My Favorite Time of Year

Another Thanksgiving has been digested. Yes, my mother tried to burn down our house, but in the end everything worked out. James had trouble pronouncing "grandpa," and it came out "Pee-Paw," which was hilarious and, if I can help it, a permanent moniker.

The official Christmas tree erection took place. We decided against a real tree and purchased an artificial one that is tall and skinny. It is glorious. But I'm a sucker for everything Christmas. I'm easy. Still, it looks great. And James has taken it upon himself to turn it on first thing every morning when he wakes up.

I enjoy the hustle & bustle of holiday shopping, the canned Christmas music wavering down from department store P.A. systems, the pain from the plastic Toys R Us bag handles because they're too full of toys, the flavored lattes that I wouldn't drink any other time of year, and the anticipation of making Christmas morning last all day.

Now that we have a 2 1/2 year boy in the house, Christmas just got better. James is still a little too young to fully understand what's going on, but he's smart enough to know that Thomas the Train kicks ass and ripping open a present must be done with a surgeon's precision. As usual, we spoiled him this year with lots of wonderful toys. I can't help it.

However, given all the hype and hoopla over toys and gifts, Christmas ain't nothing without spending it with the people you love. This stretch of time between Thanksgiving and Christmas is my favorite time of year. I spend most of the time being excited for Christmas morning, but also taking stock of how lucky I am.