so, we can’t exactly head to a tree farm to trudge through the snow to cut down our christmas tree. we can’t make snow angels or run outside in our pajamas to catch the first crystally flakes on our tongue. we can’t pretend to put the kids to bed only to pull them out ten minutes later with hot cocoa and popcorn and a warm car ready to heat little bodies for a snowy ride to look at christmas lights. however, our town is made up of a large cluster of former midwesterners… midwesterners who, this time of year, all miss and crave the magic of the cozy cold.
…so we create it. and a darn good job we do.
the lighting of the third street christmas tree.
it may not have been rockefeller center, but it was my town. my people. my friends. …counting down.
…3, 2, 1. merry christmas! and the streets were filled with snow. yes, snow.
…and it was magic.
street entertainers and silent night. cotton candy and balloons. tacky flashing christmas bulb earrings and elf shoes and reindeer antler headbands. twinkly lights everywhere. donkeys and mangers. …and this overwhelming reassurance that we are making magical memories for our kids. they will remember how excited we were to show them fake snow and they will remember how we danced in it.
oh, i could eat holidays with a spoon. i could scoop up their magic and bathe in it. i am writing lainey’s storybook childhood, and i want the christmas chapter to be a page-turner.
…in other magical happenings, her growth and entrance into the world of toddlerhood wonder is a holiday in itself and among the cleaning and cooking and decorating and errands and photo editing and e-mails, i take as many chances as i can get to just watch her be.
we’re getting ready for our fourth annual thanksgiving pajama breakfast. and having daddy home. and family. and just…being.
…enjoying the happy things. ~k