It's been a strange December. Most years I am totally stressed about finding ways to make sure that Christmas is special. I want so much to make it magical that it only ends up being burdensome instead. I'm still stressed this December, but not about Christmas. In fact, it's probably the most "relaxed" holiday season I've had in decades. (Of course I could decide to stress tomorrow...)
I haven't gone shopping, I haven't baked cookies, and the decorations are minimal. I did buy a book for each of my ten grandchildren, and yes, I am counting Number 10, who has yet to make his official arrival. I bought a few shirts and sweaters for myself because I know 1. I like them, 2. I need them, and 3. I want them, and therefore have wasted no money on their purchase. It may sound selfish but it isn't feeling that way, at least not today.
I have been asked several times what I "want" for Christmas. I was asked again today and my answer was "nothing, I want absolutely nothing," and the truth is, if there is something I want, I couldn't tell you what it is. I might, perhaps, have that information on a shelf in the back of my mind, or maybe in an obsolete brain drawer, but for the moment that little bit of information is lost. No sweat, I'm set.
I do have plans to bake cookies with my sister and youngest daughter on Friday. Hannah doesn't get out much, so I invited her along. And on Saturday morning I will bake one of my frozen apple pies and deliver it to my sweet brother at the group home where he lives. Somewhere in the mix there is a plan to decorate graham cracker houses with the grandkids, but I'm not entirely sure whether that will be on Christmas Day or New Years. If we wait we can get everybody in on the fun.