Christmas Day: Been and Gone

Hoy, I just got back from a long day of visiting family. The weather was fine, so no problems there.
Although I am hoping my daughter will be sleeping late tomorrow, especially after full fourteen hours of squeeing child under the, near sole, attention of adults … mostly adoring grannies and granddads. Guess who got a lot of prezzies? Girl is spoiled rotten every year. ^_^
She’s only five, so still in the Santa belief stage.
I’m always a little nervous when it comes to the whole Santa thing. See, I’m not all that big when it comes to the festive spirit and I stop believing in anyone but family bringing the gifts when I was around six or seven. There was just something about the idea of a jolly fat man sneaking into the house while everyone slept to give them all gifts that I found disturbing.
Anyhow, decorating the house ended three years later. Those old decorations are likely mouldering in the attic as I type. So my daughter started believing a little late. At around three years of age.
This was the Christmas when, after a year at her preschool and endless touring of merrily decorated stores, she came back to our house, looked up at the bare walls and said, in the most dejected voice I’d ever heard from her: “There’s no Christmas.”
I cried. Not bawled, but there were certainly a few tears. A couple of chocked-back sobs. ‘Twas the night before Christmas … okay the day before, but still … I hauled my butt down to the store and came back with a tree and an armful of decorations.
And so the tradition of decorating the house continued. It’s not much, a little tree, some tinsel and ribbons (and this year, a red and white paper chain that we made one afternoon), but she enjoys seeing it.
And my … her joy was certainly flowing this morning when she found ‘Santa’ hadn’t just brought gifts, he’d put candy canes on the tree and she’d gotten the “little unicorn with the littlest horn” she asked him for. (Hurray for all the shop assistants who help parents hide a gift and for all the aunts who distract their nieces and nephews while the parents pay for said present.)
Of course, I didn’t enjoy being woken up at 6am by said squeezing five-year-old, but hey, isn’t that all part of Christmas? ^_^

Now to plot my father’s birthday. It’s on the 1st of January. -_-
And what did I get from my daughter? A lump of amethyst (my birthstone) and a flower hairtie. Both thoughtfully picked out by her and paid for with her own money. ^_^

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