This was our first Christmas morning waking up in our own house, instead of making the usual trek to my parents’ on Christmas Eve (or sooner). I have to admit, I was apprehensive. Part of me didn’t think it really felt like Christmas, and it was one of those weird steps into adulthood that give you a thudding reminder that you are no longer the child around whom Christmas morning revolves.
But Christmas morning at our own home was worth it. We followed no pace or schedule, just Natalie’s whims. When she wanted to spend 20 minutes straight just jumping on her new trampoline, that was just fine by us. She wanted to make (but not eat) pancakes just as we settled in for gift-opening? Sure thing. A frigid ride around the neighborhood in her new (to her) wagon? Yup.
Christmas was certainly different this year, but it was exciting to see it through Natalie’s eyes as she crept down the stairs at 4:30am and saw the living room transformed. Her genuine surprise and glee over every box, ribbon, and tiny stocking stuffer were contagious.