…a friend came to see me.  Tonight, actually, as I was labeling my Christmas cards.  She had a little time between a meeting and picking up her kids, so she just stopped by to chat for a few.  She only stayed half an hour, but it was so much fun, sitting and laughing about nothing while we both took a break from the grind of the day.

Why don’t we women “stop by” and see each other anymore?  Our grandmothers did it.  Our mothers did it.  (Mine still does.)  I never do.  Never.  Really, as much as I claim to be a good and loyal faithful, if I want to see friends, it has to be on the calendar.  That’s pathetic.  How about you?  Are you a stopper-byer?

Tonight after my friend left, I realized something a little funny and a little embarrassing:  having her stop by actually made me feel younger.  Seriously!  Before you laugh, I want you to think back to high school, when you had zero responsibilities and friends came and went from your house like the removable bands on your Swatch watch.  When a girlfriend stopped by back then, you didn’t think, “Shoot, I really like her but it is after seven…”  No!  You wanted to hear the scoop and show off your cute new socks.  Wasn’t it fun back then, having girlfriends–and not just Enrichment Activities?  Don’t you miss it?

Every December, I try to dream up some massive service project that will teach my children the true meaning of Christmas.  Every December, I fail.  Sure, we give where we can, but I have yet to launch anything that is Ensign-worthy.  And then I feel bad.  (Especially when I read the Ensign.)  (And did you know there are parents, somewhere out there in the world, who wake their children up at 5 am every day to read the scriptures for an hour?  An hour.  Five to six o’clock.  a.m.  Have mercy, Ensign.)

This year, I’m ditching the self-righteous dream of The Perfect Christmas Service Project.  This year, I’m just gonna “stop by” and let the people I love know that I love them.  Warm Christmas fuzzies aren’t just about helping the anonymous needy, they’re about appreciating the people we see every day.  Sometimes I forget that my friends and family need some cheering up, too, and that we all need a little attention now and then.  And often I forget that the best Christmas fuzzies are usually simple, and spontaneous, and surprisingly close to home.

Which is where I’ll be, should you choose (oh pretty pretty please) to stop by.

…I read my kids a Christmas story before bed.   You see, my sister gave me this fun idea to do a 12 Days of Christmas activity with the kids, which includes reading a story and giving them a little treat to go with it every night.  Like I said in my last post:  no glue, no glitter, no cutting; I can do that.  So I got on the blog that has all the stories and treat ideas ready to go and followed suit.  It’s simple and the kids love it.  Last night was a touching story about a family who gave up their own gifts to help a struggling family with Christmas.  It was heartwarming.

Tonight, however, the story was about how Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer was originally written.  Apparently, it was written by a poor, discouraged man who lived in a shabby little apartment during the Great Depression.  He was a gaunt, sickly boy who’d been teased mercilessly in his youth, and then went on to a meager copywriting job as an adult.  His wife lay stricken with cancer for over two years, completely bedridden, while his sad daughter asked questions like, “Daddy, why isn’t my mommy like other mommies?”  Just when you think things couldn’t get any worse, the poor wife dies.  Her bereaved husband writes the story of Rudolph to cheer up his daughter and goes on to read it at an office party.  It’s an instant hit and sells over six million copies worldwide, but the widower still grieves his wife and spends the rest of his life in a sort of quasi-peace, the weight of his loss only slightly offset by the commercial success of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.

End of story.

Bummer.

We all went to bed depressed.

So much for my attempt to keep up with My Sister’s Creative Mothering.

This post is my early Christmas gift to you, my three faithfuls, lest you were concerned that after my last post, my holiday anecdotes would be all visions-‘o-sugarplum.  No, no, my friends.  We’re already at Strike One against The Perfect Christmas.  (I didn’t think it would come this early.  Crap.)

Tomorrow night I think we’ll try Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer.  That should set the right tone.

Are you ready for it, girls?  Or are you just bracing yourself to get ready?  Either way, Christmas is coming and the goose is getting fat (remember that song?  Love it.)  We have twelve days to Christmas and dangit if I’m not a little excited.  After spending our last Christmas moving, everything about this Christmas feels like a luxury; we have dishes in the cupboards, clothes in the closets, and couches to sit on.  In fact, finally feeling settled in our home has made me very merry this year, and I’ve already done most of my shopping, made a ton of cookies, and listened to about eighty hours of Christmas music in my kitchen (Christmas Cello by Steven Sharp Nelson is my new fave.  So pretty.)  I’ve also already gained a solid three-to-five pounds, which I always try to get done early along with the shopping.  (One more thing I can check off my list.)

For the first time maybe ever, I don’t feel stressed this year.  Either I’m getting better at putting on Christmas or I just don’t care anymore if it’s not perfect (like it ever was.  ha.)  This is the best part about getting older:  you care about everything a little bit less and enjoy everything a little bit more.  It’s so nice.

So in that spirit of non-stress I’ve decided to honor the Twelve Days of Christmas by posting a fun little anecdote about Christmas each day.  It requires no glue, glitter, or cutting, so I think I can do it.  (The second best thing about getting older is that you accept your limitations.  I do not do crafts.  Never have.  Never will.  Sorry, oh Crafts.)  But here’s a little something that put a smile on my face:

Imagine the blog posts that would flow from my keyboard wearing this dandy in 2012.