Here Comes Santa…Who?

You are thirteen months old now and you were only one month old that first Christmas.  So this was officially your second Christmas.  And, bless your heart, you put up with the insanity of it all both times…while periodically taking naps.  We could all learn a thing or two from watching you.

So, year one…


It was all about the lights.  There is something mesmerizing about those little twinkling things.

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And you let us dress you in silly (cute though) Christmas duds.  Truly, as long as you could eat and sleep, you didn’t care.  So, the adults relaxed along with you.  We each took turns admiring the lights with you and you set the tempo of the day for us.  We took heed and just went with the flow.

You were, very clearly, the best present for all of us grownups.

And now it’s been a year and you may still be teaching the grownups the importance of Christmas.

This year, you got to stay in your jammies because they won’t fit in another month or so and the theme was right.  Still some would say that you kind of blended in with the wrapping paper.  Whatever, you didn’t care.


 And the hat?  Well, that was a silly grownup thing but you think all hats are a little unnecessary.  This one was no exception.  It was discarded in seconds.

So the presents were piled high, under and around the tree.  Now this was cool. You thought they were put there as an obstacle course for you and you were ready for the challenge.

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But, drat! Mom, stopped you just as you prepared to master that final assent.

And look at you.  You do blend in with the wrapping paper. 🙂

So we give you boxes that you can “unwrap” and you’re confused.  “See, you can rip the paper.  Go ahead, rip it off.”

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Well, there you were pointing to the pretty pictures on the paper and there we were ripping it and I imagine that you were thinking about all other paper that you tried to rip this past year only to be told “No, don’t rip”.

Now, there we were saying, “go ahead, rip.”

Adults are so confusing.  I know.


Then the pretty paper was gone.  The box was gone.  And all you were left with was the “educational” toy.  You put one or two in your mouth to see if they at least tasted good                 and they didn’t, so you crawled away.

 After, what must have seemed like hours, this thing we call gift giving had finally come to an end.  The last of the pretty paper had been ripped clean away.  The cool big boxes had been crushed and hauled away and your new toys were…somewhere.

You didn’t really care. You were exhausted.  Mommy layed down on the floor.  She must have been exhausted too.

You decided that she needed a love.

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and then, whoops, in comes daddy, ready to play, and you think, “Here comes Santa…who?”

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Thank you, once again, little man, for teaching us the real meaning of Christmas.

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