Yes! It's Christmas morning! I've been up since five, all excited for my kidlets to wake up and open their presents. I put the gifts under the tree this morning, stuffed the stockings, and nibbled on the cookies left out for Santa.
But I have teens. Fourteen year old boys do not wake up at 5:30 am on Christmas morning, so excited to see if they received the latest LEGO firetruck. Teens sleep in until I insist they get up and come downstairs to open the gifts Santa brought them.
Perhaps I'm filled with too much happiness. I wonder sometimes if my sons want to vomit on Christmas morning.
"Kidlets! Time to get up! Santa came!"
"Mumble mumble mumble..." comes from their bedrooms. This is usually at seven o'clock. I can't wait. I'm so excited!
This morning I tried to keep myself busy, but I'm like a cat on catnip. I can't focus. I put together a scrapbook album this morning of themed postcards and stamped happy stamps on students' quizzes. That took up an hour. Then I decided I'd bake, one of my other creative outlets.
Alas, no eggs. I went through three dozen eggs last week, and last night used up the last three on a baked Nutella French toast for the boys. So much for baking this morning. Hmmm... What to do?
Wake up the kiddos? It's 7:15. I promised myself I'd hold out until 7:30. I think that's fair.
I miss the days when I would hear a little voice say, around 6:00 am, "Can we get up now?" on Christmas morning. We always remember firsts, but forget the lasts, I once heard. How true it is. What was the last Christmas that Kidlet A and B said that? The last Christmas that they sat in their beds, dreaming of remote controlled helicopters and Pokemon cards. The last Christmas that they couldn't wait to bound out of bed, rush down the stairs, and rip open presents to see what Santa left. The last Christmas that I could reach down and kiss them on top of the head. Now it's the other way around, with their height way above mine.
7:21. Presents are sitting under the tree, and I wonder if they're lonely. Do the gifts wait in anticipation for being opened, brought to a new home, and embraced by their new owners? Perhaps I have had too much coffee...
7:23. The buzzer on the oven just went off, signifying that it's hit 365 degrees and is ready for that Nutella French toast to bake. It's a Christmas tradition in our house to have baked French toast on Christmas morning. However, it takes forty minutes to cook, so I'll wait a few minutes before putting it in. Anyone want the recipe? This would kill some time for me.
7:24. I am going to wake them up. Me in my sock monkey pajamas, ready for the mumbles of morning from two boys who are on the brink of manhood. They may surpass me in height, not believe in the guy with the red suit, or want those LEGO sets any longer, but for me...they will always be my little guys and my Christmas miracle.
