The Monday after Thanksgiving, with gravy still percolating as a strong personal perfume, I tossed Stewie into the blue and gray shopping cart at my local Super Center. The death grip on his school bus and fire truck did not relinquish, as I began to whisper of the magic he was about to witness.  Those ice blue eyes were locked saucer-like to mine. Obliviously curious. His lips tense and visibly dry, chapped from the newfound chill in the air.

Pushing passed the automatic doors, my spirit fingers busily illustrate the magnitude of wonder ahead, and I hardly noticed the smiley face sticker I slapped on my chest. Missing nothing, Stewie lurched forward with the same enthusiasm yelling “Circle, circle…uh, not octagon.”

Wheels pulling left and the disappointment of no octagon overcasting the impending cheer, I veered to a halt next to the five foot pallet of Frenchs Fried Onions, and took matters into my own hands. Such fair weathered mood changes are not permitted in this happy land of all things tacky.  It is my December happy place and I know, deep down, it is right up Stewie’s alley too. Determined, my hands found their way either side of his chubby cheeks, finger tips grazing the folded gray hat on his forehead, my thumbs tracing, calming his jawline.

Amazing how two years in, they are still so small.

Middle of the aisle.  Looking into his little, cherub face, the realization washed over me.  Numbing my toes and sweeping feeling from my legs, I realized this is it.  This will be the last time I witness this first.  The first time he absorbs and remembers the spirit of Christmas.  For he, is my last.

I have been savoring these moments since his birth.  The beautiful baby firsts. Not their accomplishments in sports or school, just the amazing natural milestones of wonder, curiosity, determination, hope and even fear that happens, not because there is an end goal, but because they are human.  And we are amazing creatures.

Still caressing his cheek, Stewie’s hand gently grasps my wrist and whispered,  “Momma?My out of body fog dissolved, “Momma? MOM! What, is, THAT?” His bold voice filled the warehouse and his pointer zoomed to a lighted, talking Chase is on the Case Paw Patrol Ornament perched atop the onions.

This gaudy piece of holiday snapped me back into Go Mode. I snatched it up and reverently explained,  “And that, my dear, is what I am talking about!”

Striding to the back of store, hand blinders up and the ornament distracting the little man, I paused outside the land of glow. Queried his readiness and spun the cart around.  Being so overcome by the scene, he dropped his school bus and fire truck and just delighted, “Lights! MOMMA! OH LIGHTS! SO pretty!”

His audible gasps, danced through the air lighting smiles and childish giggles to all adults nearby. We strolled up and down the aisles pushing every snow globe, train, home projector, Santa, and nativity button bedazzled with lights, glitter and noise.  And though it may not be the meaning of the season, the sheer beauty of innocence escaping his childish aura with each furrowed brow or eye popping inhalation, reaffirmed its meaning in my life.

With the final turn away from the Griswold glow, he began clapping wildly, begging for another go. I declined his request, having indulged twice.  However, before the shake of my head was complete, my sweet cherub transformed into a hellacious fallen angel screaming, kicking, grabbing displays. And with one swift analysis of my being, he proceeded with his ultimate act of humiliation. His sausage fingers bolted to the happy face sticker on my chest, ripped it from my vest, crumbled it slowly, staring daringly into my soul, and threw its remains to the floor.

Another first!

Filled with holiday spirit… smiling, was the only option, further enraging Lucifer.  I must have been in shock for laughter chortled from me, as I swiveled the cart toward the exit. I watched the same people we once brought childlike smiles to, shake their head in disbelief.  I smiled and quietly nodded saying “I said no” and the understanding smiles returned.

And for the first time, it didn’t bother me.  It was the best trip to Walmart I have ever had.