Anticipation

This is the Week of Anticipation. It's seen in every child as they peer through the window at the snow-crested trees, the lights and decorations draping the tree in the living room, the bells ringing on maybe sleighs drawn by horses, adorned with bells and red leather reigns. You can feel the eagerness that sets everyone on the edge of their seats with expectations of dreams and wishes coming true! It is the underlying and tangible Hope of aspirations; the optimism of expectation!

You remember keenly being that child. All good things were coming your way just because it was Christmas! Christmas meant birth. It was a New Beginning topped by a fresh new year so the slate was entirely clean, ready for your footprint. It was perfect bliss! I loved the feeling of Christmas – all the excitement, the delight, the smiles, the exhilaration!

I felt it again driving home Friday night – first when I passed a horse drawn carriage elegantly moving along Lincoln towards Riverfront Park – beautiful, graceful horses slowly dancing down the street. Then I passed a truck carrying a Santa sleigh, totally engulfed in twinkling red and white lights, ready to be the carrier for the Great Saint Nicholas himself! You could taste the thrill in the air, the crispiness of the night, the anticipation of Santa, of holidays, of Christmas, of magic!

Even as an adult, I am transported to a higher version of myself. I feel an expectation within me that is just bursting; I drag all my Christmas sweaters out of storage and eagerly go through each one; which to wear today; which to wear tomorrow. I gather all my dangly, sparkly earrings that are snow flakes, crystal icicles, blinking reindeers, laughing Santas. What to wear first!

This is the Week of Anticipation!

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All I Want For Christmas Is . . .

I know you've been there. It's December what's-it and your spouse asks you what you want for Christmas. Suddenly your mind is blank. Why didn't you come to me and ask that very question back in February when I found the pretty little red sweater I have been dying for, on SALE??? Huh? Where were you then? Or when I said to myself, it would really be nice to have a [fill in the blank]. I don't know why I don't write this stuff down. And I don't want much. A memory card for my digital camera is only about $12. But I can't remember to think about it in December. I have holes in my brain. All the little things I have wished for, drooled over, wanted, desired, coveted – they are all out there somewhere, floating around in the ozone, having entered my brain in some other month than December and filtered out my brain through the holes.

So I'm making a list and checking it twice and I have been good all year, yes I have been nice!

My list:

Bubble bath and the uninterrupted hour to soak, read a book, listen to Il Divo on my Bose, and be surrounded by the scent of my almond candles. (Read the little hints: book, CD of Il Divo, Bose radio (kinda spendy but I'm worth it), aromatic candles.)

Two hours of time-out for my significant other to keep his hands off the remote control (think FREE gift)

Personal body massage (this has benefits that carry over to the masseuse if he happens to be my significant other).

Breakfast totally made by my significant other who requests that I simply sit back in a lounge chair and enjoy my coffee that he poured for me. This includes kitchen clean up.

Boxed set of "Sex and the City"

Russell Stover Cherry Cordials

O! A bottle of Butterscotch Schnapps. A big, big bottle. Maybe a case.

A year's worth of Sodoku puzzles.

A kitten (and you will take care of the litter box)

A weekend at "Run of the River" in Leavenworth (ok, that's half a Bose radio)

Cuddle time every night watching chick flicks

See. I just have to remember to carry my list with me. Or you can carry it with you. That's probably better. I can't be trusted to remember where I put my list and maybe I changed purses half-way through the year and the list got trapped in one of those little pockets and I didn't see it so I didn't transfer it to my new purse and tossed it into the back of the closet never to be seen again for another three years. . . uh, you take the list.

Notebook for my list

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