me during these 'fits' and to bring me back in the moment. And my mother, always a source of entertainment gave me a good chuckle when I asked if anyone wanted to play phase ten. I quickly followed up with a completely different question asking which scent we wanted to smell in the warmer. "Campfire, cinnamon, or baking spice?" And my mom goes "I've never played that game!"

One of my favorite memories was the drive home on Christmas night. I had 4 different Christams dinners by then (one at my aunt's, my house, Grandma's, and Jean's boyfriend's family's) and reflecting on how lucky we are to have so much love. I had just calmed my baby down after a minor meltdown caused by my poor decision to have too much wine resulting in my milk being diluted and me freaking out that "I'm such a bad mother!!". And as we drove through the night with Christmas lights blurred through the windows singing "Home" by Philip Phillips, Kylan was clutching my finger tight as she drifted into a slumber (hopefully not a drunken one ;) and all was well.

Hold on, to me as we go
As we roll down this unfamiliar road
And although this wave is stringing us along
Just know you’re not alone
Cause I’m gonna make this place your home
Settle down, it'll all be clear
Don't pay no mind to the demons
They fill you with fear
The trouble it might drag you down
If you get lost, you can always be found

Just know you’re not alone
Cause I’m going to make this place your home
Ooo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo. oo-oo-oo-oo
Aaa-aa-aa-aa-aa-aa-aa. aa-aa-aa-aaaaaa

Kylan is still too young to understand what holidays mean and how crazy her mother is. And I can't wait for the day that she does. Becuase there's nothing better than the look a child gives you when they are mesmerized by holiday wonder and when she finally 'gets it.' Of course I plan on making Christmas cookies and leaving the infamous santa note with a glass of milk in the future. I will also be putting Ky's little hand prints on our tree skirt with fabric paint each year. Being someone who cherishes capturing memories to look back on, I hope she finds this to be as special as I do someday. Other traditions in the works including Christams pj's and a reading of 'Twas the Night before Christmas.

Some of her gifts this year:

The new year is almost upon us which means resolutions and reflections. I know handling my stress in a better way is one of them. More than anything I want to be a better role model for my innocent child.