The Magic

Being "in the trenches" means to be involved, usually in something rigorous or difficult. Haven't we all been there?

I often find myself wondering if my children recognize my shortcomings.

There is no vacation fund.

No one is getting an iPad for Christmas. I don't even have an iPad.

We haven't had cable in over a year.

We are skipping big birthday parties this year.

But we do have pajama day at least once a week.

We do make a huge pallet on the living room floor and pop popcorn and watch their favorite movies.

We do arts and crafts, which they love.

We do lay all of the toys out and play.

We do snuggle and spend quality time together.

I'm perfectly content with creating memories with them at home. But do they realize that this is not the life that I envisioned providing for them? I have to remember that the trenches won't last forever.

With the holidays approaching, the trenches feel deeper. I constantly try and remember how young they are and that one day all that they will remember is that their mother was there with them. They will remember me spending time with them and that's what matters. I always dreamed of being a mother around Christmas. I prayed to be able to one day provide the magic that every child deserves to feel this time of year.

I wanted to take them to City Park in New Orleans to see the lights. I wanted to take them on The Polar Express train ride. I wanted to take Chloe to Teddy Bear Tea. There's so much that I wanted to experience with them, to provide for them to make the season magical.

God knew that I needed a sign. A sign that what I was doing was enough and He sent me that sign this week through Julien's perspective.

On Monday, the Christmas tree was still in the attic and I was determined to get it down and decorate that evening after work. I get home, get in the attic, and start moving the tree piece by piece. As my luck would have it I dropped two of the pieces on the one of the areas covered in insulation. Thankfully, it didn't fall through the ceiling but it was covered in white junk. I figured I'd just get it all off once I had it set up.

I get it all set up and go to plug it in and only half of the lights work. Figures.

Julien walks into the living room and says "Mom, the tree is covered in snow! I always wanted snow on my Christmas tree. And look at all of the lights!"

My perspective: The tree is 8 years old and slants to the right. Half of the lights don't work and it's covered in mess. I'm putting the tree up late and a good mom would have done this a week ago.

Julien's perspective: My mom just brought a magical tree filled with snow into our house and it's covered in lights.

If you are overwhelmed this holiday season be reminded that the best magic isn't always what costs the most. There will never be a day that I will provide everything that my children deserve. They deserve the world and I can't give it to them. But I can pour my heart and soul into everything that I do give them and that's where the magic is.

The bottom line is that expectations have the potential to ruin all things. If I leave expectations at the door I won't be disappointed. If I spend my days comparing my life as it is to the life that I envisioned I will never feel like I'm enough. In the grand scheme of things this is all temporary. My children don't feel like they are missing out. They embrace this life and regardless of how mediocre it feels to me, it's magical to them.

xo,

Mary-Ellen