As I’ve grown up, I’ve come to value Christmas Eve as an even better holiday than Christmas day. I think it’s because in my family, we use Christmas Eve as an excuse to day drink, eat cookies and pie for breakfast, listen to Christmas music and sing along obnoxiously, and anticipate what the following day might bring. It’s also the last day of the real “season” – after Christmas morning, all of the gifts are opened, yummy meals are served and eaten, and the excitement is over. We leave our Christmas tree up until New Year’s Day, but without presents underneath it, it always looks bare to me.
I’m excited for Kennedy’s second first Christmas to happen with her grandparents. I feel like grandparents are the icing and sprinkles on the metaphorical Christmas cupcake that millions of children yearn to dig into every December 25th. As parents, we work hard to make sure that the holiday is fun and memorable, but Grandma and Grandpa really drive it home.
Presents are wrapped, lights are strung and gleaming, cookies are ready for baking, and five hearts – mine, mom’s, dad’s, hubby’s, and Kennedy’s – are all together. It doesn’t really get much more perfect for me.