For the most part, I’ve always been against shopping for Christmas at least until after Halloween. I’m one of those people who give a disapproving head shake in stores when plastic pumpkin candy buckets are lined up next to light up yard snowmen.
But this year, something has taken over. Her name is Olivia.
I’ve reverted back to an age where I believed in Santa, and I was ready as soon as the Fourth of July was over to start a list of toys I hoped he’d deliver.
This will be Olivia’s first Christmas, and she’ll be just a couple days over seven months old when the holiday falls. She’s mastered laughing, looks intently and curiously at everything around her and grabs anything within her reach.
What’s more, the best toy anyone could possibly give her is paper – especially shiny, glittered, super-crinkly, bright red paper.
I already have a head full of images of her sitting on the floor between my husband and me next to the Christmas tree as the little white twinkle lights shine. She’ll have no idea who Santa is, nor will she care that a few extra special gifts will be marked from him in my best Santa handwriting.
I can’t wait to see her tear the paper off and – after I’ve taken the paper away so she doesn’t try to eat it – give a little Olive giggle about the new toy wrapped inside.
Halloween doesn’t fall until tomorrow, but I’m pretty well done with Christmas shopping for my little ladybug – minus only the spur-of-the-moment things I’ll find over the next couple months. She’s even set with an adorable Christmas dress already. OK, so maybe she has two adorable Christmas dresses, but trust me, she needs them both.
She’s not even old enough to sit up on her own yet, so I know logically that she won’t remember this Christmas. That said, I know it will be one of the many that I’ll never forget.
No comments:
Post a Comment