There she is...

She's 23, self-consumed. Holidays. Two hours to get ready. Loads of makeup, and fancy jewelry. Boyfriend picks her up, they go Christmas-party hopping. She spends the evening flirting with him, making sure he notices her. Hopes for an engagement ring. Drops hints. Flirts more. Drinks a bit. Flirts more. Gets more agressive with the hints.

...

She's 25, exhilarated. A college-student finishing up her finals for her first full semester back in school. Realizing the joy of Christmas break and nowhere to be tomorrow, she showers, dresses, gets ready for the Christmas party. Her husband asks her what she's wearing and she replies a black turtleneck and jeans. He passes her in the bathroom and backs up, does a double take. Smiles. Checks her out. She is secretly pleased. Tonight will be a great night.

...

She's 26, tired. Finished up finals for college, and her clinical work, and her GRE test for Grad school, and applied for a spring practicum. On top of it all, she has pneumonia, is on two antibiotics. She's officially become an adult, so she's pulled through, managed. Christmas parties are not an option, but she sends her husband off on his merry way alone, telling him to have a good time. She'll stay home and watch a movie. But, to boot: food smells make her throw up, she has a residual headache, and can't sleep. She doesn't know it yet, but she's pregnant.

...

She's 28, wishing. For another baby, for a healthy Christmas, for diamond earrings. She's thankful to be wearing her old jeans again but wouldn't mind them not fitting if it meant she was pregnant. So, she eats a cookie, packs up her daughter, whips up a dessert, and heads to a Christmas party. Her hubby smiles at her, helps her pack the car. It's back home by 8:30pm so she doesn't miss her daughter's bedtime. But, secretly, she wouldn't mind going to bed then, either.

...

She's 29, sick. Stomach bug, throwing up, two different times during the holidays. Despite this, nothing fits. She feels huge. And, 16 weeks pregnant doesn't seem like enough baby to explain the tight pants. This is ridiculous. She throws on a tunic, long enough to cover the fact that her pants can't button, and heads to a Christmas party. Some things look good, but most things smell bad, so no holiday eating. Then it's home by 9pm for her bedtime.

...

She's 31, thankful, busy, tired. All new pants this year because baby #2 has eradicated the waistline (and hipswaistthighs). Husband is downstairs with the kids, she is getting ready. Throwing on a bit of bronzer and eyeliner, she finishes up with good earrings. Hubby sticks his head in the doorway and smiles. Checks her out. Gives her thelook. She is secretly pleased. Packs up h'ors d'oeuvre. Packs up kids. Packs up car. Packs up gear. Husband holds her hand in van. Head to party. Great time. Forget bedtimes. Forget tired. Stays at party, with kids, and enjoys holidays.

There she is.