Alive and Kicking Like a Two-Year-Old

Wow, longest time between blog posts ever! Yes, I am still alive. Sorry. I did start to feel a teeny bit ashamed about the lag but then I figured you all wouldn't want to hear any more of my crabbing about rescehduled flights or the hell on earth that is LaGuardia's Delta terminal two days before Christmas anyway.

And then there was Christmas.

And Christmas was lovely. I've always been a sucker for the glowing tree, the Christmas Eve candelight service, and the comforting scents that waft from my mother's warm kitchen. But nothing compares to the sweet Christmas memories that come flooding back after spending the holiday with a child.

My niece, Autumn, is two and a half and Christmas is now clearly understood by her. Well, maybe not that whole thing about the birth of baby Jesus but she definitely gets Santa and the presents he brings to good little girls. When she woke up Christmas morning, she stood up in her crib, pointed to the door, and quasi questioned my sister, "Ho ho?"

This all got me thinking about Christmas Eve as a kid when my excitement would be in complete overdrive. I would practically have heart palpitations while lying in bed, listening for reindeer hooves on the rooftop. My parents actually had to determine a start time for Christmas morning and I distinctly remember staring at the clock, waiting for the red light to flash from 6:59 to 7:00, then bursting in on them. ("ARE YOU REDY TO OPEN PRESENTS YET?!?!")

Although I'm glad that I now have the ability to be lax about presents and to sleep quite soundly on December 24th, I miss that burst of energy upon waking up, that excitement about the unknown activities from the night before. What were in those packages under the tree? Did Santa really read my list and bring me what I wanted or did he completely surprise me this year?

Maybe this is the attitude I need to have for the coming year. Instead of lying wide awake in my bed with heart palpitations derived from a very different, not so fun source, perhaps I should kick around under the sheets, wild with excitement about what's yet to come. Maybe it's not Santa looking out for me anymore, delivering exactly what I want but maybe there is another, more powerful source that will find its way inside of me and help guide me into the right direction. I guess I just need to have a little faith that it will all come to me.

So during the next few weeks, I will try to follow Autumn's lead and look for my inner two-year-old and just be excited about the adventure ahead. And in her words, I will try to be as "Happy! Happy!" as she is along the way.