The day after we returned home from our Thanksgiving-break trip, I hauled the Leddy family artificial Christmas tree out of the basement. A trail of plastic pine needles followed behind me, from the top of the basement stairs to the front of the family-room bay window.
Clark Griswold would not approve.
“Do you think we’ll ever get a real Christmas tree, Mom?” Grace wondered.
“Yes,” I replied. Not this year…but one year, someday, absolutely.
Stanton searched for a yuletide playlist.
“Yeah, I’m gonna take my horse to the old town road…”
I raised my eyebrows at my husband. He kept searching.
“No, Dad,” protested Anna. “I love that song.”
We both looked at our 4-year-old daughter. How did she know Lil Nas X?
“We listen to it at preschool,” Anna explained. “The clean version.”
Grace laughed; I laugh-cried. Stanton turned up “Jingle Bells.”
Stanton and the girls began hanging ornaments on our tree while I dug more Christmas decorations out of the basement.
Over the years, I scooped up our decorations during various post-Christmas sales. Thus, every December our home radiates a festively hodgepodge theme of Pottery Barn seasonal clearance meets Hallmark Store half-off, with a little Pier 1 last call thrown in for bling-y measure.
Stanton is rarely impressed with my bargain finds. “How awesome that this was 75 percent off,” I said, showing him my newest piece of decor, a wooden sign with “Noel” in capital letters, adorned with faux red berries and glitter galore (a Pier 1 find, obviously).
In a previous life, Stanton worked as a buyer. “The retail price isn’t the real price anyway, Mel,” he said, for probably the thousandth time in our life.
“Honey, please…I practically made money here.”
Grace pointed to the sign. “Mom, there’s a box here where you put batteries. Does this sign light up?”
“Of course it lights up, G.” I found it at Pier 1, didn’t I?
“Do you have any batteries?”
I’d get some on my next trip to Hannaford, I promised.
…every December our home radiates a festively hodgepodge theme of Pottery Barn seasonal clearance meets Hallmark Store half-off, with a little Pier 1 last call thrown in for bling-y measure.
Not long after, I drove to Hannaford. The lights at the intersection outside the grocery store weren’t working. People in their cars were treating this fairly busy intersection like a four-way stop, mostly cautiously, but—nervous Nellie driver that I am—I worried an accident could happen.
Once inside the store, I shared my concern with one of the managers I know, a friendly, hard-working young man. He told me the lights hadn’t been working since the morning before.
“I’m a little surprised no one has called the police or anything,” I said.
The manager said he would do that right now. “I think I have the number.”
I was confused. The number was 911, right?
But no, police departments have non-emergency numbers for situations like this. Within minutes—truly, minutes—two workers arrived and fixed the intersection lights. I was thankful for that.
“You solved the problem, Mom,” my daughters said, when I told this story to them later.
Not really, but a little. Solving problems, though—that’s a lot of what moms do, all day long.
Grace and Anna love getting out and about. I do too; I’m all for it, truly. By about 6 p.m. on a cold winter’s Saturday, though, I’m usually 100 percent content to stay in, steep a cup of tea to perfection and engage in cozy indoor activities, such as reading or Family Movie Night.
This past Saturday evening, the girls were having none of that.
“It’s public skate at the Y, Mom! Let’s go ice skating! Come on, Mom!”
If I didn’t have kids, I’d probably hibernate until spring. I’d stay in, drink hot beverages, binge-watch the rest of “Shameless” on Netflix. Maybe even write something a little longer, a bit more prestigious, than yet another blog post. 😉
That, however, is an alternate reality, friends, and overall, I’m wholeheartedly grateful for the reality I have.
Ice skating, sledding, snowman-building in winter—hiking year-round—swimming all summer—raking jump-worthy piles of leaves in fall—all right, come on, let’s do it.
“Come on, Mom!”
Yes, overall, I’m living the dream.
During the next few days, our children will be participating in a total of four end-of-year events. One holiday piano concert, two Christmas pageants and one performing arts holiday performance. There’s also a Christmas party following one of the pageants, for which I signed up to bring cookies. “Because no one ate the salad you brought that other time,” Anna reminded me. (That’s true: That other time, no one did.)
I mixed up some of these save-the-dates on the hard-copy calendar in the kitchen (I know, pretty old-fashioned to use a calendar you can actually write on), so our December 2019 page resembles a treasure map of circles, arrows and crossed-out words.
I needed to reschedule Grace’s overdue annual checkup, so circled “G – dr. appt!” and drew an arrow to a following weekday afternoon (making her overdue checkup even later). Anna came along, too, and I asked the receptionist if both my daughters could get (again, overdue) flu shots that day. She said yes, and I reached over to sign some forms.
With my other arm, I was holding Anna. At this point, her ears perked up. She clasped her hands around my neck, physically turned my head back up to face the receptionist, and hissed, “Tell her, ‘Anna does not want a flu shot.'”
The receptionist laughed; Anna frowned.
It’s always a good time, friends.
…our December 2019 page resembles a treasure map of circles, arrows and crossed-out words.
Who’s done with all their holiday shopping? Almost done? Yet to start?
You can put me in the “almost done” category. I ordered some things online during Black Friday and Cyber Monday sales, but I still have some gifts to pick out from I Love Books and Perfect Blend, two of my favorite local shops.
Stanton, the girls and I will be spending Christmas at my mom and dad’s house near Scranton, Pa., and when we show up on their doorstep, I always like to have some coffee from Perfect Blend on hand. Many of our moms and dads don’t really need any more stuff, but appreciate consumable gifts—such as my coffee shop’s Frosty’s Favorite and Sugar Cookie seasonal blends. This is my perspective anyway, and I hope I’m right.
And what do I want for Christmas, you ask? Just what every other parent of small children asks of Kris Kringle, of course: a live-in housekeeper and/or personal chef, someone whose skill set includes handing out snacks every 15 minutes from 4 p.m. until dinner is ready.
“Mom, will you open the healthy drawer?” Anna recently asked as I was making dinner.
Grace sighed. “We don’t have a healthy drawer, boo.”
“Yes, we do.” Anna pointed to the cupboard above the coffeemaker.
Grace and I both shook our heads. “Honey, you know that’s the snack drawer,” I told Anna. “Just because you call it the healthy drawer doesn’t make it something different.” It didn’t change the fact that that part of the kitchen cabinetry was stuffed full of popcorn, chocolate and chips of all kinds (potato, tortilla and masquerading-as-not-junk-food veggie).
“Please can I just have the box of cheddar bunnies?”
All I want for Christmas is someone to manage early-evening snack requests.
Just what every other parent of small children asks of Kris Kringle, of course: a live-in housekeeper and/or personal chef…
As cliché and corny as it sounds, what I most appreciate at Christmastime is time with my loved ones. Time is such a gift, I think.
I’m looking forward to driving from New York to Pennsylvania with Stanton and the girls, listening to Christmas music on the radio. Once we get there, I’m excited to catch up with my brothers and sister. Jenna and I want to watch some favorite movies together (“Love Actually” and “Bridget Jones’s Diary,” here’s looking at you—and yes, Hugh Grant, the Minetola sisters adore you).
Riding shotgun, chitchatting, watching movies—these are such little things, yet they’ll be my biggest Christmas wishes-come-true.
What about you?
Whatever yours are and wherever you’ll be, I hope this time of year finds your heart happy too.
Merry everything, friends. ❤
Photo credit: Pixabay
Like what you just read? Then check out Melissa Leddy’s newest short story, “Backtrack.” An engaging read that’s can’t-put-it-down good.