Christmas has felt a little different to me this year, since I haven’t been around on weekdays. It’s also been a bit odd because our living rooms is full of furniture. Village Free School is moving to a new location over Christmas break, and we’ve been collecting and storing some furniture to help them set up in their new space.
This means that the Christmas tree is squeezed into a fairly narrow slot between shelves and tables. And since I wasn’t around much, most of the decorating was done by Nathan, with occasional “assistance” from his sister. He did a splendid job in my opinion, although he had little patience with untangling strings of lights, and mostly just put them up in large globs.
We followed our usual tradition of opening one gift per day leading up to Christmas, and that worked well again. Next year I may even put them out under the tree and see if Mica has developed enough executive function not to rip them open. And this year, partly because I was gone so much, we did our Christmas cookie baking on Christmas Eve. This was, as usual, all about frosting and insanely large piles of sprinkles.
But the most exciting part of the day was undoubtedly that evening, when I looked up from cooking dinner to see traces of white on the ground. In record time all three kids were outside, where a thin layer of hard, pellety snow was busy accumulating. It was really more like a combination of freezing rain and ice pellets, but they didn’t care — for them, all those snowy Christmas cards were coming true.