December Days

My favorite time of these December days is early morning when the house is quiet after the morning rush. Ted scarfs down his breakfast in 3 to 5 minutes and gets picked up first by about 7 o'clock. Shortly after Mike and Lily leave, but not before she changes her outfit 2 to 4 times. I switch from lemon water to coffee. I turn off the news and turn on the carols. I've been relying on Alexa these days, but she's ornery so today I went in search of my favorite CDs. It's a good choice. I've been missing so many of my favorites like Sarah McLachlan's Wintersong, Grover Washington Junior's Breath of Heaven and Natalie King Cole's The Holly and the Ivy. I clean up the kitchen mess left from making breakfasts and lunches.

These December days, I often set right in making another mess. It's not uncommon for me to bake a batch of Christmas cookies first thing to add to the dwindling stash. They disappear as they're delivered to friends and neighbors, and I need to make a few more trays to share so I'm not ready for a short supply. This week I baked off my gingerbread and snuck in a delicious batch of Mexican wedding cakes. The line-up is fairly set from year to year, but I usually try to throw in a few surprises. The south of the border sweets were one, but they're sort of addicting and so I presume they'll be added to the annual roster. The gingerbread makes a gazillion boys, houses and snowflakes, but they're an acquired taste. I still make them because if you love them, you love them. I love them, and especially with a cup of coffee. Cookies and coffee is quintessential December days.

While I wait for my cookies to come out of the oven, I often sit down to read or write. Peanut takes this as his cue to cuddle and usually hones right in on my lap before any productive input or output can occur. He's hard to resist or reject so I concede. I sit and stare at the tree making mental note of lonely branches and obscured ornaments, but before long I'm far away either in the distant past or the near future and that's my prompt to return. This month has been about living in the moment for me. December is always a time to be.here.now, but this year I need and want this more than ever. Needing what you want is quite a powerful place to be.

I am trying to do something for myself every single day. Monday it was a walk with a friend followed by coffee and then happy hour. She returned to pick up the tray of cookies she left behind just in time for a glass of wine and it was perfect. Yesterday, I went for an overdue mammogram. Folks I received the reminder card, I scheduled an appointment and then I kept the appointment. I have unbelievable doctor/hospital anxiety since losing my mom so this is huge. Tonight I have a shopping/pizza date with Ted and tomorrow I have an appointment for an eye exam. I'm taking care of myself. For the record, It's not all self-indulgence, singing All I Want For Christmas, or raiding the cookie tins either.

I almost finished my shopping yesterday. The key to finishing is just to stay out of malls, and I know this. I also know I'm so over shopping so hopefully I'll resist the seasonal gravitational pull to buy more more more. Truthfully, I was dreading another retail round yesterday, but it was productive and even enjoyable. The clerks were all so friendly not in an overbearing way, but just helpful and patient and relatable. The stores were busy, but I didn't feel stressed or annoyed. I wasn't bothered by the woman in front of me who had to try every coupon for the best deal, or the guy who stopped dead in his tracks in front of me to take a phone call, or the girl who skipped me in line at the cafe. I'm feeling more empathetic and understanding these December days. Tis' the season of goodwill after all. We hear this...we know this. This year I'm feeling it too. Feeling what you know is potent.

I'm trying to wrap a few things every day. I despise wrapping even more than shopping. I'm thankful I've stockpiled boxes because so many stores aren't offering them, and those that are send you off with flimsy impostors. I know people who wrap gifts like works of art. I'm not one of them. In fact, this year I limited myself to 5 roles of new wrap and no new ribbon. I'm determined to use what we have. I have two helpers: Tigger and red wine. Mike will jump in toward the end of the week. I leave everything over-sized and oddly-shaped for his patient care. While I was wrapping yesterday evening, I had a memory from my childhood. It made me smile. My aunts in their 20s would breeze into my Grandma's house and sneak into a back bedroom already late to the party to wrap their gifts last minute. There were years the Christmas wrap was gone and newspaper had to suffice. There were never any ribbons or bows, but they were always my favorite gifts. The presents I pleaded to open first.

My other favorite time of these December days is when everyone is home again. I'm back in the kitchen starting dinner and watching the news. Peanut is keeping me company from his stool. The kids are doing homework and Mike is relaxing. The house is as loud as it was quiet when they all left earlier and after a day of peace, I'm ready for commotion and camaraderie. Lately we've been retiring after dinner to the living room to play HQ. Teddy is all about trivia these days. We linger beside the tree after we lose, which doesn't take long. Eventually though, everyone goes their separate ways to watch something, or Snapchat someone. I've been staying put in the twinkly-lit room reflecting on the beauty of these December days and my sparkly life.