Saturday, December 24, 2011

T-1 (6 hours)

We took the children to see the matinee Arthur Christmas, today. I think my new favorite Santa line of all time is, "On Dasher, on Dancer, on Prancer and Vixen and ... I forget your name ... Bambi? and you two, with the white ears! Go!"


As is often the case with children's movies these days, Charlie and I were in stitches at some of the lines while the kids looked at us and asked, "Why is that so funny?"

We'd had all kinds of grandiose plans to spend the afternoon baking and delivering gingerbread cookies, Christmas caroling at a few neighbor's homes and attending a candlelight Christmas Eve service this evening. But it was chilly outside and memories of two years ago when Mommy and Daddy had high expectations on children and squeezed too many activities in to a short span of time and Santa nearly turned his sleigh around came flooding back to me.

This is supposed to be a wonderful, relaxing time.

Let's strive to keep expectations low.



So instead of venturing out, we returned home from the movie, lit a roaring fire and settled in with a game of Candy Land. The kids decorated their gingerbread cookies and after snacking on fruits and various appetizers throughout the day, had a dinner of bananas before they went to bed.

I love this picture of Henry. Albeit poor quality, he's got a look that screams, "It's Christmas Eve and I'm eating a banana. Where's my Honey Baked Ham and English Crackers?!"


Everyone received new pajamas ...


And heard "'Twas the Night Before Christmas."


(The same copy that Charlie and I have been reading since 1997).


They put out their potatoes and apples, as Santa had instructed...


And then they pretended to go to sleep. After pleading to sleep in the living room, Carolyn wanted to tie one end of a string to her cookie and the other end to her finger so when Santa picked it up to take a bite, she'd wake up. I asked what she'd do if she actually SAW Santa and as she thought about it, she decided that she'd scream. So she then asked that I please put a letter on her door that reads, "Santa, although I told you I wanted to give you a hug PLEASE do not come in my room. Love, Gracie."

An hour after tucking the children in to bed, William nonchalantly wandered out of his room, looked around and declared that he needed to use the bathroom. Which he did. But I suspect that he suspects that something suspicious is going on. When I just went in to check on him, he is tossing and turning, unable to sleep. He asked if I had some sleeping pills or something I could give him because he's just SO EXCITED.

Oh, I remember the feeling well.

There's nothing like it in the world.