This post will be mostly full of pictures. I don’t think I’m up for much reflecting at the moment, and with a boy who won’t nap and is attempting to play quietly in his room, I doubt I’ll get through this whole thing all at once. But I will leave you with a few thoughts, and then a slew of pictures.
(Dear Santa, Here is a snack for you. It will make you very healthy. To Santa, from Jayce. Then he drew a picture of Santa at the bottom.)
This is the first time that we have woken up in our own home on Christmas morning since we’ve had kids, and only the 3rd time in 9 married years. The highs were very high, particularly the “night before Santa and reindeer prep,” the “Christmas morning tree squealing and happy dancing,” and the “not having anywhere to be at a particular time and doing things at our own pace.”
Also, the lows were low, with 4 days of “we’re all out of our routines and in this house together and driving each other a bit crazy,” missing our families, and seeing how our families missed us. Chris and I talked numerous time about this in the past few days, “this is one thing that’s great about just being home/this is one thing that stinks about being here right now instead of…” and just kept saying things like, “Well, each situation has pros and cons. Now we know the pros and cons with this one,” and other such reasonable comments. We pretend that being reasonable makes us feel better.
(Jayce paused in the middle of ripping open this kitchen to chop the watermelon that I had staged on the counter, and hand a piece to each of us. Kids are so funny.)
Why do we insist on taking pictures of all of us together in the morning, with slept on-hair, bleary eyes, and bad lighting?
Because these are the things that memories are made of, right? Right. Anyway, on to the pictures.