Before that damn Elf on the Shelf. Honest to Goodness he makes my skin crawl.
Before Pinterest. When we weren't all judging each other's holiday decorations and homemade gifts.
Before iPads. When children did things that actually involved physical activity and real people.
When parents had to create their own traditions, and did it with what they had. Instead of comparing yourself and your family to what everyone else was doing on Facebook, you just enjoyed being with your family and making those traditions. Because that's what makes them traditions. Not some book about an Elf. That's not a tradition. That's a flipping marketing ploy.
When Christmas parties were allowed at school. The kind with Santa, Frosty, Rudolph, cookies, and crafts with obscene amounts of glitter. When schools were allowed to take a break from learning and feed kids unnecessary sugary treats and play games. And they remembered that they are children, not learning machines.
The best part about Christmas is teaching children to believe in something that they cannot see. Whether or not this applies directly to your religious beliefs is irrelevant. This is the time of year when you show children that anything is possible when you believe it. This lesson is so much bigger than Santa and presents. This applies to all aspects of life. When you behave, Santa rewards you. When you work hard, life rewards you. Teaching this to children is our JOB as adults.
We are the ones who make the magic for the children in our lives.
When I think about Christmas as a child, all I have are happy memories. It WAS a magical time. It never rained, presents were always perfect, cookies were made, parties were had. Every year we raced down the stairs to see what had transpired while we were sleeping. It was the very best time of year. Whether or not these details are exact doesn't matter.
One of my favorite memories was creating "Santa's Runway" in our old neighborhood. For a while before Christmas, we would all save our plastic milk jugs. Then we'd cut holes in the side and fill them with sand and a tea candle. On Christmas Eve, the entire neighborhood would line the streets with these "lanterns" and create Santa's runway. My brother and I would look out the window for hours waiting for Santa and his reindeer to land. We'd put out a tray of cookies (homemade and decorated by us) and a carrot for Rudolph (Reindeer get hungry too!) and we'd read Christmas stories. Magic. Perfection.
This Christmas, as my first as a mom, I am seeing it all through new eyes. I feel the stress of the holidays, the hectic schedules, the pressure we put on ourselves, but I'm trying to let it go.
I want to recreate the magic that I felt as a child. I want M to grow up believing in the unseen and relishing in the magic that this time of year still fills me with to this day. I see it as my duty to do this for her.
I miss the Christmas of my memories. The enchanting and wonderful holiday season.
I can't wait to recreate it for M this year and every year after.
So, while Christmas isn't the same, it has a whole new meaning.
And I take this responsibility of passing on the magic very seriously.
Thank you, to my parents, for creating Christmas magic that I still carry with me every year.
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