Christmas Morning

Faux fur scarf over her shoulders, bowl shaped spatula from her
brother in hand, and the glittering tiara stayed on her head all day.

He never bothers with a shirt at home. The worn comforter from his
toddler years is a familiar swaddling. He's tapping on his phone as usual.

You won't see pictures of me or my husband from Christmas morning, because our kids look a whole lot cuter in their jammies than we do. It was definitely a jammie day. Well into the afternoon, we lounged and read and watched movies and played with new things. Our baker girl, wearing a sparkly tiara, made us gingerbread pancakes with strawberries and whipped cream for breakfast and it was delicious. Yesterday, I was so very stressed, wishing I were the kind of mother who could create a Martha Stewart Christmas instead of a Charlie Brown one, but today, well, Christmas arrived and there was no sense in worrying anymore. It just was. And it was peaceful and good.

Somewhere in the afternoon, we got dressed and went to visit with Aunt Winnie, whose face lit up when we walked in, especially when she saw my son."Oh, look, there is the boy!" she said softly and almost wonderingly. She doesn't get to see him much during the school year. Then the men went to the store to buy Christmas dinner fixings and I visited longer with Aunt Winnie and then my daughter and I cleaned up our house of all the wrappings and bows and plates and mugs left wherever, and computer cords snaking everywhere, and now my husband and son are cooking and my daughter is watching Pysch on Netflix and I am here, wishing you all the Christmas day you need, if not the Christmas day you dreamed of having.

I got the day I needed. And it is happening still.