Christmas 2010

Is there anything better than having two little girls at Christmas?  I don't think so.  We squeezed all the joy out of this season and now we're recovering - limping, drained, forgetful - from the days and weeks of merriment.  We spent the afternoon of Christmas Eve at my parents' house, the evening with my extended family in Holland, woke up here on Christmas morning, and headed to Kalamazoo to see Jason's extended family on Christmas Day before hosting his parents here for one more night.

And if there were perhaps a few more moments of mayhem than I would have liked, there were far more moments of delight and laughter:  of matching red dresses and white tights; of cinnamon rolls and candy for breakfast; of fires and stockings and a living room strewn with the remnants of Christmas morning; of sisters presenting one another with their specially-chosen gifts and it being hard to tell who was happier, the giver or the recipient; of grandparents telling stories and cousins making plans for next year; of setting out cookies (and carrots) for Santa and his reindeer; of time on Christmas Day for a solitary run; of playing Sorry! and Old Maid and my mom's homemade Memory for dollar prizes; of Jason and I falling asleep while watching Elf in the wee hours of Christmas Eve, just after we'd stuffed the stockings and brought the Santa gifts up from downstairs; of the tastes of homemade caramels and gingerbread cookies and steak au poive and asparagus straws and good coffee and vanilla porter; of reading 'Twas the Night Before Christmas in Annie's bed just before kissing them good-night.

It was magical; it was exhausting; it was completely, totally, 100% worth it, because they're never going to be three and six again at Christmas.