I've missed you Santa

I've always loved Christmas.  When I was growing up Christmas was pajamas on Christmas Eve, heart pounding, ears peeled for any sound of Santa and not being able to sleep Christmas Eve night, and waking up on Christmas morning to the smell of the ham cooking in the oven, waiting on the stairs to get our pictures taken, running down them as fast as we could bursting into the living room that was alive with all that Christmas holds: presents, lights, marshmallow santas, stuffed stockings and my Mom, my Dad and my sisters.  Then we would tear into the presents, pass out the Christmas cards, and either participate or witness an argument, it wasn't Christmas morning in our house without some sort of argument.
  
I don't really remember making crafts when I was a kid.  I know I made a macaroni one once and I remember when all the macaronis fell off of it and I cried.  I do remember going to the Christmas fair in my schools auditorium and picking out presents for my mom and Dad.  I remember buying my Mom potholders and my Dad this garden glove notepad holder.  I remember thinking how much I thought my Mom and Dad would just love those gifts.  I wonder if they did.

Christmas changes as you get older.  The idea of it, the sense of it, the feeling of it.  Santa takes on a whole different meaning too.
I believed in Santa.  I heard sleigh bells in the sky once and saw a ball of light that I swear was Santa and his sleigh. I felt the magic. I never doubted.
Then life took over.  I grew up.  I changed.  Christmas became less about the magic and more about gifts and wanting to get and give the perfect things.  I still loved spending Christmas with my family but I was different inside.  Skeptical?  Bitter?

A little bit of my old self came back when Darren and I got together.  The longer we were together, the more I decorated a little bit more at Christmas.  We put in a little more effort and made some of that childhood magic spark again.

We've been together 10 years now, married almost 7.  We have 2 sons.

This year is the most excited I've been about Christmas in a long time.  Most of it is from having children to live through.  To watch them taking it all in and bearing witness to Christmas magic through a child's eye...I don't even have words to describe it.

I haven't had my eyes swell up with tears as often as I have in the last few weeks.  My heart so full and encompassed with the love and compassion I feel for my sons and my husband.

My house decorated in full on holiday splendor.  Cookie dough chilling in the refrigerator.  Reminders that Santa is coming to town from Jacek.  Reminders that the lights on the Christmas tree are breathtaking with every oooh and ahhh from Aidan.

Today the love in my heart spilled over.  It splashed onto the floor.  My tears running with it.

Today I got my first homemade gift from my own child.  

Wrapped and adorned with a smiling photo of himself.

As he sang "We wish you a Merry Christmas" with his classmates and ran to my open arms and presented me with my present the joy in my life became apparant.

I have my first gift given to me by my own child awaiting me.  I can't even begin to explain the excitement I feel about opening this gift on Christmas.

I simply can not wait.  The funny thing is, I already know, that no matter what it is, I love it!  I love it!

I again believe in Santa.  I believe because I see it and feel it in my children's faces and twinkling eyes.

The magic of Christmas is again alive in me.  My children, my husband remind me every day.

I believe in Santa, the magic of Christmas and the spirit that can overtake you, filling you with joy and happiness from things you'd least expect.

When I was a child I was content with simply feeling the magic and not necessarily seeing it.  Today I got to feel and see the magic. 

Santa Claus is in town.  Has he knocked on your heart door?