sweetbriarpoet
Flower Fortune- Sweetbriar: Poetry and fragrance.
Fifty-Ninth Entry
I hope everyone had such a happy Christmas as I did. It was so nice just to put everything aside and concentrate solely on our immediate love. The children, especially, had a wonderful time: I think they enjoy Christmas Eve better than they enjoy Christmas itself. They are each allowed to open one gift on Christmas Eve right before bedtime, usually if they behave themselves and eat their dinners. They loved that they could lay in Harry's and my bed and rip gold wrapping off their gifts. Most of them opened dolls or stuffed animals or action figures and so slept with their presents as well. They were so precious, going to sleep religiously, as if St. Nicholas would pass them by if they were still awake.
The dinner with Rev and Trinity and the family turned out beautifully. The children got a bit restless after about ten minutes, but we let the older ones go play while we sat around a big table full of a great meal. (We ended up not making a turkey, but a beef tenderloin instead. Did you know they go on half price at Christmas time, and its something even Christopher can't refuse.) The children were allowed to drink chocolate milk or egg nog, and I made egg nog punch for Harry, Rev, and I. All we could talk about at dinner was our future: what jobs we were looking for, what kinds of things we wanted to learn or teach. But instead of it being a worrying, helpless sort of conversation, it was somehow hopeful and exciting, and we all seemed as if we were the most ambitious sort of people with the highest of dreams. It was wonderful to think that we might all be getting somewhere.
Christmas Eve night, when Rev and Trinity had gone home and the children were in bed, Harry and I got our neighbor to watch out for them while we attended midnight mass. It is always so dark and musky in our church, so full of stale incense and velvet carpetings that I get nostalgic every time I walk in. It is almost as if I were addicted to the place, so much like our old church, so full of universal memory and thought. There are long yellow lights that hang from the ceiling and even though the floor is warm and red, the walls are of cold, dark brick and I feel old, antediluvian in such a still place. There were only three other families with us-families with older children or with no children at all-and I felt as if I were so close to my family, so much a part of them in that old church. Though I am not the most religious person, I do feel that church can give you such a sense, and that is its worth.
When Harry and I came home we brewed coffee and highly caffeinated tea and put the presents from Santa all around the living room. The children love to hunt for their gifts, to work for them, and so the older ones each get their own assigned corner to try and find their St. Nicholas gifts. Of course, St. Nicholas being completely separate from us, there was a multitude of presents under the tree, and I wondered how in the world we had enough money for so much stuff. I smiled, though. How could I let my children have anything but an extraordinary Christmas when they have been so good to me? I want them to be happy, and since none of them show signs of being spoiled (since, honestly, they never are unless Reggie and Ouisie come around), I was glad for something to make them feel appreciated.
On Christmas morning, Rev and Trinity came over with cookies (they are allowed to keep their presents under our tree as long as they bring "breakfast cookies" on the big day) and we let the children open presents until they fell asleep in their own piles of wrappings and ribbons. All in all, each of the children received one big gift (like Christopher and Christian have been wanting bicycles without training wheels, Oliver got a swing and slide outside--most of these courtesy of Ouisie and Reggie) and then they all receive littler presents like games and toys and blocks and animals. The point is: our house was full to the brim of wrapped things, and some of the presents I had never even seen before. I have never seen the children's eyes so big. Like saucers. It was like they had stumbled into their very own toy shop.
But the most spoiled out of everyone was Ginny. My friends had all gotten me gifts expressly for her-dresses and hair ribbons and trainers and toys. She got blankets galore, a little alien that rides around on the floor, a walker, a stroller with a cooler, bottles and gift cards, and even a huge stuffed dragon that she could sit in from Rev. The poor baby was all over the place, passed out before we had even eaten lunch. I loved that she can finally have things-things that aren't secondhand from Belle and Trinity.
