Remember when I asked at what age kids “get” the magic of Christmas? Yeah. Owen has answered that question a million times over for me since I wrote that post. NOW. It’s here. THIS YEAR. He’s not quite 2 1/2, and the twinkle in his eye when he looks at Christmas lights or talks about Santa or says the word “Christmas” says it all. I’m not generally a crier, but I can’t even tell you how many times in the last few weeks tears have sprung to my eyes at just how precious Christmas magic is through Owen’s eyes.
The epitome of Christmas magic is, of course, seeing Santa. And I mean the REAL Santa.
I wasn’t sure that we were going to get an official Santa picture this year. My parents never did this growing up (too expensive and silly), so I never really thought it was a big deal. But the way that Owen listens to stories about Santa (The Polar Express is his favorite bedtime book right now) with his eyes wide and expectant made me think that maybe this was a little bit of Christmas magic we were missing out on.
So this past weekend we decided to go for it.
I heard rumors that there was an awesome Santa at a nearby mall. I knew that waiting in a long line would ruin the Christmas magic for all of us (me especially!), so first condition was that we had to get there early and be one of the first people in line. Check.
We met several other adorable children in line and the waiting part was far easier than I expected. When Santa came in ho-ho-hoing, I almost burst into tears. You should have seen Owen rushing up and shouting, “HI SANTA!”. He believed so totally and completely.
When it was finally Owen’s turn he hopped right up on the big guy’s lap and started babbling to him about Christmas and reindeer and our tree. When Santa asked him what toy he wanted, he grinned and said “a trash truck”. He couldn’t stop smiling.
Magic, I tell you. Christmas magic.