Christmas Eve has always been my favorite day of the year. I LOVE Christmas, but the day before with its anticipation and its own special traditions make me extra happy. It's kind of like the weekend. Everyone loves Saturday because it's fun and there's even more fun to come on Sunday. Sunday's not quite as nice because you know it's about to end, but you try to enjoy the day and pretend it's not about to end.
I could ramble on and on about Christmas. It's magical. It's joyful. It's cozy. It's bright and sparkly. It's everything I love. Erik pretends to be a Scrooge, but he's not. He's excited to be home playing and relaxing like a little kid. He helps me straighten our Christmas lights and puts the star on the tree. He was even playing Christmas music for about five minutes yesterday (shh!). I've always loved the contrast in our personalities and forcing my optimism and happiness upon him in all the moments when he claims to not want it. But he does want it. That moment where he cracks and smiles like he was accidentally as happy as me for a second is the best moment in the world. It can't be undone. It's like opening a floodgate that drowns away the stress.
That's a reason to love Christmas.
That. And after I stuffed Erik's stocking as full as I could this morning, he suffered from stocking stuffing inferiority complex and had to restuff mine so it looked just as glorious. And spending this morning baking a red velvet cake with white frosting and coconut snow because it's pretty. And Zeke paw prints on my Christmas gift because this ferret has been a part of Erik's life even longer than I have and we're a weird little family that I love. And spending the night at my parents' house tonight in the bedroom I decorated in high school because there are too many Christmas Eve traditions to fulfill to spend that time apart. And packing the car with all the brown paper packages tied up with string presents that, letter by letter, I hand stamped names onto because I'm crazy and spend too much time on Pinterest and love details. And seeing aunts and uncles and cousins and grandparents who I don't see enough and being amazed that time apart means nothing when you're family and there is a rhythm of closeness that never disappears no matter what has transpired between you. And winding up home, exhausted, with my Erik and my Zeke in our beautiful house, recovering only to drive up I 95 to his family and start it all over again.
Those are great reasons to love Christmas.
I hope you and your family have a wonderful holiday. I hope, if you have kids, that Santa Claus comes and makes the morning extra magical. I hope you spend your time with the people who matter. And I hope you appreciate why every year, every person, and every detail matters. And I hope you eat delicious things.