My Christmas Wish

Yesterday I was wandering the interior of Southtowne Mall, content and unrushed, humming along to Christmas music wafting from unseen, muffled speakers. Dollops of red, green, silver and gold caught my eye as I recognized and embraced that exhilarating, giddy feeling that marks the beginning of the holiday season.

I was in a happy mood, happy enough to pause at the kiosk peddling fuzzy little magically moving worms and mention to the dark eyed, pony tailed vendor that I had actually bought some illusion inducing novelties identical to those displayed on his cart in Las Vegas last year. In a suspiciously heavy accented voice he attempted to convince me of the upgraded version which he was willing to sell--to me only--for a mere five dollars a piece. I ambled away with a slight shake of head and a bit of a smirk in response to the four times he referred to me as beautiful...I know...anything to make a sale, but it still made me smile (just a little).

After a stop at Hollister (where the lighting is so dim I ended up buying a hoodie and sweats that were two different shades of blue...) I started up the stairs with only a sideways glance toward PretzelTime (no excess carbohydrates for me...) when I saw him...bright red pants suspended around a full middle, snowy white beard, spectacles resting precariously on the bridge of his nose...

"Oh!" I exclaimed looking around. "It's SAN...ta..." My excitement abated as I realized there was no one around to share this first magical sighting. No baby snuggling in a stroller, no sticky-fingered toddler grasping my pocket, no preschooler begging for a stop at the pretzel shop I so deftly avoided. A faint but noticeable aching feeling tugged at my heart as I realized I was traipsing through the mall unaccompanied, which is convenient and welcome on most days, but not on the day I spotted Santa Claus setting up to welcome eager, excited holiday guests...

A delightful rendition of Grown Up Christmas List caught my attention just as I caught the eye of Santa bustling a few steps below me. He smiled as I stared and focused on the words of one of my favorite holiday tunes which detail the difference between a child's wishes for Christmas and an adult's. How appropriate.

I thought about how life has changed. I remember when our days were not broken up by school time, only nap time. The closest we got to homework was reading aloud Dr. Suess and A Bad Case of Stripes. I remember going for days without leaving the house...it was easier that way. Things were simple then. I could snuggle and smooch my little ones without embarrassment (theirs not mine). I wasn't confiscating cell phones at dinner time and arguing about weekend curfews. I didn't worry about team tryouts and good grades. Timeout was a form of punishment not "me time."

When I arrived home, bags and packages carefully hidden away from curious eyes, I welcomed my kids home from school and told of my Santa sighting.

"Did you talk to him?"

"What did he look like?

"What was he doing?"

After promises were made to return to the mall, young ones in tow, we went about our daily after school activities--homework, practicing, lessons...

Life has changed, but the changes are good. I have fun with my kids. I love that we can all go to the movies and truly enjoy the same show. We play games together, we laugh, a lot. We can ride the same rides at Disneyland and Lagoon, and go to restaurants that don't provide high chairs or even kid menus.

If I have the chance to talk with Santa this year, I will ask him for a very special gift...My Christmas wish is to enjoy each stage of my life. No wishing away limitations that come with having a young family, no longing for more freedom and time to myself. That time will come, sooner than I really want it to. I wish to build memories, and then cherish them forever through the continual changing tides of childhood and life. I wish to always look back with a gleam and a giggle knowing that I made the most out of every single moment and experience.

I know I will spot Santa a time or two this season as I maneuver my way through holiday shopping at the mall. I will make a special effort to take my kids at least once, even the older ones, to visit together, which we can still do, and enjoy. I might even splurge on an expensive (in my opinion) professional photo. That way I'll have a stronghold on the memory--Christmas 2008, suspended in time, just as they are, this fabulous stage of life, appreciated and treasured forever.