Peter and I spent the previous night talking about Christmas past, and future. This time around we were particualary excited, because River is so much older in every aspect. She understand the concept a little more. We spent the night baking homemade cookies, and writing Santa a special letter. River hasn’t mastered the writing thing yet, but her YOU which looks like UOY is pretty darn cute on paper.
River woke up at 8 am, and tiredly strolled in our room and asked for her usual order of a sippy of milk and a cuddle under my arm. Christmas this year wasn’t white, but breezy and sunny, and beautiful. After finishing her milk, with her forehead slightly touching my lips, and her nose obviously avoiding my morning breath, River asked if it was “morning time?” It was, and it couldn’t come soon enough. I found myself just as excited as she. To my surprise, as soon as I said yes, it was in fact morning, Peter hopped out of his deep sleep, threw on his glasses, and grabbed his phone. I stood in utter amazement at him. He’s what I would like to call the teeter totter of Christmas; not usually super duper into it; the gifting portion of the holiday surpasses him. Despite that, every year, his gifting excitement grows a little more.
River and I made our way slowly through our dimly lit hallways, passing room by room, and flicking lights on one by one. As we slowly curved around the corner that led to our living room that was home to our tree, we saw that Santa did in fact show up!
I’m not sure what it was. In between watching River unwrap gift by gift, and seeing her tackle all the useless paper-y mess, or watching Peter unwrap carefully and try on every clothing item soon after, but I was in heaven. In the midst of it all, I somehow forgot that my present is still in the UK, being handled by someone who isn’t quite sure of it’s destination and has no idea that there was a not-so patiently waiting woman in the U.S counting on him to get it together. It’s true, what the say about being a parent, a wife, and giving and all, it’s much more gratifying. Whatever selfish sadness I had held Christmas Eve about my special present was wrapped up, thrown away, and forgotten like the wrapping paper we used. It was no longer there.
Tomorrow we are off to see family in Maryland, and celebrate Christmas for a third time. Peter is off for an entire week, and I think it’s fair cause to celebrate, don’t you?
Merry Christmas! If you celebrated, even if you didn’t, I hope your day was full of family, friends, and love.