Happy New Year! But, first, Happy Christmas!
Christmas is my favorite holiday.
Spending time with family, eating delicious food, an expanded variety of candies, giving presents. Oh, man, ya’ll. I love it all.
I love the tree.
I love wreaths.
I love things that smell like pine.
I love the lights and the tinsel and the ornaments.
I love Hallmark Christmas — and I am not ashamed.
I love Santa.
I especially love the cookies and milk bit, and I can’t wait to lie to my son about it. SO excited.
New favorite thing?
Christmas jams. (He might have had three different pairs because I can’t control myself.)
And. This. Baby.
Not pictured are Matt’s and my Christmas pants. Mine — red with white snowflakes, a woman’s size large. His — gray with red snowflakes, a woman’s size large… But that’s another story about how H&M doesn’t size their clothing well and how my husband can wear pants made for women because OF COURSE.
We visited family in Indiana for Christmas, which is a 12-hour drive from Home Sweet Home, if you were curious.
Truthfully, we didn’t make the entire drive in one shot on the way out. We left the Thursday evening before Christmas, pit-stopped in Missouri overnight, and then drove the nine remaining hours Friday to arrive just in time for dinner.
The shortened drive didn’t seem to matter to my son. Near the final hour, he simply gave up.
All he was.
All he knew.
The long drive coupled with the excitement of seeing cousins — not that he understands ‘cousins,’ but boy was it exciting! — tuckered him out for a nice long sleep Friday night. He woke in a good mood for family pictures Saturday morning.
Unlike Kansas, which is currently dry and cracking (or is that my skin), Indiana is wet. Wet and cold. Just cold enough for snow.
Big, fluffy, Narnia level snowflakes, folks.
There’s nothing more storybook than waking up to a blanket of snow in the dim morning light just days before Christmas. For our son’s first, we had a white Christmas.
It’s Hallmark — and I love it.
I hope you, too, had a very Merry Christmas.