I don’t know why I am so shocked to find out that so many people I go to group with hate the holidays and despise Christmas and are dreading the day tomorrow. I have always liked Christmas, I have always looked forward to this holiday and spending it with family and just – everything about it is great to me.
Now that I’m older and have Elise there is a whole new dimension to it though, and I can appreciate the stress now. The stress of providing things for the people you love who may come to expect things from you, the monetary stressors, the guilt for not being able to give with my hands as much as I feel I’d like to give with my heart. That’s hard. I don’t like playing Santa. I remember even when I was still a kid, but after I knew Santa wasn’t real, I refused to watch my parents put presents out for Kayla. I would go upstairs and pretend to sleep and not come down til morning, because I guess even though I knew it wasn’t true I wanted to still believe that it was, and I didn’t want to see mom and dad putting presents under the tree to spoil that magic. Piling things under the tree for Elise doesn’t feel magical to me, though, it just feels sad. That part of my life is over, and who knows how long that will last for her?
Seven years. I’ve kept that kid alive for seven years, it’s amazing to think about. I don’t have the greatest track record for finishing the things that I start, but Elise? Whew. Seven years. I can barely wrap my head around that. Time for bed now. The sleigh’s a-coming.