Christmas

My memories of Chrismas are from age 8 and up. I really don't remember being a toddler or preschooler on the holidays, even though I have a lot of memories from this age. So I never really know what to expect on the holidays with little kids of my own.

Skip the next few sections if traditional, domestic bliss bothers you.

I remember waking up early on Christmas morning and kneeling - no, lying - down at the top of the stairs so that I could peek and see what Santa had brought. No matter what it looked like downstairs, it was always glorious and festive and the best thing in the world. I loved Christmas.

We would tear open presents before eating breakfast. Then we would leave the paper mess in the middle of the floor and eat pancakes or waffles, famished. Everyone in the family loved Christmas; I think that is what made it so great.

My mom would play the piano and we'd sing Christmas carols, even though she was the only one who could really sing. My dad would read the Christmas story from the Bible. My sister and brother would come home from college and stay for the day, bringing me huge Bert and Ernie cookies or an oversized stuffed animal or something along those lines. My mom would cook a huge, delicious feast while the rest of us sacked out on the couch, watched TV, and played board games all day. I loved everyone being there together.

* * *

Our Christmas this year was different in so many ways. We had to wake Charlie up at 8:30 so that we could open presents together before Will's first nap. He came down the steps sleepy and out of it. He was happy to see his new bike, but also a little clingy and uncertain.

Charlie quickly got into the spirit of tearing open presents, and often said, "is that one mine? is this one mine? is it mine? is it? is it?" And I cringed just a tiny bit because I hate the idea of Christmas being all commercial and raising a kid who just expects stuff. So we gently reminded him that other people have turns, and that we can stop and slow down to enjoy the present most recently received.

There was no Christmas story - the boys are too young and I don't know where to begin.

My family is all out-of-state, so that made me a little sad. No Scrabble or Monopoly or Balderdash. (Just wait until the boys are old enough. I am totally raising them to be game guys. Take that, hubby.)

But still, it was a happy day. The four of us were all together, there was snow on the ground outside and it was peaceful and warm inside, we all had days off and time to cuddle and do nothing. And, Jerry was so thoughtful - he got me my first pair of sexy pajamas, that both revealed the lovelies while concealing the mom belly. I felt spoiled, but in a good way.

And then Charlie started acting extremely sassy, apparently thinking that Christmas means the children are kings for a day. And with all the excitement and overstimulation, Will would not go down for his second nap, so he fussed and arched his back, and it took forever to get him down.

Then we made a huge dinner (my part: homemade croutons. Hubby's: everything else. Hey, I was in charge of naps.)

All in all, a wonderful day.