The Holidays went by in one beautiful blur. It gets more fun each year. I feel like the kids were at the perfect ages this year. At 2, 5 and 8, we had the perfect mix of sheer excitement and sheer terror (June.)
Reese and James reveled in everything/anything Christmas; the baking, the presents, visiting with family, the songs, the snow, the hot chocolate, the movies, Santa, they couldn’t get enough of it. We waited 1.5 hours to sit on Santa’s lap at our town’s Christmas celebration only to learn that Santa is June’s one true nightmare. On Christmas morning, we had to carry her, kicking and screaming, downstairs because she was sure Santa was down there. To this day, when a car comes down the driveway or someone knocks at our door, June runs to me screaming, “It’s Santa!”
Santa brought a street hockey set, an aircraft carrier set, countless books, Lego sets, a tea set, pajamas, candy, underwear and socks. The kids stayed in their rooms until 7:30 as instructed by me. I will say that me telling my kids they can’t wake us until 7:30 is the most hypocritical thing I have ever done in my life. As a kid, and admittedly, until I was way too old, I would wake insanely early on Christmas morning (like 3 AM.) I would charge into my parents room where they would beg me to come back at 6. As a compromise, I would go to my room, stare at my clock for two hours and then go back to their room at 5. A true assassin of holiday fun and relaxation. It got so bad that on Christmas Eve my Dad used to set all the clocks in our house back by hours in the hopes of stalling me.
Each year it gets a little better and I understand now why people say Christmas as a parent is just as fun as Christmas as a kid. It might be even better.