Christmas Eve was pretty much a regular day. It’s hard to believe tomorrow is Christmas; with our trip to Champaign, and celebrating with my family this weekend, the holiday seems like a whole week instead of just one day.
Spent the day doing the usual with Henry and Eleanor—scattering toys everywhere, eating goldfish crackers, and watching Signing Time. Andy got to leave work early, and once he got home I took off to run a few last-minute Santa errands. There were lots of other procrastinators out and about, crowding the aisles at Target and the grocery store.
Tonight we changed the babies into their Christmas jammies, and I sat with them to read The Night Before Christmas. What a nice tradition we’re starting, I thought, until Henry and Eleanor saw the first illustration of Santa. They whimpered and quickly turned the page, only to find another Santa picture. More whimpering and page turning followed, and we ended up reading about two pages of the book because really, the whole story is about Santa Claus. I guess they’re not as recovered from their Santa trauma as I thought they were.
After Henry and Eleanor went to bed, Andy and I ate the traditional Christmas Eve Taco Bell feast. We then decided it would be nice to see the babies’ new play kitchen under the tree tomorrow morning. We opened the box, spread out all the (millions and millions of) parts, and started to follow the instructions, hexagon-wrench-thing in hand. We got all the way to step ten, where we were stumped by one part not fitting into the other. Instead of under the tree, the kitchen is now hiding in Mommy and Daddy’s room until Grandpa gets here with his power tools.
The presents that didn’t require assembly are now wrapped and ready to open. Stockings are full, and Mommy is tired and looking forward to spending tomorrow with her family.