Growing up, you would have never been able to convince me of this… but there actually is something better than being a kid on Christmas morning. Don’t get me wrong, being a kid on Christmas morning is probably one of the most care free, magical, and wonderful feelings that I have ever felt. But I am convinced now that being a parent on Christmas morning is actually more amazing.
As a child, the magic just happened, out of nowhere. You took the magic at face value, and never questioned its existence. We all know now that it was actually our parents making it happen, but as a child your blinders are on, and you are zoned into just making it until at least 3am on Christmas morning when you could finally bound from your bed, head first into your stocking stuffers.
As a parent, you create the magic. You watch Christmas happen every single day. You watch your youngest child learning from the older… you watch the belief in Santa Clause consume their hearts. You sit back and give out morsels of information about the North Pole, the rules of making it onto Santa’s good list, and Rudolph’s nose. Even though Christmas is something way bigger than we are… we cultivate our children’s minds to believe. And that cultivation leads us to witnessing the magic twice. Once as we create it… and then again as we see it settling onto their little faces. And all of this happens **before** 3am on Christmas morning.
Christmas morning for children is the pinnacle. They have steadfastly eaten their advent chocolate for the 1st… 2nd.. 7th… 18th… days of December. They have been mindful of their good and bad behavior. They have done their time.
But for a parent, Christmas morning has been a beacon of light at the end of the magic tunnel. It is the first morning of several where we are finally off-duty. And we can bask in the glow of every ounce of magic we have created. In all of its glory.
So as I type this on Christmas Eve at 9:00pm… I wish all of you a very Merry Christmas morning.
