Bleary and Bright

There's nothing quite like that stingy-eyed weariness all parents of young children have on Christmas morning. Your eyes burn and water; your head feels strangely hollow - yet heavy; you seem to be both moving and hearing everything in slow-motion. At least it helps the crazy reactions your children have to some gifts seem like a funny dream, when in reality they might be a tad frightening.

See what I mean?

(Whose brilliant idea was that?)

If you are, perhaps, one of those super-human-mommy types that have all your wrapping (let alone your shopping) done the day after Thanksgiving, you will never know the joy of a slap-happy Christmas morning. (Actually I choose to believe you are a mythical creature anyway. It makes me feel better about my own last minute dashes to the store in search of. . . well, everything that needs to go under the tree.) I know the bleary-eyed feeling all too well - no matter how hard I try, we seem to end up going to bed right before the kids start stirring.

Our hair looks absurdly similar, I'm sure. HOWEVER, you will find no pictures of mine.

Likewise, if you aren't nodding off through the carnage of the Christmas Wrap you just expertly finished being shredded to bits you will in no way enjoy the late afternoon Christmas Nap the way you should. It happens right after the breakfast cleanup has been finished, you've bid all visiting family good-bye, and tucked the children in front of the television with game controllers in their sweet little hands. (Game timers don't exist on Christmas, at least not until you've racked up an hour or two of pillow time.)

If you ask yourself every other day of the year WHY Santa brings video games, all you'll have to do is remember the blissful Christmas afternoon nap and it will all become clear.

If you're lucky you'll have a perfect little baby to cuddle up with too.

Later you can answer the age-old question: Which is funnier, the cat hopped up on kitty-weed or the dog trying in vain to get the stuffed antlers off her head? Or maybe go for a Christmas-light drive. Whatever ends up happening, it will all seem like a blur after you finally have your own well-deserved visions of sugar plums dancing in your head.