Christmas is my favorite time of year. I love everything about it. I love decorating, I love shopping, I love the smells, the baking, the food, the dinners. I love it. What I love most of all is the happiness. Everyone is a little nicer, a little more friendly, and it's the time of year when family gets together, if at no other time.
It's been hard for me this year. Every light and every ornament makes me think of Isabelle. Everytime I go shopping in any Christmas department, I will inevitably come across Baby's 1st Christmas ornaments, and I want to buy one, or sometimes I want to smash them all. There are adorable Christmas outfits. There are cute hairbows and fancy dresses, and those ridiculous tights with the ruffles across the butt. On more than one occasion I have found myself digging my phone out of my purse to call and complain about the insensitivity of having all that damn baby stuff right inside the door so it smacks me in the face every time I walk in. But I also walk by it and I want to touch it all.
So Christmas. I want to make this Christmas special for Maddy and Abbey. I don't them to remember this Christmas with an asterisk. So we have 4 trees up, we still have to finish decorating them, but they are up. We have the 10 tons of other decorations out and about. We have some new outside lights. We got out the stockings to hang. We hang ours on the staircase banister. From top to bottom, oldest to smallest. Duffy and I had already decided that we would hang up Izzy's stocking this Christmas and every Christmas. But I hadn't sewn hers yet. I thought about buying one, but I can't. Maddy and Abbey both have sequined, appliqued stockings, and I want her to have everything that they do. So I'm sewing her stocking. It's impossible. I should be done with it by now. I keep putting it aside with various excuses. What it really is, is that I can't sew it without thinking of her, and I can't seem to think of her right now without crying and feeling mad. I hate that she's not here. I hate that there are kids all over the world neglected, and unwanted and unloved, and my beautiful and loved and wanted little girl was taken from me. I hate those mothers who take for granted how lucky they are. I hate them, and I don't hate people, I get mad and frustrated, but I don't hate. The intensity of this hatred is hard to convey, and scary to me at times. I don't know when I'll stop feeling it, or if I will. But it's what I'm feeling now.
So, you can imagine it's hard to sew sequins on these felt snowmen when what I would really like to be doing is holding a fussy squirmy baby who doesn't want to sleep. I would like to crawl upstairs to bed silently congratulating myself for having 3 girls in bed, only to hear little cries from down the hall, right after I get comfortable. But instead, I'm crying a little while I stay up sewing this stocking.
It's been hard for me this year. Every light and every ornament makes me think of Isabelle. Everytime I go shopping in any Christmas department, I will inevitably come across Baby's 1st Christmas ornaments, and I want to buy one, or sometimes I want to smash them all. There are adorable Christmas outfits. There are cute hairbows and fancy dresses, and those ridiculous tights with the ruffles across the butt. On more than one occasion I have found myself digging my phone out of my purse to call and complain about the insensitivity of having all that damn baby stuff right inside the door so it smacks me in the face every time I walk in. But I also walk by it and I want to touch it all.
So Christmas. I want to make this Christmas special for Maddy and Abbey. I don't them to remember this Christmas with an asterisk. So we have 4 trees up, we still have to finish decorating them, but they are up. We have the 10 tons of other decorations out and about. We have some new outside lights. We got out the stockings to hang. We hang ours on the staircase banister. From top to bottom, oldest to smallest. Duffy and I had already decided that we would hang up Izzy's stocking this Christmas and every Christmas. But I hadn't sewn hers yet. I thought about buying one, but I can't. Maddy and Abbey both have sequined, appliqued stockings, and I want her to have everything that they do. So I'm sewing her stocking. It's impossible. I should be done with it by now. I keep putting it aside with various excuses. What it really is, is that I can't sew it without thinking of her, and I can't seem to think of her right now without crying and feeling mad. I hate that she's not here. I hate that there are kids all over the world neglected, and unwanted and unloved, and my beautiful and loved and wanted little girl was taken from me. I hate those mothers who take for granted how lucky they are. I hate them, and I don't hate people, I get mad and frustrated, but I don't hate. The intensity of this hatred is hard to convey, and scary to me at times. I don't know when I'll stop feeling it, or if I will. But it's what I'm feeling now.
So, you can imagine it's hard to sew sequins on these felt snowmen when what I would really like to be doing is holding a fussy squirmy baby who doesn't want to sleep. I would like to crawl upstairs to bed silently congratulating myself for having 3 girls in bed, only to hear little cries from down the hall, right after I get comfortable. But instead, I'm crying a little while I stay up sewing this stocking.
Wishing I could help with the pain, but I know that there is nothing I can do to make it better. I would sew the stocking and bring a box of Kleenex if that would help in some small way. Know that I think of you often and have kept you on my prayers. Sending my love to you!
ReplyDeleteKerri
Wishing I could help with the pain, but I know that there is nothing I can do to make it better. I would sew the stocking and bring a box of Kleenex if that would help in some small way. Know that I think of you often and have kept you on my prayers. Sending my love to you!
ReplyDeleteKerri
I would love to help you sew the stocking. Oh wait, you know my lack of sewing ability. I should probably just give you moral support. Go Niki Go!
ReplyDeleteErica