. . . a three-year-old-Christmas

This was the year. This year. The year that our sweet Averie really understood the magic and beauty of the Christmas season. The year that we could see it in her eyes, and hear it in her voice and smile and laugh at the wonder of it all.

From gingerbread houses (she made three) to cookies (she made several dozen) and Christmas hymns (she loves 'O Holy Night') to carols (we had no idea she could identify 'Carol of the Bells' - and she can, be it played on strings or brass), from lights ("Wights! Mama! Look! It's multi-colored! That's my most favorite kind of sprinkles!") to lawn 'art' ("Dadoo! Look! A reindeer!"), from holiday movies to holiday art, she had a full and excitement-filled start to the Christmas season.

This year, she had her own 'wish list'. She added items to it frequently, and we-the-parents are fairly certain she didn't really understand the concept of the 'wish' part. This was evidenced multiple times (we thought) by how easy it was to pacify her through the toy aisles of any given store. Anytime she asked to 'have' something, we told her she could put it on her wish list. "Ok", she'd reply. "I want this on my wish list". And then she'd calmly put the item back in it's place on the shelf and keep moving. It worked like a dream. We were slightly worried that it might come back to bite us when she realized that the majority of the items she put on the list didn't make it under the tree (it was a REALLY big list), but we figured we'd cross that bridge later on.

Imagine our surprise when on Christmas morning, her first request was for her sister. Her second request was for some M&Ms with her cheerios. And her third request was to take off her jammies. For nearly an hour and a half after she woke up, she asked nothing about the gifts. Finally, sometime around ten a.m., she asked if she could open a present. When we told her yes, she squealed with glee, ran over to the tree, grabbed a tiny box from the bottom of the pile and placed it carefully into my hands. "Mama!" she shouted. "We got this for you, Mama! It's very special earrings for you! But don't tell because it's a surprise!" Imagine our hearts when we realized her first thoughts were for people other than herself.

And when she finally began to open up her very own presents, she stopped, content, at two. The very two she'd asked for most, and the first item on her wish list. The next hour saw her fully happy and fully occupied with those toys, unconcerned with the rest of her stash resting beneath the branches. And the rest of the morning continued much the same as it began ... and we-the-parents count ourselves very blessed.

Better than all the stuff of the season is this crazy joy. The hard stuff is still hard. The bad stuff, well, it's still bad. But the joy of seeing her see it all ... well, it's mushy and funny and happy and awesome and sappy and squishy and GOOD.

And just in case you think you've had your fill of adorable, here's proof you're not full yet. Our baby-girl-the-first-adorable on her fourth Christmas ...