Trinity had a wonderful Christmas, too, I think. She kept thanking me and kissing me and she was so polite and nice to the children, I wondered how such a change could have come about. She ate her dinner the best, she helped me clean up, she even let the children play with some of her gifts. I gave her my personal gift to her, in private so that the other children wouldn't know-a little doll that came with a stroller and bed and said: This is our secret and she turned bright red and her eyes shone and I was so happy that she was my seventh little child. A secret? and she hid it under my bed until it was time for her to go home. (Harry and I also took a share of the money that Ouisie and Reggie gave us and bought other gifts for Trinity. She is so much like a sister to the children, she must have the same amount of gifts, I thought.)
Harry loved his watch, couldn't believe I had bought it, was so red I couldn't tell his face from his hair. He kept fiddling with it on his wrist, or reached out to hand me things so I could admire it. Rev was all over him, exclaiming that the watch made him look stately, that it was so expensive, that it had great features. They were like five year old boys and I loved it. For Rev, I had bought a hookup for his car, something he can play music on (his car is so homely, poor thing, and he doesn't even have a radio!). It was a gift certificate to pick out the player/radio/ipod hookup he wanted. He was so excited he took me aside for ten minutes, explaining that it was the perfect gift: I could hardly shake him off me. I laughed and hugged him and Harry and the children until I was just tired out from being happy.
I was spoiled beyond belief. I received a Barnes and Noble gift card from Chris, a TJ Maxx gift card from Tuck, a vacuum/ carpet cleaner from Oliver (laugh if you want, but I've been wanting one of those for ages), a radio for the magic room from the younger twins, and a picture from Ginny that I had seen in an antique shop one day and had died over. Rev bought me a jewelry box, and when I told him I loved it, Harry said: oh perfect, Rev, and winked at him and I knew I was in trouble. Harry pulled out a gorgeous gold necklace with my birthstone in it, and matching earrings. I had to sit down on the sofa. No, I said, how could you? But Iwas laughing and smiling and blushing and it was the best Christmas ever just to have Harry there, and have him put it around my neck. It matches my bathrobe perfectly, I laughed and twirled around the kitchen, careful not to step on any sleeping child.
We had sausage gravy on toast for breakfast, and afterwards took the kids to the park to try out their outside gifts. Then more napping by the tree and the Muppet Christmas Carol. I could have died from overflowing love. In my giftwrap from Harry I found a card saying, I'm always here even when you don't see me/ One day I'll come home and you will be free/ Trust in me. And I laughed at his poetry and kissed him and was so glad that I am me.
I remember why I love Christmas-it is such a hopeful holiday-it gives one hope that everything we worry about is just silly.
The dinner with Rev and Trinity and the family turned out beautifully. The children got a bit restless after about ten minutes, but we let the older ones go play while we sat around a big table full of a great meal. (We ended up not making a turkey, but a beef tenderloin instead. Did you know they go on half price at Christmas time, and its something even Christopher can't refuse.) The children were allowed to drink chocolate milk or egg nog, and I made egg nog punch for Harry, Rev, and I. All we could talk about at dinner was our future: what jobs we were looking for, what kinds of things we wanted to learn or teach. But instead of it being a worrying, helpless sort of conversation, it was somehow hopeful and exciting, and we all seemed as if we were the most ambitious sort of people with the highest of dreams. It was wonderful to think that we might all be getting somewhere.
Christmas Eve night, when Rev and Trinity had gone home and the children were in bed, Harry and I got our neighbor to watch out for them while we attended midnight mass. It is always so dark and musky in our church, so full of stale incense and velvet carpetings that I get nostalgic every time I walk in. It is almost as if I were addicted to the place, so much like our old church, so full of universal memory and thought. There are long yellow lights that hang from the ceiling and even though the floor is warm and red, the walls are of cold, dark brick and I feel old, antediluvian in such a still place. There were only three other families with us-families with older children or with no children at all-and I felt as if I were so close to my family, so much a part of them in that old church. Though I am not the most religious person, I do feel that church can give you such a sense, and that is its worth.
