Ah, it's that time of year again! The time when I can guilt-free put eggnog in my coffee, listen to Christmas carols all I want and not get stared at as if I'm a weirdo when I'm extra nice to people. I love this season... not just Christmas. Christmas has never been about presents to me (OK, never is a strong word; I WAS five once) but about spending time with family.
We moved around a lot when I was young, so Christmas was the only time of year we could almost guarantee we would all be together. I loved it. I have a large family that is noisy and crazy and volatile and who loves one another very much, even through the insanity. Some of my fondest memories come from the mischief my cousins and I would get up to at the kids table. When else could we interact so openly without direct adult supervision? Ah, memories!
I hate that I don't live close to much of my family anymore. As we've grown, we've spread out and started families of our own. It sometimes feels like it is impossible to visit with family that lives two miles down the road. What can I say? Life happens!
So... this year especially, I'm trying to form some new traditions with my son. I was all over Pinterest trying to find unique things that Dobby, our Elf on the Shelf, could do. Can you imagine my surprise when, three days into it, my son announced that Dobby scared him and wouldn't go within a 5-foot radius of wherever he was? Ugh, I tried my hardest to get him to realize that Dobby is his friend, but I think the idea of a magical being traveling at will through our house every night was just too much for his three-year-old brain.
Alas, don't despair! He went for the weekend with his Papi, and they had a really nice visit with Santa. He came back yesterday ready to accept Dobby back into the fold. So, wish me... I mean us... luck! I'll keep you informed.
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