MARY Christmas

Like many people, I LOVE Christmas.
It has always had a special place in my hart (or do you guys prefer heart?).
Growing up we would listen to Christmas music non-stop form Thanksgiving to Dec 26th.
Lifetime, claymation and ABC movies were regulars on t.v.
I remember being really little, and my dad going through the t.v. guide and recording Christmas cartoons for me.
And as I got older and went off to college, my mom would DVR all those cheesy lifetime movies that we loved, and during Christmas break all we would do is watch them.

Christmas meant lots and lots of baking, food, sweets and family.
It meant endless hours of playing.
Gifts. Decorations. Parties. No school. Excitement. Stories. Love.

I could go on and on about all the things I love about Christmas. And how it was special to me growing up.
But I want to talk about something specific today.


Christmas is really all about ME.


Okay, not really. More like Jesus Christ. BUT, growing up I felt so entitled to this holiday because of my name. I felt like I truly loved it more (and still do really...) than other people, purely because my name is Mary.

The man responsible for my name. Sorry for the blurry picture. He is pretending to rock Sariah. 

I mean really, Mary the mother of Jesus- is an AMAZING women. And I am named after her (ok, no- but, we share the same name). I remember as a little kid being OFFENDED when I would watch live nativities and I had not been asked to play the role of Mary. WHAT DO THEY THINK THEY WERE DOING? Not having me, MARY play MARY. I would think, "What? They asked HER to play Mary? She doesn't even look like a Mary." I was so offended.
And you know what? I never was asked to play Mary. Ever.
Plus, people say Mary Merry Christmas. So, my name is pretty important to this Holiday.

Not Jesus. But still an ADORABLE baby.

 

Then, I got married.
Now, I am not sure how many of you realize this...but, my husband's name is Joseph.
Yep.
We are, Mary & Joseph.
My sisters really wanted Sariah to be a boy. So that Mary and Joseph could have a little Jesus child.
But either way, it still stands.
I rock this Holiday.
So anyone out there who wants to challenge me, all I say is this:

You better wear your big girl pants.

Probably my favorite Christmas picture ever.