It's Christmastime!

Those who know me well know that I get a little crazy at Christmas.

Maybe "crazy" is an understatement.

I'm the type of person who plays Christmas music all year long, much to the chagrin of my dear hubby. The instant the first decoration hits the shelves at Wal-Mart, I'm there. I plot and plan and scheme for months leading up to the Big Day, and most likely drive everyone crazy who's unfortunate enough to be in a 50-mile radius of me.

This year will be different.

Bigger.

Better.

Why? Because I have a 3-year-old who is (if it's even possible) more excited about Christmas than I am. His enthusiasm has been great - we can now go into Wal-Mart without buying a toy, as long as we browse through the Christmas section. When Jeff dropped him off at the sitter's (who had recently decorated for the holidays), Bebo exclaimed "Look! The house has Christmas on it!"

Who would have thought picking out a Christmas tree would be a world-class event? It was just a $30 skinny pre-lit tree, but he was practically bouncing out of the cart with excitement. As more people are decorating their homes, the rides across town are becoming quite entertaining. He'll burst out with excited commentaries about the lights, inflatable Santas, and plastic reindeer he sees. Every minute is a new joy for him.

Braeden's wonder of the season is bringing back all the wonderful memories of my childhood Christmases. I walk down Memory Lane every year, but somehow this year is different. His joy is allowing me to re-live my past experiences, rather than just remember them. I can feel the same excitement for the overdone yard displays. I can smell the cookies and candy baking (and sometimes burning) in the kitchen. I can see Nanny and Pa unloading presents from behind the backseat of their old blue pickup. I can hear Linus reciting the Christmas story for the hundredth time on TV. All those memories meld together in my mind in a big happy blur. It's why I love Christmas so much.

And it's why I want Braeden to have his own set of special memories. So I'll do my best to make a little Christmas magic this year - the first year he will really begin to grasp the concept. And maybe in another twenty or thirty years, he'll being watching his children clap their hands in excitement, reliving - like I am now - the Christmases of his own childhood.

Post Numero Uno

Well.... here we go! My official attempt at a blog!

I'm not entirely sure how I want to use this. I think it may just be a hodge-podge of who I am, what I like, and what I'm thinking about for the day.

So, that being said, here's what's on my mind this morning:

The scrapbooking bug has hit again this morning. I am feeling inspired - but I don't have any pictures to work with! I'd like to do some fun, less structured stuff, but I've taken very few pictures lately. I did get some developed yesterday, but they weren't especially good. It's hard to take pictures in my house. We have terrible lighting problems.

There's so much about Bebo that I've missed scrapping in the last few months. I want to document some of the funny things he's been saying - and some of the funny things he's quit saying. Take "wewo," for instance. "Wewo" means "I love you." Bebo said it for a long time, puzzling us all. We knew he was perfectly capable of saying "I love you," but for some reason he liked "wewo" better. We all grew to love it - his sweet little voice saying that word would make you feel all fuzzy inside. Sadly, in the last few weeks, he's begun to outgrow it. He said it once to me the day after Thanksgiving. We were driving home from a trip to see Granny and Papa. I said "I love you," and he responded with "wewo." I nearly cried - I'd forgotten how much I missed it already. I suspect it's the last time I'll hear it. Even so, I know I will never forget how sweet it was to hear a sleepy "wewo" from a little boy freshly tucked into bed.