Harder than I thought

There's something about Christmas Eve. 

When I was a kid, it was my favorite day of the year.  I got to go with my dad and open presents.  Then to his family's and open more presents.  Then to more family to eat tamales.  Then he took me home where my grandma would be waiting up for me.  She would listen intently to all of my excitement, and then she sent me on my way to bed.  Of course, once I got old enough, she stopped waiting for me to go to bed.  When I got home that night, she would have already stuffed the stockings and placed the presents under the tree.  But she was still there, waiting for me when I got home.

Now that I'm the mama, most of the magic is gone.  (I say most because there's really nothing more magical than seeing the excitement in the eyes of your children.)  Now, I take my kids with me to their grandpa's to open presents.  Then we pack up the car and drive to more family to open more presents and play with cousins they really only see on Christmas and Easter.  Then we drive all the way back home quietly (mostly in hopes that they'll stay asleep once we arrive).  Every year, it gets a little harder to stay awake until I'm sure they're asleep.  Now I see why my grandma gave up eventually!

Also, every year about this time, I really miss her.  I miss the silly things she put in my stocking.  I miss the way she wore her Santa hat while sipping coffee & smoking.  I wish she was around to let me know if I'm doing this right.

This will be the first holiday that I'm on my own with the girls.  I naively thought it would be easier than this.  Putting on the smiley face for them is so much easier on a regular day.  I would give absolutely anything to be at my grandma's house tonight.  Warm & safe & secure in the knowledge that, in the morning, everything will be magical.  Instead, I will wait up late tonight until I know there are sugarplums dancing in the heads of my three girls.  I will pull out all of the presents and the stocking stuffers and quietly get them ready for the morning.  Then, in the morning, I will pull out all of the magic my grandma gave me over all of the years and sprinkle it on the three most important people in the world.  And, hopefully, all they'll remember about this Christmas is that it was just as amazing as every one that came before and after.

Quick note

I haven't been posting lately because I haven't had anything funny/witty/light hearted to say.  And, honestly, this won't be any of those things either; but, I'm tired of screaming inside about it.

This was Maya putting on her clothes after her winter dance recital yesterday.  Yes, the polka dot pettiskirt & polka dot legwarmers are her regular clothes.  Watching the recital with us were people who supposedly know my girls very well.  And yet, one of them still asked if this was her costume. Well...

Here is Maya in her "costume" at the park

and at a party

and watching tv

and playing outside.

I am quite confident that, if you looked at my daughter through an x-ray machine,  you would see she is filled with crinoline and tulle.  She is happiest in big, frilly, poofy clothes.  And, who wouldn't want to make their kid smile if all it took was a silly outfit? 

So, no, I am not a pageant mom.  No, I don't force my child to dress up for my own amusement.  If you saw the other two girls, you would know that this is not of my doing.  Maya is her own person.  Yes, it would be much easier sometimes if she would just put on a pair of jeans and tennis shoes.  But, that wouldn't be Maya.  So, I will continue to buy her pettiskirts, tutus, and sparkly shoes until she grows out of this faze.  Or, I will buy them until she's old and gray.  Either way, she will always be too fabulous for anyone who rolls their eyes and whispers about her mama when she walks by.