As much as I love it, these quiet moments after Christmas are always so nice. The tree stands, proud and decorated, and there’s no pressure to make or buy lovely things to put beneath it. Josie loves these days best of all, as there’s finally room for her.
We spent a lovely Christmas eve and day with my parents (at what we call our “country house”). Dash, oblivious to all except mom & dad & grandparents lavishing attention on him, was spoiled with more gifts than he knows what to do with. Not too many really, but when you consider how much an almost-one-year-old really needs, a lot.
His favorite way to spend time? Standing at the old drum-turned-coffee-table playing with this little gift box that plays “We wish you a merry Christmas” every time the lid is lifted. Sounds fine, but that box is one of the more annoying things ever brought into my parent’s house. And I should know. I brought it home to them almost twenty years ago. You’re welcome, Dad!
So now it’s all over for another year and the snow is falling yet again. Life goes on, and never was that more clear than on my to-do list.
And with that I’m off. Those thank you’s don’t write themselves.