It’s beginning to not look much like Christmas
It’s Christmas morning and all over the world pajamed kids are clawing at shiny ribbons, their hearts thumping with anticipation. Parents are snapping pictures, in love with their children’s happiness.
In our little house at 6512 feet, Col has just put a cloth diaper on his stuffed dog and Rose is trailing him, munching on something she found in her room. Dan is brewing coffee.
Even though we had a Christmas Eve Dinner last night–elk stew, baguettes and chocolate ice cream–the kids don’t know that today is Christmas. And I sort of love that. As I explained in a previous post, this is our first Christmas and we’ve done it all wrong.
But as my friend Diane told me recently, it’s so cool that we can all make our own family holiday traditions. Our kids are still riding in the backseat of their own lives, relying on us parents to steer, and each family’s drive looks different.
The kids opened their last gift sometime on December 23rd (the Hess race car from Grampa Starks!) in the same fashion that they’ve opened all their gifts: Packages arrive in the mail, get placed under the tree and then get opened ten two minutes later. I know this is crazy, no “magic” of a Christmas morning, no watching the delight on children’s faces as they sit for hours anchored like a boat in a swell of ribbons and wrappings.
But in a way it feels more sane, giving the kids time to absorb each gift, to test drive and remember it, to write a thank you card before the next wave hits.
In the end, we do what feels right for our family, each of us, and that’s all that matters.
Now I will go drink my coffee and make sure the unidentified things Rose is eating are actually food.
And I will be thinking of your children and hoping they are sitting in their sea of lovely, new things–or whatever your tradition calls for–with a big, big smile.