Twas the Night Before Christmas

And it's here!  We have lots to do today.  There are the cookies for Santa that we must bake (or break off, tomato, to-MAH-to), the carrots to leave out for the reindeer, the letter we must write for Santa thanking him for stopping by with his gifts, and putting out the gifts we have brought for others (Grandma and Grandpa).  Soon, Grandma will start baking her ham and maybe even some homemade rolls, and if the girls are good, they will be able to help too. 


I hope to go to an early church service this evening so that Lily can experience the joy and beauty of the Christmas service with the Nativity and candlelight singing.  She is finally old enough to understand it and her sensitive soul will really be moved by the unity, the community. While I am not religious and have been out of a church for years now, I do know that "Jesus is the reason for the season" and want Lily to identify with that, rather than the cashing in via Santa program.  My dear girl whispered to me last night, "Mommy, I don't want a train anymore from Santa.  I just want whatever gifts he wants to bring me."  Love her.


Last night I stayed up wrapping some of the gifts for the girls while my mother wrapped hers and finished her very-last-minute Christmas cards.  Just imagining the girls' faces as some of the gifts are discovered, I got the giggles.  After years of take-it-or-leave-it Christmases, the idea of reliving the magic through the eyes of the wees has me all tickled inside.  I think I might have overdone it with the gifts.  I just couldn't help it.  I want them to feel special, that Santa considered them.  My inner baby girl just wants to be thought of, considered and I would love to head these two off at the pass on that long road called psychotherapy.  I am considering them and want them to know it. 


Twas the night before Christmas and my babies don't know
that Mommy is planning a hell of a show.


I cannot wait to see their little faces.  Merry Christmas, Little people.


(c)  Copyright 2010.  City Mom in the Jungle.

Here nor there

Three days, two nights.  We have been at my parents' house since Monday morning.  As we were meant to wake up at 4:00 am on Monday morning to prep for our trip, Didier and I put the girls to bed at 6:15 pm and enjoyed a quiet evening together saying goodbye.  I hate these times and drank more than my share of a great wine, flirting with and kissing my husband, secretly devastated that the "we" was Lily, Virginie, and me again.  At least for two weeks.  My goodbyes are so teenagery, ridiculously so.  I have always been hopelessly romantic and desperate, but desperate in the "hearts aflutter, I can't breathe without you" kind of way, not the "I am a freak and will do anything for attention" kind of way.  Maybe they are the same, I don't know.  I just know that while trying to make the best of it, the fact that I am away from my husband and have taken my children from their father, no matter how noble the reason, gives me pause.


I am torn.  I had hoped that we would make a go of it and do it together, even if it meant that the kids would spend the holiday in Barbados seeing their father sporadically.  But then I thought, Oh God, spending the holiday in Barbados would depress me to no end and on top of it we would be without Didier?  Two children, both talkative and artistic and creative, are just overwhelming and exhausting at any time.  Add in the spectacle and wonder of Christmas time and I would be crushed could I not provide them with that magic, that joy, that heartwarming spirit. 

Of course I know that there are people for whom this is a common occurrence.  I have such respect for their resolve and their courage--soldiers, single mothers, people who must make the choice to serve the greater community.  How do they endure the looks on the faces of their children as they try to explain where they are going and why?  I just cannot imagine how that tears at the heart.  How do they pretend that being without their loved ones holiday after holiday doesn't phase them, especially as they watch others celebrate and create memories.

So I am ensconced in the residence of my parents' gated community awaiting the blessings of Jesus, the arrival of Santa, and a sprinkling of fairydust that convinces Lily, Virginie, and me that it's possible to enjoy Christmastime without Didier.  Santa has been visited in both Barbados and Florida, so the girls feel secure that he knows the directions to both places.  We will open gifts from Santa, who will be kind enough to leave some gifts with Grandma and Grandpa as well as in Barbados, and some others from my parents here in Florida. The rest will be opened in Barbados when we return.  They will get to have that time with their father, but in January instead of on Christmas morning and their memories will be of the smiles and the tickles and all the cool gifts shared in two places.  For now, they are too young to even remember if we were together on December 25th or January 3rd.  And that is a blessing.


(c)  Copyright 2010.  City Mom in the Jungle.