Because its not the Holidays until Somebody Cries (which in this case may just be me...)

There is a commercial running right now with a group of children, all in PJ's with headlamps on their heads, crowded on a couch waiting for Santa. One of the kids – a little girl with chubby cheeks and curly hair – squeezes her arms close to her chest like she might just explode. In my head I can hear the tiny escape of breath – a high pitched EEEEEEEeeeeee – as she waits.

I can hear that sound because that little girl is me. At some point during every holiday season since I can remember I have struck that pose. It is as if the Holiday Spirit has possessed me and the only way to exorcise it is that high pitched EEEEEeeeeeeee!

The catalyst might be anything:

The long ride to Grandma's after church for the first round of gifts and food (the ride was a whopping fifteen minutes), the year Santa brought the Olympic Barbie with real-live-action foot joints allowing her to skate and do cartwheels all while wearing wiglets from her accessory pack; later it was delight in our first tree as a married couple and then the excitement of seeing our son actually hover off the ground the year Santa brought him a fireman coat and a workbench.

This year the trigger was different. Thanks to some sadly busy work shifts, horrific news stories and incompetent Mayan day-planners I have been obsessing about 'the end of the world'. In the literal sense it is a mute point. Planet blows up, game over. But in the more personal interpretation...suffice it to say, I have lost a little sleep of late. I fretted over our kids travel plans, counting the hours until I got the text: "I'm home :)" Four cars in the driveway and my world was safe for another day.

And with that tiny bit of crazy put to bed, my excitement was free to begin ramping up: holiday shopping-complete, groceries - put away, my husband - stewing about the rambunctiously wrapped, unidentifiable gift with his name on it, poorly hidden in the family room – set the timer. The anticipation of Christmas Eve dinner with my folks and the thrill of hearing from my brother and his family who live half a world away - winding the springs. And finally, last night as our grown children ate and laughed and joked with their also grown cousins in one of our favorite hangouts that excitement ticked its last tick...

And I was once again that little girl on the couch in my Pjs, squeezing myself so tightly I might explode. (and thankfully, it was so noisy in no one could hear the EEEEEEEeeeeee!!)

Here's to YOU and your own exploding moment, from me on the Coast of Illinois. Have a safe and precious Holiday, whatever Holiday you celebrate and may Your World be safe for every single day.

Me and Santa on the Floor Zamboni - because this is how awesome my World is!