Two Days Til Christmas
Holding my people close, moving through tenderness, and letting gratitude + Sage lead the way
I ended the night rolled up in my toddler’s bed, exchanging “I love yous” back and forth until we were both giggling ourselves into sleepy land. It was the kind of bliss that feels almost unreal. So simple, safe, sweet.
Last night carried me into the strangest dream. I was in pre-op, preparing for some kind of surgery on my ear or the left side of my head. Papers were being handed to me for general anesthesia when suddenly the plan changed. They told me they were going to implant a chip instead, something called prodigy, meant to shut off the front part of my brain. I remember loudly saying, “I’m not going to do it.” That was the moment I woke up. It felt vivid and unsettling. I’m not sure what it means, or if it means anything at all. I woke up around four in the morning with a headache, unsure if the two were connected, but my body definitely remembered the dream.
This morning began with my Mom sharing a tragic story about a friend’s grandchildren. It settled heavy in my chest and left a scar of sadness on my heart. I’ve been holding them in prayer all day.
The afternoon carried a different kind of intensity. Sage and I hopped in the car for a last-minute shopping run. We needed wrapping paper, bows, and a few random things for the house. As we drove, he confidently told me where he wanted to go next, naming stores like he had the whole route mapped out in his head. Ironically, every place he requested was exactly where I needed to be. I couldn’t help but smile at that. Following his lead felt right. I also pushed myself through a crushing cardio workout, the kind that leaves you buzzing with desire to throw a postpartum body party (which I did in my bathroom afterwards).
It felt good to move that energy through me, to sweat it out and remind myself that I’m still super powerful. And then there was Sage again, pulling me back into the present moment by moment. He spots numbers everywhere we go. On street signs. On calendars. Even on a mural in the coffee shop that looked like nothing more than colors tangled together to me. He saw it immediately. Jumbled digits hiding in plain sight. His mind finding patterns where mine only sees blur. This kid is truly so amazing.
After my shower, I came downstairs to the smell of my husband’s chili simmering away, warm and comforting in the way only a home-cooked meal can be. We ate together, wrapped up the day, and let the evening soften around us. Days like this make me cling a little tighter to my sweet family. They remind me how fragile and precious it all is. How quickly moments pass. How much love lives in the ordinary. We’re counting down the days to Christmas now, and it’s hard to believe we’re just two days away. The house feels fuller. Time feels faster. And my heart feels especially aware of how much I want to be right here for all of it. Tonight, I’m holding my people close, soaking in these last moments of the season, and letting gratitude lead the way.