Christmas has exploded at our home. Perhaps more correctly, Christmas has thrown up. Violently so.
Yes, I know, it's still early in the season. Technically, as I write this, it's not even December. But it's close enough. And the boys, well, the boys are already winding themselves up into knots of excitement. And good lord is that fun to watch!
I'm so happy to be giving these kids a boring, middle class upbringing. I want them to look back on their childhoods and see nothing different from what their friends experienced...except they happened to have two dads.
Oh and in the future, if they watch the video from today of the Christmas tree being decorated, they'll notice that the carols in the background are being sung in Greek. If asked about it by a future spouse or child I hope to hell they respond, "Gah! Who doesn't love 'Rudolf, to elafaki?'"
But the highlight of the day for me came when I asked the boys whose birthday we celebrated on Christmas. "Santa's?" Gus offered.
"No, some one really special."
How do you tell a kid his grandfather really isn't in the same league as God? LOL!
Along with our army of nutcrackers and my Andean Holy Family nativity set - one of the wise men is wisely bringing the Baby Jesus a chicken! - we've added some really wonderful decorations this year: decorations inherited by us from my precious Theia "Mimi", who passed away in June. Now there was a woman who loved Christmas.
Maybe that's why I was so willing to start the celebrations early this year. Seeing the impish little elf that I had played with as a child, or the ancient Merry Christmas sign that hung on her front door, made me feel that a little part of her will be celebrating the holiday with us.
Maybe that's my early Christmas gift from Santa.