Thoughts on Christmas

There is a paragraph from a book that runs through my mind constantly about this time of year--  every single year: 

"As he lay there shivering, an unbidden thought crept into his consciousness.  He felt the first stab of a new, adult anxiety that would remain with him for the rest of his life.

Would what he had done be enough? 

Would the offerings be accepted?"

- Secret Santa pg 148 Anne Osborn Poleman

I love that paragraph (I LOVE the whole book, really) because it captures perfectly how I feel.

And, I'm feeling that way now.

The gifts are wrapped. The cookies are made and the stockings are ready to be stuffed. Will it be enough and further, will it be accepted?

I know in my heart of hearts that, of course, it will be. But, that doesn't stop me from worrying. Did I miss that secret item that my child didn't tell me about, but hid it away in the recesses of their heart?

monchichi monchichi, so soft and cuddly!

I did that one year with a Monchichi. I wanted one so bad, but I never told anyone. When asked what I wanted I said something predictable for me -- like a soccer ball. I never played with dolls, but Oh! I wanted this doll so bad I could feel it to the core of my bones.

I wrote about it once and how it was the ghost of  my Christmas past that still haunts me.  Oddly enough, that post is also my most Googled post.

Weird. 

I went back that year to get the silly little critter, and it was gone. I felt like a silly twelve year old girl  again.

I saw that stupid thing again at Target this past week and started arguing with myself all over again. I even got a little misty eyed as I looked it up and down-- and actually played with it in the toy aisle of Target.

Of course I bought the silly Monchichi this time around and I'm actually putting it my Christmas Stocking.

But, I still worry.

Will my child be that 40 year old wiping the tears from their eyes as they stand in the toy aisle and look at that one toy that had been their secret desire? That one toy they had wanted more than anything?

I hope not.

I can see why children are spoiled-- and feel so entitled. I want them to be happy, and while I know that things aren't what make them happy, I want them to have those secret desires of their heart.

And so now is the time I start to worry-- Will it be enough and will it be accepted?

Experience has taught me that yes, all will be well.

But until the day has come and gone, all I can do is wait. And worry.