Houston, we have achieved meltdown.

I should have known what was coming when we were on the way home from the dollar store.

Grace's school Christmas program was last night, and we stopped at the dollar store on the way home from school to get a "beautiful jewel" to pin on her dress. We were doing this because the dress that Grandma bought her - which has a "beautiful" rhinestone jewel on the front - is too big to wear this Christmas. So we settled on adding a pin to this year's dress.



Note the Christmas tree pin. Snazzy, no?

As we drove home we discussed the program and who would be coming. And that's when the tears started. She was heartbroken that my mom (AKA Grandma Muti) couldn't come. It's not like this was a surprise. She's known for weeks that Muti wasn't going to be there, but somehow it became a life crisis. I really didn't know what to say because, frankly, I was kind of relieved she couldn't come. My dad and step-mom were coming and those two groups don't really mix. But promises of videotaping the show didn't help. Calling Grandma Muti didn't help - in fact, Grace wouldn't even get on the phone.

I decided a long bath would help and threw her in the tub as soon as we got home.

The bath worked. The show was cuteness to the 15th power.


That's Grace in the front row, red dress on the right.

We traipsed out to the car with our somewhat large entourage of grandparents, cousins, aunts and uncles and Grace insisted I sit in the middle in the back. I did. She insisted on clinging to my arm, which was stretched across her body, and whining, "I waaaannnt you," all the way home.

I had to work very hard not to lose my temper. For one thing, I hate whining. It is my absolute number one pet parenting peeve. For another, she was clinging to my arm like a guy who just picked up the very last Wii at BestBuy, yet was still going on about "wanting me." Also, Grace likes to repeat herself. So I got to hear her tragic plea at least 8 times.

But on the other hand, I felt for her. It was bedtime. The energy that had been spiraling upward in a slow-growing frenzy of holiday excitement had reached its apex on the stage, and all she really wanted was a snack and sleep. Truthfully, I felt the exact same way.

It's like this every year. The energy builds, the excitement grows, the lack of sleep and change in routine weaken one's defenses and general good will, and then.... the crash.

But somehow I think this process is a strangely essential part of the whole Christmas experience. The mild sense of being disoriented and over-tired makes it really easy to believe in magic. And that's what Christmas should be. Magic.

Have a wonderful holiday, be safe on New Year's and nap whenever you get the chance in the next few days.