27/12/2022
Love this xx
It’s both heartwarming and heartbreaking that the emotional and physical labour of a mother will go unnoticed this Christmas.
Some years, in some moments, I sit back with a gentle knowing and a thoughtful sense of gratitude as my children rip open their presents that I carefully selected. I have zero expectation for a “thank you”. Even when they hate them. Because I know in a week’s time, they will become a favourite. I know they are little. I’ve thrown Barbies in the face of uncles in my time.
I don’t even flinch when they ask “is that it?” or find themselves overwhelmed by the stimulation and crash of Christmas. I am there. Mothering. Dark rooms and a picture book with pop-ups and flaps, away from the party, became my specialty for many years.
But when everyone else sees the pretty girls in their party dresses without knowing how difficult leaving the house could be. When everyone else offers impractical but very beautiful things or gifts that exceeded our modest and very consciously selected Christmas budget. When everyone else pours a champagne and you say “no thanks” because it’s a bit hard to hold with a wiggly baby in your arms.
Some years, it doesn’t feel so shiny.
I want you to know that although you may not feel “seen” and witnessed as you deserve, the work that came from your head, your heart and your hands is valuable.
And it doesn’t have to feel fair. It will never be equitable. Not this year, anyway. Magic cannot be recreated.
Because what you’ve created is indeed the Magic of Christmas.
It may not be seen. Your children, your partner, your family — they may not tell you that they “see”, that they “know”. But it will be felt. Felt so deeply in their hearts, like planting a seed.
A seed that blooms for years and years to come.
The Christmas Magic.
