I love Christmas. Last year we were at my parents’ for Christmas, which is special in its own way because of all my memories and being with my family for the holidays. But it’s also no longer home, either, and I found out that travel with a child can be a little less of a vacation than I had hoped.

This year we are home, with a tree up and lights on the house. Our tree this year was not our normal big tree, which the cats always get into at night, but a smaller tree that I set up on our table to keep it safer. It is cute, but not quite right either – but still better than picking up ornaments and fixing garland every single morning, and then trying to keep Kate from pulling things off it. So it’s sat on the table, gathering presents beneath it. For Christmas morning, however, I moved it down to the floor in the living room so we can sit next to it and open presents. (The cats of course now seem to take more of an interest in it, which I don’t understand. It’s been in the room the entire time!) It doesn’t have many presents under it, and at least half are from my parents. But that’s okay. It’s cute. It’s perfect.

Mostly I sit here and marvel that Christmas isn’t just about Den and I exchanging gifts and me dictating to him how to fill the stocking and wrap the presents. This year we have a kid; next year we’ll have two! It’s now about building memories and traditions for my children, so that hopefully one day they can sit in front of a Christmas tree and laugh and reminisce at how mom used to do things every year… so that they can have this sense of joy like I do. I wonder how they’ll remember it, what memories we’ll make for them – I wonder how differently they’ll see it from how we do. I know this year Kate is too young to really remember anything, but I think she’ll have fun opening presents and playing with her new toys.

It’s just so exciting. I love Christmas morning!