On Finding Christmas Magic.

On Christmas Night, my sister-in-law and I were discussing the various Mom Types of the Christmas Season.  There are Grinch Moms, Stressed-Out Moms, Desperately-Trying-to-Fake-Christmas-Cheer Moms, and Magic Moms.

(Who are of no relation to Magic Mike.)

After much self-analysis, I decided that I have Multiple Christmas Personality Disorder (MCPD), because I cycle violently through all of the different types of Mom, most likely giving my husband emotional whiplash.

Fortunately, though, I somehow found my Christmas Cheer on Sunday afternoon (after panicking about all I had to do in the next 72 hours,) and managed to hold onto it nearly flawlessly until Wednesday’s Great Broccoli Showdown with Noah.

(In my defense, on Monday he had pitched a fit because he wanted me to buy him broccoli.)

(But apparently, after feasting on stocking candy all morning, broccoli doesn’t taste quite the same.)

But to focus on the good, here’s what our Christmas looked like, in images.

Christmas Eve:

Chris, showing off his Greek Skills to the Greekest member of our family (my Great Aunt Marie) by making Saganaki:


(Note the fire extinguisher on the table.)

No one can be stressed out when there’s flaming cheese in the house:


(He’s working diligently to perfect his recipe, so watch for a post explaining how to light your own cheese on fire very soon.)

My Dad, who is an expert wood craftsman among many other skills, likes to make the Grandkids something very special every year.

This year, Noah got a replica of “Pop’s Old Car,” including a Pop and a Noah to ride inside:


(Noah had lost his clothes after a big dinner of lasagna.  It happens to the best of us.)

Ali, receiving a craft table, designed by my Dad with some pretty fabulous details:



Noah spent the evening examining every angle of his new car,




(Yes, he was naked all Christmas Eve – he prefers  nudity when given the option,)

And Ali enlisted everyone in the house to help her make fabulous art projects.


Right before bed, I fought the kid into his Christmas pajamas.  He was thrilled beyond words.


…And then attempted the Christmas PJ Photo Op.  Which traditionally fails every year.


Christmas morning involved the usual: running down the stairs, ripping paper into shreds, and shoving as much chocolate into their mouths as possible.





In short, beautiful chaos.


We had Chris’ family over for brunch, during which I failed completely in my photographical duties.  It could have had something to do with frantic cooking of Pancakes and Sausage Rolls, but I shall offer up no excuses.

I know – this makes me the worst daughter-in-law ever.

Then, a blessed Christmas nap.


Tornadoes were gracing our area, but it ended up being safe enough to still go to my parent’s house for dinner, where my Mom (a forever Magic Mom) took great joy in making the adults dress up – supposedly for a game for the children.


Many of us were thrilled with this opportunity.


Or at least willing to pretend.


We never did quite understand the rules of the games, nor did the children.


But Mom felt the magic, and that’s what was important.

Despite the presents and the magic and the games, the hit of the night was my Grandmother’s Dog’s crate.  The children astonished us all with their ability to climb in completely and shut the door,


and only the smallest of them all managed to get stuck and need the door removed from it’s hinges and a five-person removal operation.


But that’s okay.  Because she felt the Christmas Magic, too.

But the most magical thing about my Christmas was this:


How was your Mom State this Christmas?