‘Twas a week after Christmas and all through this zoo; it looks like a hurricane has been passing through.

Bits of bright wrapping, the holiday kind; in dark dusty corners I continue to find.

Tags, fancy ribbons, paper, a bow; how it can still be around, I don’t know.

Bedrooms in shambles, the kitchen a wreck; with toys, games and doo-dads, I’m up to my neck.

The kids, so excited to be on vacation, have all but forgotten their early elation.

Candy canes, chocolate, cookies galore; the indulgence of treats only makes them want more.

Way too much sugar – they’re bouncing off walls; my tolerance growing ever so small.

Bickering, shouting, fighting and crying; arguing, pouting, incessantly whining.

It’s MY TURN, they say, again and again. I swear out of the window that computer I’ll send.

I had prepared projects, just like a good mother; but they seemed to prefer just to bother each other.

The holidays can be so insanely exhausting; to plan all that magic and do all that shopping.

Cards to address and presents to wrap; goodies to bake and no time left to nap.

And now that it’s over, “Retain order!” I say; but nobody wants to help put things away.

It’s easy to wonder, as I sometimes do; did the kids have the fun that I wanted them to?

With everything busy, it’s not easy to see. Was Christmas all that they hoped it would be?

I got my answer at the end of the year. The kids spoke the words I was hoping to hear.

They said things they don’t always say to their mother; but I heard loud and clear as they spoke to another.

“This Christmas was awesome, everything great! We loved every one of the treats mom did make.”

“Our presents are cool, the tree second to none; to be home from school for so long was so fun!”

“Santa, the reindeer and our favorite, the elf; who sat there so patiently up on that shelf . . .”

“. . . everything magical, perfect and bright! The morning of Christmas was truly a sight!”

They forgot the craziness, focused on good; remembered the best, like all children should.

I was quite satisfied, no need to pretend; it was worth all the work that it took, in the end.

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