This December—like every other—has felt a little nuts to me.
I’m the kind of person who likes to think she’ll have all her ducks in a row for the holidays. Each year I tell myself the house will be clean and decorated by December 1st. I’ll do my shopping a little sooner. I’ll wrap the presents before Christmas Eve so I’m not scrambling at the last minute. I’ll bake more treats and deliver them to everyone we love.
But every year, I’m reminded of the chaos that is December—the chaos I often struggle to embrace. When the house is a wreck or someone has a sore throat or the present I ordered a month ago isn’t going to arrive on time, I tend to lose sight of the bigger picture.
The other night, though, as I watched my kids dance around in Santa hats to too-loud Christmas music, I was hit with a wave of something. Gratitude, maybe? Peace? Understanding?
In that moment, I realized nothing matters more than this truth: These years—these messy, busy, flying by the seat of my pants Decembers when I run on less sleep and more caffeine than normal?
They’re more filled with wonder and magic and excitement and love than I ever dreamed they could be.
There are the slow, unhurried days of winter break (that can be long, yes, but also so sweet).
There are kitchen messes as we bake cookies and fudge and scatter more sprinkles across the floor than onto the treats.
There are the precious handprint ornaments and construction paper cards that come home from school.
There are favorite Christmas movies by the fire while my babies still fit in my lap.
There are giggles and all-day jammies and board games and puzzles and another cup of hot cocoa.
There are the traditions we all look forward to each year—traditions I wonder if they’ll carry on with their own kids someday.
And most of all, there’s the simple fact that we’re all together under one roof . . . and as much as it hurts my heart to think about, I know it won’t always be this way.
The time will come sooner than I can even comprehend when life may get in the way of us seeing each other on Christmas at all.
Someday, our kids may live across the country making holiday travel difficult. There’s a good chance they’ll eventually alternate holidays with their significant other’s family. Or their visits will be on a quick 48-hour turnaround—long enough for dinner and presents and cherished conversation until late into the night—before they go back to their lives and responsibilities and leave my heart longing for just a little more time.
When that day comes, these are the years I’ll look back on with a heart full of nostalgia.
I’ll wish I could go back and relive that one Christmas Eve when the kids were convinced they saw Santa’s sleigh in the sky as we drove home from Nana’s—or the Christmas morning everyone woke up at 4am and we opened presents before sunrise because Santa had come and the excitement was too much for anyone to fall back to sleep.
So I’m holding tight to the Christmases of now.
Even when everyone ends up sick over break.
Even when we all get a little stir crazy from being cooped up with bad weather.
Even when there are sibling squabbles over who knows what.
Even when the intention of having everything “just so” for Christmas morning feels a little daunting.
Even then.
What an honor it is to just be together in a way that will never quite be the same once we outgrow these sacred younger years. This season is precious and fleeting, and made that’s part of the magic anyway.
Surely, these are the best Christmases of my life.
by Lindsay Davies 
by Brittany Moore 
by Anna Grace Marsala 
by Kimberly Keys 
by Valerie Goldstein 
by Tara Hanratty 
by Jessica Carik 
