My best gifts

She's too pretty to be mine. She had a lovely Christmas. The high chair is her new favorite place, because not only can she reach her toys, she also gets to be part of the family meal without the constant "no, no, no grabbing/swatting/thwacking." She's enthralled by her new beads and remote control and stayed awake the whole time, unlike the first Christmas for this kid:



Is this really his eighth Christmas? That really can't be possible. I hope I made this, probably his last Santa Christmas, very memorable. Roaster played a huge part in the magic with a beautiful Lionel train. I figured that'd be the hit of Christmas, until a little while ago, as I drove Max to his Dad's.

"Mama, I think my best present is my new solar system."
Oh yeah?
"Yeah, Mama. Thank you."
Actually, baby, Hubs picked it for you.
"Hubs did?"
Yep.
"And he thought I'd love it?"
Yep.
"And you told him he could buy it for me?"
Yep.
"Well, it's my favorite thing of Christmas."

Someone, somewhere must have known I needed that opening. Stupid Boy's Dad, who has no qualms not seeing this beautiful boy for six months at a time, has decided he's going to try to be consistent, at least for now. It's hard to let him go once every six months, nevermind once every three weeks. The battles between Boy and Hubs since this started have gotten pretty fierce. One of the downfalls to raising a smart butt.

So I got to give credit today to Hubs, the man who has loved him and raised him and been there for him always for the past five years when his stupid Dad didn't give two hoots. I got to give him credit for the best part of Christmas. So I hope that when Boy looks back and remembers this Christmas, he'll remember how Hubs thought "Hey, Boy's gonna like this." And maybe that'll help him as he tries his best to figure it all out.

It was a good day.

Merry Christmas to you all!