It's Christmas Eve.
The excitement has no bounds.
I sit here on my couch, tree lights on, watching Pokemon, drinking coffee out of the biggest mug given to me by one of my students.
One Crazy is awake (the boy).
One Crazy is still in Snoozeland and I don't intend on disturbing her.
Husband is at work.
The stockings are hung.
The presents are half wrapped.
The schedule and food for today and tomorrow are pretty much set.
I am content.
Between work, friends, family, marriage, laundry, and marriage, I am content.
I was thinking about perfection yesterday...how so many people want to make sure to cram every party of Christmas with memorable moments created year after year...even if there isn't enough time.
This was a very short December. In that time we were able to cram in Christmas cards, a tree, getting all the Christmas houses out and on display, decorating the outside of the house, shopping (mostly online), visits, dinners, our annual Christmas light trip, a visit to Downtown Main Street for Santa and local shopping, our annual picture with the Mall Santa, Friends Christmas, returning to church on a regular basis, and playing in the snow.
We didn't get to see the Nutcracker. We didn't get to see the lights on 34th Street (a big deal in Baltimore, hon). We didn't get to sing Christmas carols anywhere. We didn't have a Christmas party like I wanted. We didn't make oodles of cookies. We didn't get to a Christmas train display. We didn't cut down our own tree this year.
And I'm okay with missing all of those things.
Perfection is in the eye of the beholder. If I feel like I've done well enough and my kids are happy, that is perfection to me. Personally, I find the quest for perfection like trying to gain a foothold on a mountain during an avalanche. While you may attain it for a few seconds, it will all change in the blink of an eye. Whether it's a crying child or a husband's heavy sigh because a line is too long...perfection seems fleeting.
However, what if we looked at it in a different way? What if we took those split seconds of perfection and put them all together? Could we, at that moment, say we attained perfection? Could we view Christmas as perfect when we take those little snippets, piece them together, and create our memories? Yes...it can be done.
The Crazies won't remember the things we didn't get to see this year. They'll remember what we were able to do.
They'll remember the light display and the toy soldiers setting off rockets. They'll remember all of us pretending that those rockets blew up our car and laughing hysterically at that moment. They'll remember the silly noises that Daddy made after we left the aquarium on Christmas Eve Eve and giggling uncontrollably while begging for more. They'll remember watching Daddy on the roof stringing up the lights and "helping" to hold the ladder. They'll remember getting the brand new toy helicopter stuck in the very tall evergreens just as it started to rain. They'll remember Mommy saying a bad word when she spilled flour all over the counter while making cookies. They'll remember getting our Christmas tree from a parking lot to support the Boy Scouts. They'll remember the cantata at church and all of the instruments and singers. They'll remember all of these little things and they'll piece them together as their own rendition of perfection.
After all, isn't that what we all do? We take the good, throw away the bad, and hold on to what we need to make Christmas perfect.
I think that's okay. I think it's okay to disillusion ourselves like that. I think it's better than holding the bitterness and loss and sadness. It's okay to want only the good and to enjoy what we have rather than pining away for more than we could ever make possible.
I think that as I sit here on Christmas Eve 2013 typing away on my less than reliable blog, it's okay that I haven't written every single thought or been thankful for every single thing in my life, or shared every single experience here on my blog. It's okay because they're all in my heart.
I hope you all have a great Christmas and a Happy New Year...here's to holding on to our version of perfection and releasing the bad...no one needs it anyway.