Christmas is my favorite time of year.  Our house is cozy, with the tree taking up a good portion of our re-organized living room, greenery on the railings, handmade stockings on the door, and cards lining the support beam in the living room.  Candles fill the house with scents of evergreen and cinnamon.

And, this year, Robbie gets it.  He knows about Christmas trees and lights and Santa and snowmen and candy canes.  He points out lights to me the whole way home, telling me, “Nona’s house.  Christmas lights.  Mama!  Lights!”  He shouts every time he sees a Santa.  And he thinks you decorate a tree by throwing ornaments at it and hoping they stick.

He screams with delight every time we get to the top of the stairs and he sees the Christmas tree.  Robbie takes great delight in showing people (namely Daddy and Aunt Allie) the miniature Christmas tree we set up in his room last night.  And the daddy bear that reads “Twas the Night Before Christmas” to a baby bear?  His whole face lights up.

I love that he wants to help me decorate – and, in the case of the tree, undecorated and redecorate – the house.  He’s perfectly content to watch Christmas specials with me.  And I can’t wait for him to actually realize what Christmas morning is.  I’m just hoping he’ll be able to hold it all together when we take him to meet Santa next week.  But I’m not holding my breath.