A last-minute, unshakable request for a bike threw me for a loop, and I spent the days before Christmas scouring the internet for a lightweight glider he could ride without training wheels. ("Red," he'd said firmly when I'd queried him.)
For the record, I did try to tell him it might not happen, but his eyes were so puzzled when I attempted to explain that Santa doesn't always bring everything that boys and girls ask for. "But mama," he said, shaking his head, "I've been good! I haven't been naughty." So...cut to me two days later, paying express shipping for my not-naughty son.
I had Christmas Eve off, so the three of us baked chocolate chip cookies while Josh was at work. (Well, Riis wasn't much interested, and pushed Andrew around while Cole and I cracked eggs and stirred in flour. She cared once they came out of the oven, though. She's got a distinctive method of requesting what she wants that boils down to yelling out short little barks and bouncing up and down.)
Anyway, when Josh got home, we wrote Santa a letter, unwrapped new pajamas, and tried to stuff the children into bed. (Josh had a bike to assemble, after all.)
I put Riis in a new dress for the occasion, even though it was too big for her.
Cole insisted we put the cookies and milk on a chair. I don't really know what that was all about.
He tried to wake up at 3:30 a.m., calling out to me that he was ready to see his presents, but grudgingly agreed to stay in bed until 6, when we all tumbled out of bed in the dark.
Riis wasn't thrilled to be awake.
Cole was, though.
The bike was a hit, and so was the "glow-up" light saber.
The aftermath.
So. That took us up until like 7:13 a.m. And even though the kids had fun playing with their loot...
...we needed to get out of the house by the afternoon. It was pouring rain, which meant stir-crazy city.
Is this the weirdest Christmas photo ever?
Josh pondering that question on the way to...
...Rite Aid.
Nothing else was open.
So that was our big holiday adventure.
Merry Christmas.
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