Watching: My favorite version of A Christmas Carol, the 1951 movie with Alastair Sim, who in my opinion, is the quintessential Scrooge.

Listening: Lots of Christmas music. I hadn't realized how extensive our collection of Christmas CDs had grown until I started going through it. My favorites so far: David Lanz's Christmas Eve and Liz Story's The Gift. Tab's favorite Christmas album is December by George Winston. In fact, he will listen to that CD in the middle of a heat wave in July.

Cookie-Baking Obsession

Last year I went absolutely crazy with cookie baking. I started a few weeks early and made something like twelve to fifteen different kinds of cookies, meringues, and candy. I froze the early batches, and I filled up every container in the house. On Christmas Eve morning I assembled plate after plate of goodies, wrapped them in colorful cellophane, and tied them with bows. Then I sent Tab on delivery missions to dozens of neighbors and friends.

After that overkill experience, I vowed never again. In fact, this year, I didn't want to bake cookies at all. I'd pared down the list of recipients, and decided just to make loaves of my special coconut milk bread. I thought it would be a lot simpler to make loaves of bread than all those varieties of cookies. Tab, however, thought I should make chocolate chip cookies to give to some of the people on our list. "Everyone loves chocolate chip cookies," he reasoned.

Well, not everyone loves them as much as he does. (In fact, I'd be surprised if anyone loves chocolate chip cookies as much as Tab does.) Besides, I think it looks kind of miserly to give only one kind of cookie. So, despite my good intentions, I spent yesterday in the kitchen making toffee bars, "magic" cookie bars, pecan ball cookies, chocolate chip cookies, peanut blossom cookies, chocolate nut fudge, peanut butter fudge, and coconut bread. I also washed endless loads of dishes (we don't have a dishwasher), made the pistachio ambrosia and assembled the chicken strata casserole for Christmas Eve dinner, and prepared the dough for butter cookies, which the boys and I rolled out, decorated, and baked this morning.

I fell into bed last night physically and mentally exhausted, wondering why I put myself through this again. I just felt that if I were going to give out cookies this year, then I had to do it right. I have several family members who suffer from obsessive-compulsive disorder, a legacy from my father's side; I don't think I've escaped unscathed, either.

Then Tab and I got into a huge fight this morning because he didn't want to deliver the cookie plates I'd assembled. He and the boys were still decorating the tree as they had not finished the job last night. "I'll take them out tomorrow or the next day. What does it matter?" he asked.

"It matters to me!" I exclaimed. "I don't want them to go stale before we give them out. I didn't slave the entire day yesterday to give out stale cookies!"

"Well, no one asked you to spend the entire day baking," he retorted. "Chocolate chip cookies would have been fine!"

"OK, I'll deliver them myself!"

And I did, which actually turned out to be rather enjoyable. I rarely drive anywhere without children in the car these days, and I enjoyed tooling around this afternoon, listening to Christmas music on the radio, and being alone with my thoughts. And, of course, one of my thoughts was: "I'm making bread next year, and that's final!"

Tab and I made up quickly. We fight easily, but we also get over our arguments quickly, for the most part.

11:15 p.m. When I was little, I always liked Christmas Eve better than Christmas Day. My family had several beloved traditions associated with Christmas Eve: decorating the tree, Christmas caroling around the neighborhood, and listening to a scratchy, old recording of A Christmas Carol in the evening with the house lights off and the living room illuminated only by the blue lights of the Christmas tree.

I'd like to think my boys will have similar happy memories of Christmas Eve.

The boys were so excited this evening, I wondered if they would be able to sleep. After dinner, Tab gave them baths, then we allowed them to open one present each from under the tree from the gifts we had received from grandparents, godparents, and friends. Afterward, they helped put out cookies and milk for Santa ("and a carrot for Rudolph!"). Then I read them the Christmas story and "The Night Before Christmas," and we tucked them into bed.

Tab and I both reminded them once again to come to our room instead of going downstairs when they wake up tomorrow morning. I hope they remember! They are used to going downstairs when they wake up while we are still in bed, but we've stressed to them that we want to take pictures of them coming down the stairs on Christmas morning.

Despite their excitement, the boys have been sound asleep for hours now, so it is time to bring up the presents from the basement where they have been hidden in large trash bags behind the heater. Tab will carry them up, and I will arrange them by recipient. Then we're going to bed ourselves.

Despite my argument with Tab this morning, I'd have to say that I've enjoyed this Christmas Eve, too. This is the first year that the twins are really excited about Christmas, and it may be the last year that Daniel whole-heartedly believes in Santa Claus, so it has been a special Christmas Eve at our house.

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