Christmas day doesn't seem as appropriate a day as New Years day to christen a new blog, but the mood has struck and I have a few minutes of downtime between phases of The Landrieu Christmas Chaos.

Until my adolecent onset of general strife and malaise (that's normal, right? at least for the oldest child??), I LOVED Christmas and everything that came with it. My family was never well-off, but as kids we couldn't have known. Our Christmases were always filled with warm aromas, new pjs, handmade stockings, Christmas outfits and a tree guarding an abundent pile of gifts. My fifth Christmas, however, the big gift could not fit under the tree. A few days before Christmas, my father began building a structure in our small backyard. It was what we belived to be a small shed. Christmas Eve when we went to sleep, it was nothing but oddly shaped frame in the backyard. In the middle of the night, I woke to sudden construction noises in the back yard. Since it was so late, and I was SURE my parents were sleeping one room over in the very dark house, I hid under the covers and willed myself to sleep. Early the next morning, my mother woke Patrick and I with something along the lines of: "Come see what Santa left in the backyard for you two. And the elves left gifts out there, too!"

We bundled up in our little wool coats over our footed pjs and headed outside where an amazing clubhouse, complete with two floors, a rope ladder, a stationary ladder a bucket on a pully AND a fireman's pole. The second story was as tall as the roof of the house and Patrick and I quickly scampered up to find giant Rudman's bags (the gift shop at which my Aunt Susan worked - we were told the elves made a pit stop at Rudman's before heading to our house to build the club house) filled with all kind of kid junk (peel off fingernail polish, play makeup, rhinestone jewlery, chinese yoyos ... toy cars, water games, bubble bath). The pictures from that day are numerous and they show a very young family.

I like to look at those photos and imagine all that is to come - not just the happy, but also the rough spots. Those two kids, wide-eyed, grinning ear to ear - and my parents, about 26/27 at the time ... we've all learned so much, but we've very much remained the same.

Happy Holiday, friends.