I used to hate January and February. They are dark and cold. But now I find myself looking forward to them. Looking forward to bundling up and staying in. Looking forward to cooking big, hearty meals and weekends without plans.
I will try to be jolly and bright and pretend that this is the most wonderful time of the year. I will bake cookies and decorate ginger bread houses and wear lots of red. And I know that I will have fun and I know that I will be enjoying more moments than most months afford. And my kids will, hopefully, be none the wiser about my secret bah humbug attitude.
Because their excitement and enthusiasm remind me that these are fleeting moments. This is the only Christmas season that season is 8 and Gus is 6 and Arlo will turn 1. They won't be so excited to decorate Christmas trees for long. And in the blink of an eye, I'll be back to having a tree that actually has ornaments on the bottom half.