We had big plans for this day. Finish up on the last minute shopping, wrap presents, hit the gym, make a glorious dinner- and then, of course, we had none. Only one thing mattered.
So we sat on the couch, and we watched Christmas Max and Ruby. Again. And when we unpacked the goodie bag from today’s preschool party, pretending it was “Christmas Even”, the Angel picture came out, I had to “go to the bathroom”, and lock myself in, and cry.
And then I made hot cider for us, and hid and cried in the kitchen in 33 second microwaved timed intervals.
A 4 and a 1 year old. We hid them from this. We will probably never tell them. Except we will. When we say to them, for the next 18, or thirty, or even 80 years “You can talk to me. You can ALWAYs talk to me.” But I am your mother, and you are my Daughters, and I know, one day, you won’t want to talk to me.
Please talk to someone. Please, please, listen to someone, if and when they cry for help. You may lose a friend. You may save a life.
I thought I needed to make cookies for a cookie exchange party this weekend. I didn’t. I needed to make cookies with these loves of mine. The time, and the attention, the moments. The kitchen is dirty, the floor is sticky and I’ve even forgotten which spills made which spots.
My cookies alone are far from a Pinterest display.
My children stir. And the lick the beaters. Sometimes they put the beaters back in the bowl. I look away.
To Target we go, to buy the ingredients. We only went up and down the fun aisles. When the one who can climb in and out of the buggy found pink swirly peppermint marshmallows, I demanded she throw them in. We bought 2 pounds of butter. 4 bags of white chocolate chips.
We went down the toy aisles and tried everything out. The toy guitar that barks like a dog. The Barbie that sings, “Barbie (????) just wants to have fu-unn”. Maybe people looked and thought it was an act. Those people don’t matter. My people do.
I screamed at the whiny one this week and now I don’t remember why.
When they asked for books, not toys, books, today, I still told them, “No.” Even today.
Then we baked. Unwrapped 50 caramels for Carmel Salted Butter Bars. Crushed an entire box of Candy Canes for White Peppermint Bark. The little one had a bowl of Marshmallows, followed by a a bowl of sprinkles.
We listened to Christmas music and Daddy danced with me in the kitchen.
Bedtime came. And went. They just started sleeping in my t-shirts, and I thought it mattered, that I didn’t have any to wear in the daytime anymore. What I wouldn’t give. A whole drawer of t-shirts. To protect the Angels, that walk on my Earth.
And because we had to do something, for our hearts and our minds, and we couldn’t do anything else, Tonight, we made cookies.