Seventeen years ago we had a snow storm.  I know this because I drove to the hospital in it to give birth to my first-born.  My husband had been out with his company pushing snow and came home around midnight.  I was eight days overdue and just a tad big and uncomfortable (and if you knew me then, you understand why this is sarcastically funny!)  Around 2:00 a.m. I felt a pop.  I can’t describe it, but I knew my water had broken.  I woke up my sleepy husband and as we left the house I remember standing at the front door staring back into the house thinking…this is it…this is where my life becomes “before kids” and “after kids”.  Nothing will be the same.  And it wasn’t.  Thank God. 

After 19 hours of labor, three hours of pushing, and a final attempt with the forceps, all 7 lbs 4 oz, 22 inches of Brandon Thomas Walters entered this world and more importantly, entered my life.

My sweet son.  I feel sorry for him sometimes because he has been somewhat of an experiment for me.  A combination of instinct and trial and error.  A multitude of mistakes by me as I navigate this thing called parenthood.  Sometimes I’m at the wheel in full control and other times I’m flying down a hill with no brakes and realize I don’t even have a steering wheel to guide me.  He stoically takes the brunt of my inexperience knowing he is only making things easier for his little sister as I learn from the mistakes I make with him.

First-born children are often described as being

• Reliable
• Conscientious
• Structured
• Cautious
• Perfectionists
• Highly motivated to achieve success
• Enjoy making others happy
• Leaders

These traits describe Brandon well.  Although he may be forgetful and unorganized at times, when it comes to the things that really matter…his responsibilities within our family, his love for his little sister, his commitment to his teammates, he is reliable and conscientious.  He has always been cautious, a deep thinker, seldom acting on impulse.  And he thrives on structure.  He has always liked to know “the plan”.  He likes things a certain way and doesn’t like to deviate from that.  He’s a homebody, feeling most himself in the comfort of our home.  Over the past couple of years, I’ve watched him grow into a leader on and off the basketball court and anyone who knows him, knows the joy he brings when he is part of your life.  He is kind, compassionate, sensitive, and loyal and he continues to make my heart melt just as he did as a baby and little boy.

When Brandon was about five, he was obsessed with trophies.  He wanted as many trophies as he could get his hands on.  He particularly fell in love with a big golf trophy my dad had won in a tournament and as most grandfathers would do, my dad gave it to him.  He displayed it proudly in his room and it was later joined by a t-ball trophy he received.  He loved his trophies.  Within the next year my dad died.  The grownups in the family decided to each choose a special memento to include in the casket with my dad when we buried him.  Each of us came up with something that represented a special moment between each of us and my dad.  On the day we were going to the family viewing and placing our articles in the casket, Brandon came into my bedroom with his t-ball trophy and asked if he could put it in Gdad’s casket.  He wanted to make him happy the way he had made him happy.

And that’s my Brandon…all summed up in one short paragraph.  So, happy birthday Brandon!  I hope you know how special you are EVERY day, but especially on this significant and meaningful day in all of our lives.  We love you and are very proud of you!

I always think THIS is the year.

The year I get all my Christmas shopping done by December 1.

The year I can then spend my December wrapping gifts that are Pinterest worthy.

The year I spend time in the kitchen baking wonderful treats with my daughter with my apron on and Christmas music playing in the background.

The year my Christmas cards are ordered in plenty of time for me to sit at my CLEAN dining room table, sipping on hot chocolate while watching the snow fall with my excel spreadsheet of addresses.

The year the whole family can’t wait to help with the decorating.

The year I’m able to resist all the wonderful food brought to work.

The year my house stays clean the whole month of December and friends come in and out, drinking wine and eating the appetizers that are always out welcoming my
visitors.

The year my husband puts up the outside lights in a timely manner while he sips on a bourbon, enjoying the fact that he can participate in this wonderful holiday and when he is done, all the lights work.

The year I finally listen to my kids and I don’t worry if each kid gets the same number of gifts and if I’ve spent the same amount on each because I don’t want anyone to think I have a “favorite”.

The year the whole family watches all the holiday classics with me.

Ok, ok…I know.  I’m living in a fantasy world.  Do you want to hear my reality?

I will still be shopping December 24 although I will swear I have everything I need way before that.

I will begin with creative wrapping and beautiful bows and get tremendously sick of wrapping and the majority of my gifts will look like my dog got a hold of them.

I won’t even walk in the kitchen except to grab some oreos from the cabinet.

I might take a Christmas card picture but no one will be able to agree on a picture and so I will just forget the whole thing.  If I do happen to get a Christmas card together, it will be so late I will be frantically tearing off return labels of Christmas cards I receive and sending them only to them because I don’t have time to look up anyone’s address. 
(And my dining room table is NEVER clean!)

No one wants to help with the decorating, including me sometimes.

I will not resist any of the yummy food brought to work.  In fact I will hide some of it to eat later.

My house will only be clean on the day the cleaners come and if anyone shows up at my door I will probably hide because I haven’t had a shower or my house is too much of a mess.

It will take my husband DAYS to put up the lights with at least 5 trips to Lowes for lights that work and then we will forget to turn them on for the entire month of
December.

I will meticulously count gifts to make sure everything is even, even if it means going out and buying something I know they don’t want just to have something wrapped.

If I turn on Frosty, everyone will leave the room and go watch TV in their bedrooms.

But this is THE year for something.  It’s the year I give up unrealistic expectations, embrace my imperfections, and plan to enjoy the good, bad, and ugly of the holiday season, because that’s what makes it memorable.  The traditions we’ve created as a family are priceless.  My kids will reluctantly help decorate but I know deep inside they kind of enjoy it.  My husband will cuss his way through the lights but will be kind of proud when we all stand outside and ooh and ahh over how pretty they look.  I will act all grumpy over having to fight the crowds for the last minute gifts but will be thrilled when I find “the perfect” gift for someone.  We all will be excited when my Bella-wrapped gifts go under the tree.  We will entertain a lot and it will be exhausting, but a happy kind of exhausting.  And if I pout enough, the family will watch “It’s A Wonderful Life” with me on Christmas Eve and maybe even be kind of glad they did.  Whether some of my holiday fantasies come true or if I just live out my reality for another year, it doesn’t matter.  All that matters is I’m surrounded by people I love and people who love me.  THAT’S the magic of Christmas.  

What makes your holidays magical?