Hey, do you realize that there are less than 3 months to go until Christmas? I do, because motherhood has turned me into a full on Christmas maniac. I’ve already bought several gifts, though I’m still trying to figure out the perfect hiding spot (I’m looking for the right mix of “out of the way” and “won’t forget I put them here”). I’m scoping out holiday dresses, pinning crafts and cookies galore, and of course, planning the perfect holiday card photo shoot.
Christmas is obviously extra special this year since it’ll be my baby’s first, so I have no problem admitting that I am going to go way overboard. I realize that she’s not going to remember any of it. And she’s probably not going to understand the concept of opening presents, or even care what’s underneath the wrapping paper. In fact, she’ll probably be more excited about the boxes they come in than in the new toys themselves. But I don’t care. I’ve been waiting pretty much her entire life (literally, since she was born at the end of December last year) for this, and I intend to make it a Hallmark moment.
There are two big reasons I’m going so Christmas crazy for my baby. One is that with her birthday being so close to the holiday, I want to make sure she doesn’t miss out on celebrating two special and separate days. The second is that I want her to enjoy the magic of Christmas and Santa for as long as possible.
Like any kid, I myself loved Christmas and ripping open tons of presents on the morning of the 25th (for the record, I am NOT on board with the instant gratification of opening presents at midnight). I was always spoiled with awesome gifts, and it was always a happy day. That being said, I don’t ever remember truly believing in Santa. This wasn’t for lack of trying on my parents’ part, because they dutifully kept the toys from the North Pole separate from the things they bought. I guess I was just a little more serious than the average kid, and I wasn’t falling for it.
Obviously, I turned out awesome (right?), but I hope it’s a little different for my daughter. I want her to believe whole-heartedly that a jolly fat man in a red suit flies all over the world handing out toys, because how awesome is that?! I want her to spend the days and weeks leading up to Christmas going out of her mind with excitement, waiting and hoping to see everything she asked for under the tree. I want to be able to make her whole year just by spending a few bucks on toys (okay, it’s going to be more than a few bucks), because I know it won’t always be that easy to make her happy.
I’ve said before that I wouldn’t mind her staying a baby forever, but I know that’s impossible. But if I can help her hang on to that child-like innocence and wonder for a few more years than I did… that’s totally worth the credit card bills I’m going to be hit with come January.