I. Love. Christmas. I love the lights, the music, the presents, and the food. We can't forget the food. Especially pumpkin pie.But none of these are the real reason I love Christmas. I love Christmas because for a few weeks of the year it's okay to believe in magic. Even if you no longer believe in flying reindeer, everything seems to be brimming with possibility, excitement, and hope. (Says every sappy Christmas movie ever made)
This year I've already experienced the power of Christmas Magic. My husband's family always celebrates the weekend before December 25th. It is one of a very few days that the majority of his family gets together, and, unless you are dead or deployed, attendance is basically required. So, when my infant's immunizations were scheduled for the day before the four-hour car ride, I shrugged. I hoped they didn't make her too fussy, but we had to go.
Then, while I was at the doctor's office with the baby, I got a message from Mom, who was watching my two-year old. He had a stomach virus, and everything that went with it. Great. I called my husband at work, explained the situation, and got the answer I expected: We still have to go.
Does this sound like a good idea to you? Two sick babies on a four hour trip? Just wait, it gets better. Thanks to a sudden weather shift, we were blessed with an ice storm the night before the trip. Half an inch of ice covered everything. And guess who else woke up with the stomach virus? Yep. Momma was going down. So, convinced we were in for the worst weekend of our lives, we loaded up and headed out. But, you know what? I forgot to count on Christmas Magic.
We passed downed trees and powerlines, but, somehow, the road managed to stay just above freezing. We didn't hit a single ice patch in four hours. Pretty cool, huh? Not as cool as the fact that the only effect my baby's shots seemed to have was making her want to sleep almost the entire car ride. (Mommy happy dance)
Finally we made it. And, on his own, my toddler decided to avoid all sweets and only eat crackers. (This alone should be considered a Christmas miracle.) Even though my son and I were nibbling crackers and chugging stomach meds, we all ended up having a great time. There were no gross messes to clean, fussy children to console, and no one else got sick. No disasters at all. And, by the time we headed home, we were feeling good enough to have a tiny piece of dessert. And the kids were so worn out from their fun weekend that they slept all the way home. And that, my friends, is the power of Christmas Magic. :)