Christmas Eve

All wrapped up in their mama-made jammies, full of a lovely dinner (eaten on our fancy plates, by candlelight), the kids wrote their note to Santa and stole downstairs for one more very close inspection of the tree.

They went to bed whispering and wondering about whether Santa would come through on their only two requests: a sparkly car (for Nora) and a sparkly Mater tow-truck (for Damo). I can still remember that feeling—holed up with my sister Caity in her bedroom, filled with anticipation, convincing each other and ourselves that we heard hoofbeats on the roof, begging for the hours to pass and sleep to come. This was the first year I've felt that vicarious joy and anticipation from our two. Moreso from Sidamo, of course, but Nora too seems to get it in a way that Sidamo didn't at her age. The precocious nature of younger siblings, I suppose.

I'll do another post with some gift reviews. There were some big hits and some spectacular duds (note: before you quadruple a recipe, try it out first), but really none of it mattered. It was a beautiful couple of days, filled with lots of warmth, family time, creativity, and kindness. Oh, and 60-degree weather. (Sorry east-coasters.) Really, that's just about as perfect a holiday as anyone could ask for. Despite what the photo below tells you.