Well mine didn't go as planned. Of all the days in the year when people get sick my boys did on Christmas day. Instead of happily preparing Christmas Eve dinner at home we were in a hospital bench waiting for our names to be called. Sasha woke up with a fever. He won't eat or drink his milk. He was just silent as he clings on to his dad's arms. We came home by 5pm just enough time for the hubby to roast the duck for 4 hours. Luckily my husband is a gourmet homecook and as expected his cooking totally knocked off my initial desire to eat outside. His Roast Duck was succulent and much better than the 5-star hotel quality I've had before. We had our Christmas Eve dinner so perfect that I was so confident that Christmas day itself would be like that too. I prayed that Sasha will be well and we can join my family to Christmas day lunch. After opening our presents we went to bed with glee but momentarily awoken by Sasha's burning skin into mine. The fever came back at 3am.
By 9 am Christmas day it was like nothing happened. The little fella woke up with his usual energy and excitement. He poked me in the face like telling me "mom wake up! Merry Christmas! Or perhaps Mom can't you smell? It's time for nappy change or you will be having breakfast with it!" Lol. We sipped hot chocolate and ate chocolate brioche in bed. I was in cloud nine. I still remember my Christmas days when I was a child. Mom and dad really did a great job raising us. We had happy , healthy and normal childhood that I would like to pass to my child/children. I always have high hopes and high expectations on holidays like this especially Christmas. I automatically assume my husband wouldn't mind us joing my cousins for Christmas lunch since Sasha seemed well, active and no fever. But despite my efforts to convince him he still continued with his hard cold NO. Confused and hurt I tried to reason out over and over until all the energy and strength I could muster puffed like smoke. I couldn't understand him and he couldn't understand why it's so important to me. So I let go. I put up my moping-face while Sasha looked at his parents with puzzled eyes. It was the first time in our married life that I feel so angry that I feel so weak to even fight. I just took my colored pens and pastel and draw my heart out in white paper, while the boys took their afternoon nap, on a Christmas day. How sad, I told myself.
But before the sun sets on a cold Christmas afternoon, the husband finally put on his happy face and made me late lunch. I couldn't resist. There's no point crying and fighting about spilled milk. My family already were enjoying the party--- without us. We ate and made up. The hurt somehow subsided. Welcome to MarriageVille it's not always roses and chocolates.
Then yesterday we finally able to get out and be human. Perfect time for Sasha's baby dedication. It was a bit chaotic driving to Jebel Ali with the one year old crying nonstop. Again, I was at the verge of turning into one of Khaleesi's dragons. I was losing my patience. And as much as I wanted for us to come on time, again 15 minutes late. I was just wishing that the ground will open up and eat me.
God, being his mysterious and Divine-self as always hit me hardcore with the day's preach. It dawned on me that I was the one making my own life as difficult as it shouldn't be. My response was wrong. My method was incorrect. It's not easy being a Christian. Only by God's grace we can act accordingly. He got his reasons why He didn't let us go out on Christmas. He was teaching me something about my character. He made me took a long look on the real meaning of Christmas. To ponder deeply on the birth of our Savior and it's not all about food and receiving presents. These worldly stuff were nonsense. Celebrating the birth of Christ with your family with or without the glamour and glitz is what matters most. I was pushing my husband away for what? So I can party, drink and be merry instead of just cozying up with them , (nurturing their sore throat and icky cough) in our home telling stories about the real meaning of Christmas. I want Sasha to know that because my parents told me growing up. It's my responsibility. I realized as well that I cannot force people to change. Only God can change people. Only God can touch their hearts like how he touched mine five years ago. I owe him everything I have now. My life was changed and I cannot impose the same faith I have without God's help, without my own behavior, letting my life to speak for itself.
It's time to change expectations and be more flexible. I used to be spontaneous. I don't want to be an old fart not daring enough to change lanes when needed. I should learn to simmer off steam quickly when I don't get what I want. Yes, I am stubborn, strong-willed, always willing to die-hard trying to get what I want when I want it. And not all people can understand that, but Now, hearing His truth, I am much more willing to always take the best and sometimes uncomfortable high road.
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