When Harry and I came home we brewed coffee and highly caffeinated tea and put the presents from Santa all around the living room. The children love to hunt for their gifts, to work for them, and so the older ones each get their own assigned corner to try and find their St. Nicholas gifts. Of course, St. Nicholas being completely separate from us, there was a multitude of presents under the tree, and I wondered how in the world we had enough money for so much stuff. I smiled, though. How could I let my children have anything but an extraordinary Christmas when they have been so good to me? I want them to be happy, and since none of them show signs of being spoiled (since, honestly, they never are unless Reggie and Ouisie come around), I was glad for something to make them feel appreciated.
On Christmas morning, Rev and Trinity came over with cookies (they are allowed to keep their presents under our tree as long as they bring "breakfast cookies" on the big day) and we let the children open presents until they fell asleep in their own piles of wrappings and ribbons. All in all, each of the children received one big gift (like Christopher and Christian have been wanting bicycles without training wheels, Oliver got a swing and slide outside--most of these courtesy of Ouisie and Reggie) and then they all receive littler presents like games and toys and blocks and animals. The point is: our house was full to the brim of wrapped things, and some of the presents I had never even seen before. I have never seen the children's eyes so big. Like saucers. It was like they had stumbled into their very own toy shop.
But the most spoiled out of everyone was Ginny. My friends had all gotten me gifts expressly for her-dresses and hair ribbons and trainers and toys. She got blankets galore, a little alien that rides around on the floor, a walker, a stroller with a cooler, bottles and gift cards, and even a huge stuffed dragon that she could sit in from Rev. The poor baby was all over the place, passed out before we had even eaten lunch. I loved that she can finally have things-things that aren't secondhand from Belle and Trinity.
Trinity had a wonderful Christmas, too, I think. She kept thanking me and kissing me and she was so polite and nice to the children, I wondered how such a change could have come about. She ate her dinner the best, she helped me clean up, she even let the children play with some of her gifts. I gave her my personal gift to her, in private so that the other children wouldn't know-a little doll that came with a stroller and bed and said: This is our secret and she turned bright red and her eyes shone and I was so happy that she was my seventh little child. A secret? and she hid it under my bed until it was time for her to go home. (Harry and I also took a share of the money that Ouisie and Reggie gave us and bought other gifts for Trinity. She is so much like a sister to the children, she must have the same amount of gifts, I thought.)
Harry loved his watch, couldn't believe I had bought it, was so red I couldn't tell his face from his hair. He kept fiddling with it on his wrist, or reached out to hand me things so I could admire it. Rev was all over him, exclaiming that the watch made him look stately, that it was so expensive, that it had great features. They were like five year old boys and I loved it. For Rev, I had bought a hookup for his car, something he can play music on (his car is so homely, poor thing, and he doesn't even have a radio!). It was a gift certificate to pick out the player/radio/ipod hookup he wanted. He was so excited he took me aside for ten minutes, explaining that it was the perfect gift: I could hardly shake him off me. I laughed and hugged him and Harry and the children until I was just tired out from being happy.
I was spoiled beyond belief. I received a Barnes and Noble gift card from Chris, a TJ Maxx gift card from Tuck, a vacuum/ carpet cleaner from Oliver (laugh if you want, but I've been wanting one of those for ages), a radio for the magic room from the younger twins, and a picture from Ginny that I had seen in an antique shop one day and had died over. Rev bought me a jewelry box, and when I told him I loved it, Harry said: oh perfect, Rev, and winked at him and I knew I was in trouble. Harry pulled out a gorgeous gold necklace with my birthstone in it, and matching earrings. I had to sit down on the sofa. No, I said, how could you? But Iwas laughing and smiling and blushing and it was the best Christmas ever just to have Harry there, and have him put it around my neck. It matches my bathrobe perfectly, I laughed and twirled around the kitchen, careful not to step on any sleeping child.
We had sausage gravy on toast for breakfast, and afterwards took the kids to the park to try out their outside gifts. Then more napping by the tree and the Muppet Christmas Carol. I could have died from overflowing love. In my giftwrap from Harry I found a card saying, I'm always here even when you don't see me/ One day I'll come home and you will be free/ Trust in me. And I laughed at his poetry and kissed him and was so glad that I am me.
I remember why I love Christmas-it is such a hopeful holiday-it gives one hope that everything we worry about is just silly.
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