'twas the Son-day before Christmas

and all through the house, not a child was stirring since it was naptime. I should be following their lead since the attack of the head cold. The kids have had runny noses for a few weeks now but I had avoided it until yesterday. Now it feels like my head is completely plugged up, just in time for Christmas. The good news is I really could get an extra nap since CD is technically off work until January 2. (I say "technically" since you know he's still spending most of his waking hours looking at his laptop. In case you missed it, read this.)

Oliver is getting pretty excited about Christmas. I don't think he has a real grasp of why he's excited, but he senses it is something special. He knows there just one magnet left to put on the Winnie-the-Pooh countdown calendar, and two more drawers to open on the other one. (We do the magnets in the morning, and open the drawer after dinner.) He's pretty sure Santa Claus will bring him a guitar. We have talked about Santa and the reindeer and stockings and the chimney but I think he's just doing his best "smile and nod" for his mum.

Last year he was entirely puzzled about Christmas. We were in Maine with my family, there were presents, but none of it really sunk in. This is the first Christmas he might remember later on so I have been trying to start a few traditions, like making cookies and putting them out for Santa and the reindeer, and the countdown calendars. We may add more next year, depending on what he remembers and seems to want to continue.

I can tell his eyes are going to pop out of his head on Christmas morning, but I don't think I have worry about him not wanting to go to sleep in Christmas eve or getting up too early the next morning. Only a matter of time though.

CD was doing kid nail clipping today. It's the only thing I don't do. I'll do nails when he starts breastfeeding. It seems like a reasonable trade to me. One of Oliver's former teachers used to do them for me when CD was on long trips. Anyway, while his toes were being tended to Oliver announced, "I love snails." He "loves" a lot of things lately, but "snails" was something new. I asked him to say it again, which he did. I was still puzzled and he must have been able to read my face because the next thing he said was, "Daddy clip snails, Mum!"