Bellows - The Fun Book for Christmas

Other Books by Melina Gerosa BellowsThe Fun Book for CouplesWishThe Fun Book for MomsThe Fun Book for Girlfriends For Chris and Mackenzie The Fun Book for Christmas copyright 2009 by Melina Gerosa Bellows. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of reprints in the context of reviews. For information, write Andrews McMeel Publishing, LLC, an Andrews McMeel Universal company, 1130 Walnut Street, Kansas City, Missouri 64106. E-ISBN: 978-0-7407-9840-5 Library of Congress Control Number: 2009926280
Jacket design by Ren-Whei Harn
Cover illustration by Linda Ketelhut
Author photo by Karine Aigner www.andrewsmcmeel.com ATTENTION: SCHOOLS AND BUSINESSES
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The magic of Christmas.

In some ways, the joy of the season is a mirror, reflecting the essence of who we are each season. When I was little, the highlight of the year was always Christmas Eve. Wed go to my grandparents house for an Italian family free-for-all. One by one, each of us would sneak from the kids table until wed all wind up in the dining room with the adults, listening to them tell jokes and old family stories. After dinner, wed eat homemade biscotti, pizzelle, and struffoli. Several Sambucas later, an uncle would disappear from the table.

Soon Santa made an entrance to dole out the very toys we wanted. (How did he know?!) If Norman Rockwell had been Italian, he would have depicted the Gerosa holiday scene.

It was only years later that I learned my grandmother had to take a tranquilizer before we arrived. What was the most wonderful day the year for the thirteen grandchildren was a pressure-filled stress-fest for poor Lolee. Christmas does not come one size fits all. Over the years, holiday fun has shifted from getting presents to giving them.

In high school, shopping for the perfect gift for each friend and family member and wrapping each one like an art project provided hours of creative enjoyment. Later, in college, the highlight was coming home at the end of the semester and reconnecting with long-lost friends. Wed all congregate in the local bars as soon as possible to catch up, drink draft beer, and flirt. Even midnight mass was more for cute boy spotting than reveling in the birth of Christ. Living in New York in my twenties, Christmas was all about romance. No December was complete without the double date.

My best friend, Karen, and I would always finagle a night to get super spiffed up in a new outfit, go to a fancy hotel bar (with a fireplace), and, on the arms of some handsome gents, wander around enjoying the city decked out in its holiday finest. As I look back on all of those Christmases, its as if a cast of different characters played my part. All of them had the grandest time and appreciated the sights and delights of the season. I never understood how people could hate the holidays. Until the Christmas I found myself separated from my husband, I wished I could just fast-forward to the middle of January. Only then did realize how lucky Id been all those years.

Holidays simply magnify what youre already feeling. If youre sad, lonely, or sick, of course they are going to be all the more painful. Still, with two kids under five, I was determined not to let the doldrums ruin my childrens holiday. Even if we wouldnt be the perfect family reading Twas the Night Before Christmas in front of a cozy fire, I vowed to find some way to make this time special for them.

Sadly, I was several states away from the Gerosa Christmas Eve bash would have to find fun closer to home. Serendipitously, I got an invitation to the Christmas on the Potomac event at Gaylord National Resort, right outside Washington, D.C.

Among its attractions were an indoor snowfall, a sixty-foot-tall glass Christmas tree, and a water-and-light show. I packed the kids into the car and hit the gas. As we wandered around the decked-out atrium eating gingerbread cookies that we had decorated, part of me was grateful for a way to pass the afternoon. The other part, however, was feeling mighty sorry for myself. That year I got coal in my stocking. I desperately wanted to go home, but it was time for the dancing water and special effects show. I desperately wanted to go home, but it was time for the dancing water and special effects show.

Loud techno Christmas music rocked the house, and a fountain started shooting water up into the air, illuminated by different colored lights. The water squirted higher and higher and higher, until it was a breathtaking sixty feet up and then splashed down all around us. Two-year-old Mackenzie and four-year-old Chase gaped in wonder. Watching their joy ignited the light within me, and thats when saw it, right there on the faces of my soaking wet children. The spirit of Christmas! My kids were happy. And this was a sign that I would find my way back to that place, too.

It was the