
- 11:45pm on Christmas Eve, putting in the 417th screw & an empty whisky glass beside me.
As I said a wee bit ago, we do Santa in our home.
When I wrote that little manifesto, I held so much anticipation in my heart for the coming Christmas Eve.
That night, we sang by candlelight in church & ate spaghetti with family around the dining room table. Later than normal, Doug & I tucked a very sleepy Harrison into bed with Christmas jammies & The Polar Express. After changing into comfy clothes & pouring whisky & gingers, we sat down on the living room rug with Santa’s presents. We began with the most challenging piece, Harrison’s play kitchen. Over the next two hours, Doug & I laughed & talked about the past year. How much Harrison has grown, how he will love his new toys, how this season has been so amazing with his ability to participate. With Christmas carols playing in the background, I really got it.
Watching the presents come together, presents I bought for my little boy, carefully selecting what I thought he might like. I realized that these twelve hours between bedtime & Christmas morning were a parent’s best part of the year. The sacrifice & joy & complete infatuation with my child, all coming together on one day. When we laid down a little past midnight, I felt more excitement as a parent than as a child on Christmas, simply imagining his reaction at the gifts by the tree.
& Harrison’s smile on Christmas Day did not disappoint.
p.s. there are 360 days until harry is three at christmas & i cannot freakin’ wait.
















