The Big Fat Christmas Post

December 28, 2015 By Kelle

For the record, Bing Crosby is still crooning, there’s a half-eaten pie still sitting out uncovered from Christmas evening, and we’re calling the scraps of wrapping paper that haven’t been picked up “New Year’s confetti.” A recognizable lull has set in, and we’re all lightly sedated from the holidays–perhaps what I love most about the end of the year.

“It’s not over,” I explained to Lainey after the infamous day-after-Christmas letdown when she announced “it doesn’t feel cozy.” Of course I had to also explain to her that maybe it doesn’t feel cozy because the majority of the Play-Doh they received in their stockings is pressed into the only part of the living room rug that isn’t covered in wrapping paper and torn up boxes, the dining room table looks like a tenderloin and potato massacre occurred earlier this week, the pine cones that have so beautifully garnished our holiday appetizer setups are now scattered in between the boxes, and the tape that’s held up the twinkle lights so well finally gave way leaving a tangled mess of twinkle light death on the floor. Maybe–just maybe–the lack of cozy has to do with the fact that we’re boycotting all clean-up until 2016. That said, I cleaned a mirror this morning and ran some hot water in the sink, so we’re coming around.

“It’s not over,” I told her, “because all those things we love about Christmas? Making our house cozy, being together, watching movies, listening to music, baking cookies? We’re in charge of them. And even though it’s nice to have something super special that only happens once a year, we can find ways to make other days special too.”

Except don’t even think about making the elf an everyday thing because I’m over hiding him. Over it. Goodbye, Cocoa, see you next year.

All that said, the past few days have been very special.

Christmas Eve, setting up the reindeer runway and putting out food for them…

Singing carols over candlelight and watching Rudolph…

Nella and Dash kept doing candlelight “Cheers!” which perhaps isn’t the safest thing to do with fire.

I take a picture of my kids sleeping together on Christmas Eve every year. Three in a bed doesn’t last very long–I end up putting Dash in his own bed before we all settle down for the night, but not before snapping my keepsake picture and staring at them for a little while, whispering all sorts of thank-yous into the universe.