But I'd be so remiss if I didn't say a few things about the magic of the season, even if I'm relating them after the fact while sitting on the couch with a body full of oh-so delightful morning sickness that actually lasts most of the day. Because in truth, no matter what I say, it will always go down as one of my favorite Christmases of all time.
I have kids who love each other. Like wicked big love. They wake up each morning so darn excited to see each other. Leah runs into the little one's room crying, "HI BROTHER! I'm so happy to see you!" The little one can't wait to hug and kiss her, and he wants to do so often enough that she ends up shoving his face away when he comes at her, mouth open and tongue out. {I can't entirely blame her, his kisses have gone from sweet sucking face to full on french kissing. It's getting very Animal Planet around here.} She shares her food with him, and he watches and copies every little thing she does. They make each other laugh. They hold hands in the car. I wish I could capture every little nuance of their relationship and package it for the days they're teens and think they hate each other. Today, they're both just too good even to be real.
Leah spontaneously breaks into Christmas song. Most of them are the traditional, learned ballads. Away in a Manger and "I met a man who lives in Tennessee" (aka Home for the Holidays) are her self-proclaimed favorites. Many are entirely made up and usually have something to do with the birth of baby Jesus, although "Oh how beautiful you are" has been making the rounds. I can't lie, I'm not totally sure where that one came from. It fills my heart with such indescribable joy to listen to that sweet, slightly off-key voice sing out joyfully. That child, she is my heart.
Logan has sweet in his very soul. He can be such a lot to handle, but the boy is so much sugar. We have been watching my nephew Greyson once a week, and Logan absolutely adores him. He kisses him and pulls his blanket up when it falls down. He puts his paci back in his mouth... probably with more force than is required, but with all the delicacy a 15 month old is capable of. He loves to make me laugh, and has this way at bedtime of coercing me into letting him stay up a little longer because he pulls some new hijinks that has me bursting into laughter. His little face lights up, and of course the process is repeated as we both giggle away instead of going to bed. I love that ornery little trouble maker with everything in me.
My husband lets me lay on the couch. Seriously, thank God for that man. What would I do without him? I was doing pretty okay until about a week ago, when the nausea hit me full force. It's not enough to make me lose my cookies, just there in the background pretty much all day, especially when I have the audacity to do things like stand up and move around. I don't know how we would have made it through the last week without him, he is a saint that husband of mine.
Logan eats ornaments. I shouldn't even put this down, it is definitely evidence of my terrible, horrible, no good parenting skills. I tried so hard to get all the delicate ornaments up high enough to be sure that little hands (and mouths) wouldn't get a hold of them. Wouldn't you know it, my little one outsmarted me by learning that he can pull a stool around to reach all the high, off-limit places in our house. I came in to check on him one day and, sure enough, that little stinker had pulled the stool to the tree and reached up to grab a very delicate little ornament, which, when I came in, he had already taken a bite of and was pushing shards of sharp plastic out of his mouth. Lovely! I was able to clean his mouth out and never saw any plastic or glitter come out the other end, so I'm assuming I got it all before it did any damage. It was a very narrow miss. I won't even bring up the time I caught him with his stool in the kitchen, knife in hand. We're on a very tight learning curve about what the new Logan + stool height restrictions are.
They love the Elf on the Shelf. She was a great addition to our season, even though, like an idiot, I couldn't keep track of her and Casey had to take over those duties. Every morning, the kids loved trying to spot her. Logan was so distraught on Christmas morning when she was nowhere to be found, since she had gone back to the North Pole with Santa. It was tragic, he wandered the house saying, "Ella? Ella?" which is his very best pronunciation of Ellie. Sometimes it comes out a little more like "Ewoo" which is funny too... We'll look forward to seeing her next year.
This Christmas thing is awfully fun with those two special little ones. Their faces, special relationship and abundance of love is the very best gift I've ever been given.
I hope the Christmases we give them during their childhoods will be enough to carry them through, so that they'll forever enjoy the magic of the season.
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