Do You Hear What I Hear?

Do you hear it? The magical sounds of the season? A distant string of sleigh bells? Holiday music coming from the stereo? No? Oh, that’s due to the chorus of coughing in our house. Henry was nearly done with his cold, we thought, but his cough still lingers. Husband has it now, too, and I’m smack in the middle of it. Happy Holidays! The biggest bummer for me is that I’ve lost my singing voice. I’m no Martina McBride, but I do love to sing (and I sometimes wonder what might’ve happened had I applied at a music school....) especially at this time of the year. Unfortunately, I sound like a poor imitation of someone who can sing. Which means the nightly bedtime ritual of singing to my son has become less about singing holiday songs and more about “let’s get this over with.” I doubt he’s critiquing me, but if I can’t stand the way I sound, he probably can't, either.

I’ve also been baking and cooking holiday cookies and candy. This year, I made the fudge that I always make, only without the added fun of plunging my hand into the boiling sugar, milk, and butter. That was my trick last season. Delicious fudge, now with added essence of Jenni! I also made Ina Garten’s Rugelach cookies, which is time consuming but oh-so-delicious! We also have peanut butter blossoms, at Henry’s request. He remembered them from last year and he loves taking the Hershey’s kisses out of their silver wrappers, lucky for me. This coming weekend we’ll bake sugar cookie cut-outs: it’s just not Christmas without them.

Today I picked up an ornament for Henry and one for my husband, building on a tradition I started several years ago. So far, I think I'm the only one who's really enjoying this particular ritual. I think my husband, Tim, usually forgets to buy an ornament for me, and he's forced to go back to the local Patina or Bibelot shops at the last minute to see what's left. But what I'm hoping for is to create a trove of ornaments that Henry will someday take to his own home and hang on his own tree. Thinking that far ahead makes my heart ache. I want him to stay 6 years old forever.

Personally, I'm as excited as a little girl for this Christmas. I have very special gifts for both of the men in my life, to be hidden beneath the tree after both men are in bed on Christmas Eve. I cannot wait to see their faces Christmas morning. I bet I won't even mind when Henry gets us out of bed at 4 a.m. I've been pretty cognizant lately that things may be very different for us next year, if one of us loses our jobs, heaven forbid. So maybe I'm a bit like the ostrich this year, denying there's a recession and stubbornly insisting on buying presents for the big day. But I'm after something deeper, too. I want to have one special day where the words "can't afford" and "trying to save money" aren't part of the conversation. That may come soon enough. For one day, let us feel the thrill like children, laugh like fools, and eat like crazy.

Now pass those cookies!