It hit me

We were watching the end of a Christmas movie this weekend called Fred Claus. If you haven't seen it, I definitely recommend it. This doesn't give anything away, but during the last few scenes of the movie it shows in various homes children tearing open gifts in anticipation of the packages hiding just beneath the paper. Surrounding them are their parents, grandparents, or other friends or family. Huge grins, warm smiles . . . and for just a brief moment in time, that same childhood feeling of Christmas exhilaration came over me. I pictured our family of 5 on Christmas Eve driving around to look at Christmas lights and playing a good ol' round of the "Christmas game" before we were off to bed. My 2 sisters and I would usually sleep in the same room, sometimes even the same bed. We would talk and laugh until late into the night and I promise you, we heard reindeer hooves on the roof. It's funny now that I think about it, I never actually remember falling asleep. Every year I would say I was going to stay up all night, but I never once made it.

Late to bed, early to rise and we would attack the tree and stockings. Once mom and dad were up, the smell of Pillsbury cinnamon rolls filled the air. The rest of the day went for us like it did for most families, but we all know the simple joy and pleasure that comes from that.

After my brief trip down memory lane, it hit me. These same stories and memories are beginning in my own life with my own little family. This is the last Christmas in the Borrack house where it is just Matt and I. Christmas as we know it will take on a whole new meaning when it's our child pleading with us and tugging on our pj's to get up so gifts can be opened. My house will be the one smelling like cinnamon rolls. Traditions will blend and weave into a beautiful pattern all our own. I can't comprehend the feeling of watching our child's face slowly change from wonder and curiosity to overwhelming joy of what's wrapped just beneath the thin colorful paper. Our tree now adorn with his, hers, and ours ornaments will be shared with egg carton angels and walnut snowmen covered in glue and glitter. I will proudly hang the paper ornament displaying our gorgeous child's school photo as they argue in the background about how much they can't stand that picture. Instead of staying up late leaving cookies and carrots for Santa and hearing reindeer hooves, I will be loosing sleep behind our bedroom door wrapping gifts and stuffing stockings. I'm now typing through tears. This life I have prayed for, a child my arms have hoped for, a home my heart has desired . . . it has begun.

It's scary, it's exciting, and it leaves me full of anticipation, but there is no need to rush it. I am going to soak in every aspect of this last Christmas of just the 2 of us. This will go by all too fast and this baby is only 13 weeks in the making, I guess I shouldn't cry about their paper ornaments yet. I can start Christmas off right for our family though. This Christmas I can read my child the story of our Savior, the true and only reason of why we have Christmas.