I knew it was inevitable. Kids grow up despite anything you can do about it. I just didn’t expect it to happen so fast.

My son will be coming home at Christmas this year (and I’m delighted), but my baby girl will not. It’s not all bad; the reason is a good one. She’s working on a hit off-broadway play – Fancy Nancy – as the stage manager and can’t get off. But still. She is the baby and the daughter.  She’s the one that helps me decorate the house and ensure the packages are under the tree and labeled.  She makes the dressing for the meal and sets the table (using the good china). She makes sure all of the Santas I’ve collected are properly displayed and goes shopping with me. It’s a girl thing. I’m sure my son rather would cut off some important appendage than go shopping with me.

She’s also one of my best friends. Now that is unexpected. I wasn’t as close with my mother as my sister was, so to have this relationship is so much fun. She is going to try to come in later, and that’s good because it will stretch the holiday over weeks rather than hours. She will still add to her Christmas Barbie collection (up to 24 now) and get a new ornament, just a little late. Maybe it’s a good thing because I can focus all my attention on one kid at the time.

I’ll make do, but now I definitely understand the look on Daddy’s face the first time he realized he was going to have to share time with me on Christmas with my in-laws.

Cross stitch stockings I made the kids – back when I had time for that kind of thing.

And my most constant Christmas companion – our 2nd Christmas.  (She wasn’t much fun at 10 days old)