This has been a special and specially exhausting Christmas for us. From past experience I have learned that the tireder I am as a mama, the more likely I am to look back someday with a forgetful haze surrounding the sweetest of memories buried there.
I hope I never forget Will’s first (and last!) preschool Christmas pageant. He had much less stage fright than usual; he sang with gusto Up On the Housetop and Jesus Our Brother (or something about the friendly beasts around him? No idea what song that was but, cute).
Henry misbehaved the entire time because it killed him that he couldn’t run up to Will and that Will ignored his loud “Hey Will!”s.
I gave him cash and helped him make a list of ideas for what each grandparent loves and what to get them…
He took his own money and picked out his own gifts with the help of some sweet old ladies at our church’s “Santas bag” event. He came out proudly with three big brown bags full of wrapped presents. I’m dying to see what he picked out!
I hope I never forget the way Henry squeals “Reindoo!” at reindeer.
We found a tree farm less than an hour away and made a happy memory piling in our still-new to us Pilot with Uncle Mo and Aunt Maddy and picked out the biggest tree we have ever had. The boys loved the experience mostly thanks to the farm animals they got to pet.
I hope I remember how, the next day, Jason and I were too tired to decorate the tree yet besides the lights so we told Will we would work on it later… And then we turned around and noticed our sweet little Christmas elf cheerfully standing on the sofa arm so he could put up all the ornaments himself.
I don’t ever want to forget Will’s excitement over his first adventure to the movie theater for The Good Dinosaur matinee with his daddy. He had to get the full treatment with popcorn and Sprite. Will needs everything to be classic and storybook-like. Their selfies killed me:
Jason said Will got startled and jumped a few times. I asked Will if there were any scary parts and he said no, “but a few parts were almost scary”.
And I never want to forget Will’s perspective on pregnancy. Poor guy, I guess I have been pulling the pregnancy card on him too often this holiday season, because one night when we were walking through our neighborhood to look at the Christmas lights, I said something to the effect of “I need to go the long way home Will, cause I’m pregnant and the baby needs me to exercise” – and to my shock, he snapped “I wish you weren’t pregnant!”
Me: “I’m very sorry you said that Will.”
Will (apologetically): “I mean… I just wish you laid an egg.”
I wonder how many people have wished the same thing.