I’m aging and it’s happening faster than I expected.

First it was subtle, like the increasingly obvious silence between me and my rotating batch of hairdressers whom I suddenly had nothing in common with.

Where we used to exchange stories of our similar weekend adventures, my attempt at discussing the newest offering from Disney Channel was met with silence and a blank stare. The conversation had slipped past pleasantries and right into a silent submission of the dreaded “age gap.”

Then there are the obvious signs, like the increasingly deep wrinkles around my eyes and brow.. Or the slowly diminishing space between my legs when I stand and the inability to lose 10 lbs like I used to.   

I am only in my early, early thirties. Should this be happening so soon? So fast?

Today in the car I was thinking about Christmas.

I am drowning in Christmas this year. I am swimming in store bought, pre-cut cookie dough. I am suffocating under lists of this to buy and that to get. I am barely treading water keeping up with gingerbread houses, letters to Santa, Advent Calendars and decorating. I am sinking in wrapping paper.

Christmas is in three days and I have been working on Christmas since mid November. I am still nowhere near done.

I am making lists, making egg-nog, making sure the kids see nothing but holiday joy and completely, re-arranging my life to make way for Christmas.

So when I looked in the rear view mirror in the midst of these thoughts I saw the effect that the impending holiday had on my facial expressions, it hit me like snow on Christmas Day!

It’s “Stuff” like Christmas that’s making me wrinkle my brow in disgust.

It’s stuff like Christmas that is aging all of us.

I see you in Target and at the grocery store. I see that I am not the only one with a list. I see that some of you even have lists that have lists. I see moms and dads who look tired, stressed out and not full of holiday cheer.

When I look back on Christmases as a child I don’t remember my Mom being stressed out. My Mom made her cookies from scratch – tins of amazingly delicious, homemade cookies. She never looked frazzled and I have no memories of her clamoring to get things done….and my Mom even hosted the event to a decent sized family. I don’t host a soul. Christmas was never anything but holiday cheer in my house growing up.

Maybe I just don’t remember it all. Did my Mom have a better way of hiding her stress or was she just way more organized than I will ever be? Maybe there was a flask somewhere that I didn’t know about….Just kidding Mom!  Whatever she did, it worked because I have no recollections of anything other than Jolly Old St. Nick.

What are we doing wrong? Ok….ok…..I won’t put any of this on you.

What am I doing wrong? Is it the recession? Am I just trying to stretch every penny and is that the culprit for all of this stress? Is it the fact that I said I was going to scale back this year and here I am meeting and exceeding last years goals? Am I taking too much on?

What is really expected of us Moms at Christmas? Somewhere along the way – and it’s the same old story – we too, lost the real meaning of Christmas.

I am too caught up in getting my almost 5 year old “Baby Alive Goes Potty.” I am trying to get everything done, without actually stopping to enjoy any of it. In the end, are my girls going to care when they look back on their Christmases if the outside lights were absolutely perfect? They are not going to remember how neatly things were wrapped and that I burned the last batch of cookies. The fact that one got a few more presents than the other at this age won’t matter either.

Like me, they are going to remember that Sunday they spent their whole day in the kitchen with Mom and Dad taste testing all sorts of Christmas treats. They will remember what it was like to snuggle up and read “The Night Before Christmas” in the same robe or pajamas that we wear every year around this time. They remember the preparations and the traditions and that is what stays with them as THEY age.

I remember all of that and next year, for the sake of me and my kids I am going to try and keep this all in better perspective. I want to embrace Christmas instead of running and hiding from it. I want to revel in the spirit of family and giving and joy. I want to remember why I gather to celebrate this holiday in the first place. Most importantly, I want my children to understand all of this as well.

Don’t get me wrong. I will still secretly revel in the fact that I got the last “Baby Alive Goes Potty” because I snuck up and raced from behind the other Mom’s as they headed for the same doll.  I will cherish the joy in my daughters face on Christmas morning when she opens it.

I guess in the end, its all worth a wrinkle or two.

Last 5 posts by MusingMom

• Getting off the crazy train... - January 9th, 2009
• No Village Idiots Here... - January 20th, 2009
• Mom: The Official Buzz Kill.... - February 5th, 2009
• Where's MY sticker? - February 22nd, 2009