I have always loved Christmas. It's so much fun to spend time with family, eat deliciously sinful food until you're sick, and give and receive gifts. I love the lights, the smells, the twinkles and sparkles, and the magical wonder of the season. But what I experienced for the first time this year was something new and better than any of my previous 26 Christmases.
This year, I experienced the joy of spending every moment with my babies. Watching the way their faces lit up every single time they saw Christmas lights or shimmering decorations. I experienced the magical amusement they had over a simple roll of wrapping paper, and fondly nicknamed Jordan "Rip Van Crinkle" because of this fascination. I watched their amazement every time we lit a fire, and how "fire" quickly became Jordan's favorite word. I watched them love and play with one another, and fell more and more in love with being their Mommy. And when we walked into the living room on Christmas morning, I watched their eyes twinkle as they looked over the bags and packages Santa put under the tree for them. And we all sat on the floor and laughed so hard every time Jordan would rip open a package and scream "oh wow!" and jump up and down. And our hearts melted as Emma crawled right over to her new pink walker and took her first steps with it. Later in the day, we spent our afternoon together hanging out and assembling baby toys, laughing about how Santa should really think about assembling things before hand. This year I had my favorite Christmas. Because this year, I didn't just feel love. I saw it, and all of its incredible, perfect beauty. Merry Kidsmas.
