That was me when I was little. For sure. Until I found out the horrible truth that I guilted my mother into telling me. "Don't lie to me mom. Don't lie." It worked and then I sobbed for hours after my innocence was lost.
After that discovery, Christmas was still fun, but a little bit of the excitement was gone. And I was busy exerting my energy trying not to ruin my sisters' Christmas by letting them in on the secret.
Now that I am a mom, I wasn't sure if we were going to do Santa at our house. Especially because of my personal heartbreak- I didn't want to lie.
But we so are. Davy loves Santa. Well, at least from a distance and in stories. She's not about to sit on the man's lap or anything. Maybe what I mean is Davy loves Santa's presents. She is beyond excited to receive them.
|my little Christmas fairy|
She loves Christmas. The Nativity, baby Jesus, gingerbread paraphernalia, Santa and his reindeer, Charlie Brown and Christmas trees, ornaments, snowmen, presents, presents, and presents.
I'm not trying to go all Mother Theresa over here or anything, but I honestly cannot think of anything I want for Christmas this year for myself. (This is coming from a girl who bought herself a Cabbage Patch doll at her school's Christmas Shop with half the money her parents gave her to buy her family presents.)
In all honesty I have not been this excited for Christmas Day in 20 years. I cannot wait for Christmas morning. I feel like a little kid again. The last few years were exciting with Davy. But this year she really gets it. Now I have that same excited nervous ohmygoshwhatissantagoingtobringme feeling.
And as I am finishing up this post I hear her in her room getting tucked in and telling Daddy, "I am so excited for baby Jesus' birthday." That about sums it up.