So Christmas 2012 is almost over. As is almost always the case on Christmas night, I feel a little let down. There's such a buildup to Christmas, and it's over so fast. But it was a very nice one. We had a great day, and gave the kids more presents than we usually do---we are usually very restrained in that, but I decided this year to put more focus on getting them, especially the boys, things they wanted and needed. It was fun. We had a huge amount of special food, a great visit last night with our dear friends for Christmas eve, Janey and I had as much Christmas music all year as can be imagined, and overall, it was a very good Christmas.
Still, with all this being said, there is sadness for me at Christmas. I don't think it will ever totally go away. Janey has no real awareness of the holiday traditions. She doesn't get Santa, she doesn't have any curiousity or interest in her presents, she can't count the days until Christmas, she isn't sad it's over because in most ways she didn't really understand it was here. She was manic in the night, laughing hysterically for hours, probably because we weren't careful and forgot and let her have lots of chocolate milk, and chocolate and other caffeine is the one solid food connection I've ever found with her---it makes her crazy way out of proportion. She cried at points today. We were all exhausted by afternoon, but we couldn't nap, because she had to be watched. She had pullup issues. She was, basically, herself. And she always will be. She is delightful, sweet, interesting, but she is also autistic and intellectually disabled. She is never going to get Christmas the way I dream of. Like so many things, it's my dream, not hers. It's my sadness, not hers. But my latest way of thinking is to admit the sadness, and try to move on from it. It makes me sad that she doesn't understand Christmas. It makes me very sad. But Christmas isn't her getting it. Christmas is, in the words of the Grinch, a little bit more.