There’s magic hidden in December.
The leftovers from a year of wishing, finding refuge among an assortment of discarded big plans and several breaded things.
And eggnog. Things tend to get stuck there.
Next month, there will be new dreams, hopes, and promises sent out into the world. A few will even grow into something more.
A few, sadly, or forgotten completely.
Turns out, my gym wear looks better at home. In soft-hued light.
But right now, during the last few weeks of the year, before the big man arrives or the fated ball drops, we can find that leftover magic, and do something great with it.
One last gift.
Yesterday, my super cautious son conquered the zip line at Sky Zone.
You might run a half-marathon this December. Open that long book. Or finish it.
Take the picture AND frame it.
Maybe you’ll apologize. And breed a little more happiness into the night.
Bonus for us all.
However you wish to use your gift, do it.
Even if you just use that lil bit of magic to take a chance on someone. Or something.
As a mother, and a human that battles daily anxiety, I’m running on snow-capped fumes by the end of the year. I’m still joyful, still hoping someone notices my efforts, but every time I forget to move that damn elf or attend some extravagant event with fake snow and real french hens, I feel like I’m single-handedly ruining Christmas for my children.
That’s a lot of unnecessary weight to carry. Especially, this close to hot chocolate season.
So, I signed up for a cooking class. Because I would like to prepare something special on Christmas Eve. And at my current state, I do not have the ability to do much more than reheat someone else’s hard work.
Or H-E-B, premade selections.
And it’s given me something kind of cool to look forward to this month. Something besides presents and that part in Home Alone when Kevin makes cardboard people dance to Brenda Lee and it LEGIT looks like his family didn’t abandon him.
It’s even helped with the anxiety. And elf guilt.
Because instead of just waiting for things to end, I’m beginning something in the midst of December chaos.
Not just because the new year told me to. But because I decided to be like my son.
And just go for it.
In the company of trained professionals and soft places to land, of course.