On the sixteenth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me – Children
Children. Christmas. Chaos. Those three words are meant to go together this time of year. Between the continuous sugar rush from Christmas treats, their entire world a glow with twinkling colours, and the knowledge that a man in a bright red suit will hopefully be making a visit to their house on Christmas Eve, no wonder the little ones run around like their heads are about to burst. But imagine how boring it would all be with out the squeals of delight, or may the odd temper tantrum.
Asher Rye is seen as completely crazy for wanting to be the frontline elf at Santa’s Castle. Who in their right mind would want to deal with cranky and tired wee ones who have been waiting years (in little person time) for their chance to visit with Santa Claus. But it’s because of his position as the welcome elf, Asher is able to remind the children the magic and wonder they are going to be seeing once they start down the striped carpet leading to the big man himself. Ash says call him crazy, but it’s the best job ever.
Of course I remember the absolute wonder of Christmas when I was a little girl. Venturing downtown to see all the decorated store windows, while fighting our way through the holiday hordes to make our way into the department store Toyland , which seemed to be made out of unicorn dreams. And at the centre of it all, was the big man himself, bellowing HO HO HO for the entire city to hear. It was all larger than life.
When I started to collect nieces and nephews, I got to experience tha joy from a new perspective. We, the adults of the family, were the ones that created the magic, starting traditions and adding our own bits to the wonder.
(Yes you get an extra picture tonight because my son was cute and I thought I’d lost this one)
Then the hubby and I had our own little Christmas fiend, and it was the most fun ever! Coming from a Christmas loving family of my own, I filled his holidays with gingerbread houses, cookie decorating parties (I should have bought stock in sprinkle stocks that year…eight kids under eight equals cookies buried in inch thick piles of sparkly coloured sugar) and tracking Santa thanks to NORAD. Oh thank you internet!
The only thing we didn’t get in our house was the Christmas morning early wake-up call. Every single Christmas, the hubby and I would be downstairs, sitting on the couch, waiting for a sleepy little boy to wake up. This was the kid who we lived in fear of calling out “morning time!” at six every morning. Except Christmas morning. Little bugger.
All the kids in our family are in their teens or twenties now, so we’re going to have to wait for the next generation to begin for the enjoyment that Christmas brings when little ones are around. But not yet. Not for quite a while yet. Pretty please!
Until tomorrow all!