It’s the day before Christmas.

It’s the day before Christmas.

I used to have these grand plans to be terribly organized. And then, I realized that I never was, never have been, and never will be that person.

And so, I’m learning.

I’m learning about presents.
Giving less and a few things no one even asked for, one mentioned as an example of what said person absolutely does NOT want. Oh, well, life rarely delivers plans on a gold platter.

I’m learning about fun.
It doesn’t have to be complicated, though so often we do our damndest to do just that. Go on a walk, visit a neighbor, hunt mistletoe, play a game of HORSE, or stay in your pjs and watch Emmet Otter’s Jug-Band Christmas.

I’m learning about expectations.
What I think I should be offering is my most dangerous rabbit hole and if I follow that trail, I wind up annoyed at four children, yelling at my husband, all the whilst wondering why I’m not happy. And so, I must tell those life-sucking expectations goodbye.

I’m learning about plans.
Why so many? Why not just be? To be means time for surprises and treats, last minute plans, lunch downtown, a trip to Walgreens.

I’m learning about traditions.
We are slaves to tradition, yet none of us are obligated to punch yearly repeat buttons. Don’t miss out on something awesome because you’re strictly adhering to what you know. Tradition, for our family, is being together and the way it happens or the where, even the what? All secondary.

I’m learning about real.
The real is that I don’t want to miss out on today and how that happens is the clincher. My real is having a babysitter to wrangle a little fellow with autism, helping a child wrap presents with duct tape, and taking my oldest to the grocery for two cans of biscuits so he can try his hand at making monkey bread for Christmas morning.

I’m learning that presents aren’t as important as having fun, abandoning expectations and plans foster new traditions, and joy is hidden in your real, whatever that may be.

Merry Christmas Eve.

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