I am Michelle D. Carter

Christmas is always such a fun, magical, crazy, pain in the ass time of year. So many emotions trying to keep a handle on everything. It’s exhausting! When my daughter was first born, my husband laid down the law and said we were going to have Christmas morning in our house from here on out. It was the tradition he was setting. At first I was not happy with him. At the time we were living in the same town as his family. My family was five hours away. That was saying to me, that we would be spending every Christmas with his family, while my family got Thanksgiving. I grew up where we alternated holidays. One year we’d spend Thanksgiving with Mom’s side of the family while Dad’s side got Christmas. Then the following year, we’d spend Thanksgiving with Dad’s side and Mom’s side got Christmas. That seems like a fair solution to me. Yet, here is my husband completely rocking that boat. As the years went on, I was glad Tim had decided Christmas morning was at our own home. It’s hard enough to pack the whole family up for a trip let alone include Christmas in the mix.

This Christmas was our first Christmas in South Carolina. See, it was a good thing we had decided not to travel. First of all, the drive would have been awful. Twenty hours in a van with three children – makes me want to slit my wrists just thinking about it. Not to mention that we would have had to drive through tons and tons of snow and cold. My Mom said they couldn’t even get out of their front door and it took a lot of pushing to open the back door. Although, my kids would have loved to have been there to play in the snow. All three of them kept asking MOM, WHEN IS IT GOING TO SNOW HERE? I digress.

Typically, my kids are really good about going to bed Christmas Eve. They know that in order for Santa to come, they have to be asleep. For some reason, I had a tough time going to sleep Christmas Eve. Maybe it was the excitement of Christmas morning, wondering if the kids (Tim included) would enjoy their gifts. Maybe it was the holiday classic I was watching, Forensic Files. I shut the TV off around 1:00 in the morning. GIRLFRIEND, YOU HAVE GOT TO GET SOME SLEEP. As I lay there, I started to hear some commotion upstairs. What are those kids doing? Surely they won’t try to come downstairs. It is way too early. Shortly there after, I hear the pitter patter of little feet on the stairs and the glow of the flashlight swinging about. I come out of my bedroom and find ALL THREE of them about half way down the stairs shining the flashlight directly on the presents “St. Nick” had left hours before.

WHAT ARE YOU DOING? GET BACK TO BED! They hurried back up the stairs totally shocked they had been busted.

Around 6:00 am, I can hear them waking up and getting around. I got up to brush my teeth so I’d be ready when they came downstairs. However, I didn’t have time to complete my task when I hear MOM AND DAD’S LIGHT IS ON, WE CAN GO DOWN.

With the master bedroom on the main level, gone are the days of telling the kids WAIT FOR US BEFORE YOU GO DOWNSTAIRS. I had barely peed when Alyssa brought her new skateboard in to show me.

The excitement – that’s what I love most about Christmas. It’s what makes the exhaustion worth it.