Because I Want the Nativity Scene Up There, That's Why

Our TV is blasting The Grinch and my family is watching with fresh eyes as we giggle at my 3 year old grandson taking it all in with a silly grin on his face. He is nestled under his mommy's arm and my son is in a rocker with our granddaughter, born just 19 days ago. 

I know you'd like to see that picture. But tonight I want to tell you about a moment a few days ago, in the kitchen you see above. I was on tiptoe with one foot on the top step of that step ladder and the other on the counter. My arms were stretched high above my head trying to keep my fingers on a heavy ceramic pitcher. You can see it below. 

Here's the situation; A collection of pretty bottles and pitchers decorate the top my kitchen cabinets all year long. But in December they must come down so I can display my favorite Nativity scene up there. They must.

Husband hates these important projects each year...but it simply must be done. It must. Not that he is up there doing it. He hates that I am risking my neck and insists that I only do it when he is home. So he can call 911 I guess. 

So this year I made myself wait for his day off to make the big switch. The house was quiet and he was watching a PBS documentary with his eyes closed while I was discovering that the heavy pitcher was not moving easily. Maybe it was the hot, humid summer we just went through or maybe it was the greasy dust above the stove area, but for some reason the pitcher was stuck. 

I pulled and it tipped and I yelled "HONEY!! I need you!!" He kept me from falling and I was able to hand him the sturdy pitcher safely. All ended well. Nothing was shattered, human or ceramic. 

December has a way of reminding me of my mom, every single year. She was one of those crazy-for-Christmas ladies that everyone talks about...and I keep on seeing her in myself, my home and my words. I fought it at first, but what is the point? 

Now I think about my mom and her bigger than life, much bigger than anything I would do, holiday decorations and projects. And I know that my dad was her muscle to make a lot of the magic happen. I am pretty sure he was shaking his head in wonder and worry over her shenanigans at Christmas time too. He will be here with us for Christmas this year, I will have to ask him about that.

My mom with my son, her first grandchild.

Me with his son, my first grandchild. 

          I know...sigh.          

Susie, Grandma, writer, preschool teacher, crazy Christmas lady.