We seem to have established several holiday traditions. There's the playroom tree and hot cocoa in the afternoon. Early in the month we meet for an afternoon at The Nutcracker; midway, little hands roll molasses cookies in sugar for neighbors; and then we round out the season with secret Santa and a rather feisty ornament exchange. Oh: And by the end of it all I come down with a fever. Without fail! It's maddening. It's like go, go, go, go, go, go, go, STOP. My body quits on me. This year, I couldn't even muster the energy to orchestrate a picture of us as a family on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day. Oh well.
Per usual, the kids consumed too many sweets and we had to leave parties early for bedtime, or some semblance of it. Cecile loves The Nutcracker. I bought her a "Clara" Nutcracker at the theater gift shop and it comes with her everywhere. She asks us to play the music, and then reenacts each scene, telling Genevieve small details such as, "This is when Fritz breaks the Nutcracker," or "the Snow King and Queen dance now." It's something. Genevieve just toddles along, mimicking her sister whenever possible. A holiday anecdote for G: She didn't like sitting on Santa's lap, but whenever she spots one--as a decoration, in a photo, you name it--she points and squeals, "Santa!" Jon has been working a lot, but at least didn't have to work over the holiday, which was good for the girls ... all of us. There was a little magic on Christmas Eve. We came home just in time for a group of carolers to sing "We Wish You a Merry Christmas"--something we'd never witnessed before. It was lovely. Though, because we had told Cecile Santa was en route, she had no desire to stand and listen. Instead, she demanded we hurry up and put her to bed. Talk about a Christmas miracle.
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