The holidays are always magical with kids. More so with a three-year-old parroting back everything she hears, in her adorable three-year-old way. You know, like Dasher and Dancer and Pants On and Fixin’, Comma and Q-Tip and Donald and Bits-in. I die. Every Time.
My favorite is when she’s absorbed in something these days, like rolling playdough or picking peas out of their shells. She’ll quietly sing to herself, “Oh Christmas tree, Oh Christmas tree,” hum the rest of the line, then repeat. Over and over. She must have heard it on the radio, and, I’m sure in her mind, a song about something that she helped chop down and decorate and is twinkling in her living room right now is pretty awesome.
The minute she wakes up in the morning, she points to the living room and solemnly says, “Mom. Turn on Christmas tree.” She’ll pause during playtime to wander over and adjust an ornament or two. It’s become a part of our daily routine, a glowing source of comfort, a constant. The boys come home from school now and ask what ornament craft they’re making that day. Even Hubbie remarks every so often, “It really is a gorgeous tree, isn’t it?”
I don’t know how we’ll break the news after Christmas that it’ll have to come down. Let’s just think about that later. For now, we’re enjoying how lovely its branches are.