Christmas Obsession

He has worn his Santa hat both to school and to bed.

He has watched Curious George’s A Very Monkey Christmas at least 15 times in the last month – sometimes twice a day – and has had the three songs from that movie on constant repeat on my iPod.

He decorated the table-top fake tree in his bedroom a couple of weeks ago.

He bugged me for days until I relented and helped him bake a gingerbread house.

When we finally went out and got a tree for the living room, he spent a good long time just lying peacefully on the couch, staring at the tree in utter contentment.

He has been counting the days for a full month already, and he still has 23 days to wait. Frequently, he will script “Christmas is still very far away” with a heavy sigh.

He still hasn’t bought into the whole writing-to-Santa thing. Despite prompting he has shown zero interest in making a Christmas list and hasn’t otherwise indicated there’s anything he wants to receive as a gift. I’ve tried to coax him to think about what sort of present he should give to his daddy, but I’ve made no headway.

But this year, I know he Gets It. In a magical, profound way, he is filled with Christmas Spirit, radiating a kind of joy and peace I don’t see on his face the rest of the year.