When I was a kid, Christmas was so, so special to me. That feeling of togetherness, and family was something I cherished, and Christmas was a time when we, as siblings were able come together and appreciate what we had together. We could put our squabbles aside and just enjoy being together. Now, sometimes our bonding wasn't exactly pure in spirit, but it was bonding nonetheless. Laughing at the Meme gifts, and watching Jason sneak the "adult" egg nog to name a few. Now that I'm a mom and watching my own children celebrate this special time of year I'm learning to appreciate the little things that my parents did for us when we were kids. And I'm learning that those little things are not necessarily "little things".
For example, putting up Christmas Lights - Dad, holy crap, now I know why you cussed like a sailor and heaved such large ridiculous sighs when I begged you to put up lights. WHAT A ROYAL PAIN IN MY BUTT. So far I have spent approximately 7 hours on this task and I'm not even done. I have cut myself on broken glass, shocked myself twice, had at least one near death experience while atop the ladder...while pondering how if I do fall, how on earth I will ever be found considering Mark is out of town and the kids are not home. I have been tangled up, chewed up and spit out by these demon lights and continue to ask myself WHY, oh WHY am I doing this!!!???
And then I remember.
Hearing Alex tell me how this is so "special to him" and reflecting back to how special it was to me is all it takes. And I remember with a smile.
Annnnnd I keep going...attempting to find that one damn light bulb that's messing up the entire chain of my 5 to 6 strans of lights...which are now beginning to smell like smoke...or is that a neigbors fire place burning because it is so damn cold out here?
So I've had my "lightbulb moment" (haha) and can now thank you, Dad, for all those years of putting up lights. Now if I can just figure out how to get them as straight as you always did!