I woke up to the chilly touch of the cold air on my skin yesterday morning. During this weather, we do not use air-conditioning but instead leave the fan on for some circulation. In addition, Frank cracks a window open to let in some cold air.It was a little colder than the usual yesterday and I hug my daughter closer to feel her warmth. I sleep for another 5 minutes.
When I was a kid, I looked forward to mornings like this, when you can blow ‘smoke’ through your mouth while standing outside waiting for the school bus. I loved wearing layers of clothing, jackets, sweaters, an extra shirt under my uniform… at home, I would walk/lounge/play around in my flannels, fluffy socks and/or bunny slippers (which was a gift I gave to my mom that I ended up using more). We’d make swissmiss hot chocolate and watch one of our VHS movies during the weekends. On Friday mornings, when we didn’t have church, my brothers and I would take walks with our parents to anywhere! And as Christmas eve approached, we’d try to peel off parts of the wrappers of the gifts under the tree, so we’d know what we were getting… I remember board games (particularly boggle and Pictionary) with loved ones and my mom’s turkey and ham for Christmas lunch.
It rained a little this morning and the grounds oozed of the winter season that I so love. However, it just seems a little bit depressing this year, as the people who I used to spend the most memorable winters with are now somewhere else. I was telling a friend that this season just feels different. There’s no warmth in our bellies and no excitement in the air…
Sure, I don’t like to promote the materialism that seems to engulf a lot of people during this holiday. But what I miss is the love from family that use to surround us like a thick cloud during this time. I guess I am just missing my mom, who never failed to show her love and my dad who was someone you could always turn to, even when you run out of gas in the middle of nowhere.
December time was always family time and I am hoping my Aria and my other future children would eventually feel the same way. Maybe if I try to be nice… Here’s to hoping I don’t become a momzilla.