God bless us...every one.

I know it's Christmas, not only because my inbox is cluttered with online fliers touting  "BIG HOLIDAY SAVINGS," for everything on my "child's wish list," but because I'm asked several times a day if I've finished my shopping yet and/or how much of my son's "wish list" is going to be under our tree Christmas morning.  To wit, my gnawing acid indigestion has become yet another sign that the holiday season is upon us.  The answers are; not even remotely, there will be much disappointment and pass the Tums.  Ev turned 4 in July and as such, his awareness of Christmas, as it is defined by a child, is only just beginning to blossom. Last years trifling note to Santa was replaced by an entire catalog of circles that I've only briefly perused.
      Our holiday resources are on the meager end this year and shopping for gifts has been a low priority. Budgetary restrictions have had a lot of influence over my re-examination of the season of giving.  I've read many articles over the past couple of days regarding the subject of giving and how, financial times being what they are, many parents felt they would be unable to give their children a "good Christmas" this year.  I've spent the past month, wracked with guilt over not being able to provide that "good Christmas"; looking at my paltry bag of toys and wondering what my son will think when he wakes up and sees so much empty space under the tree that, just last year, would've been filled with more brightly dressed packages then he could wrap his head around.  Then I watched the news and heard about children who may wake up to nothing, because donations have been lacking at Toys for Tots and other charitable foundations.  I saw an unemployed mother and father of 4 living in a friend's vacant house, with a seriously ill teenager and wondering how they were going to afford her medical bills, let alone provide any sort of Christmas cheer for their children.  I read Facebook posts from friends and family members overseas, who would be spending the holiday in an army barracks and my whole idea of  having a "good Christmas" devolved or evolved depending on your view.  My first thought was to pick one gift from the bag, for each child and take the rest to Toys for Tots, but my mother was quick to point out that expectations for Ev have already been set. He'd written a list, checked it twice and been promised as much generosity as Santa could bestow. So I decided I would take whatever money I was going to use to "finish up" shopping and put it toward one of my favorite charities, Horizon's for Homeless Children. I also realized something very important. Chris and I need to begin setting the standard for what Evan's definition of Christmas should be and I'm not entirely sure that definition needs to include one half of a Toys'R'Us "Holiday Book".  Now, maybe if we were in a different place this year I wouldn't be writing this. I'd be happily wrapping all the circled gifts of Ev's choosing and wondering which one was going to be his absolute favorite. But I'm not and in a way, I'm appreciative of this forced new perspective. It's easy to get caught up in the material aspect of the season and even easier not to, mostly because I don't have a choice, but also because without the noise of commercialism I've been able to remember the most important gifts. Ev and Quinn both have their health, they have a loving family and we'll all be together. I don't want Evan or Quinn to think of Christmas as just one more day to inventory what they have and what they've yet to receive. I want them to understand how much they already have, before they even begin to unwrap a box. And, I want them to experience how much can be received purely from giving.
      All Bob Crachett wanted was the day off from work, a fine, fat goose and his son's health. He got all 3 and even though his wishes weren't gift wrapped, his family seemed to have a very "good Christmas."

Merry Christmas to all and a Happy New Year!