We've been decking the halls at the Thomas house. Last Sunday we put up our Christmas tree and Patrick was delighted to discover our cache of UVA and sports-themed ornaments. The bottom of our tree is now heavily weighted with a set of football helmet ornaments all placed in very close proximity. Patrick and Madeline also modeled their Christmas pajamas for me. We're ready for a visit from St. Nick!
This past weekend we accompanied Patrick to a very special Christmas party at his friend Jack's house. We ate delicious cookies, Miss Dinah read Christmas stories to the kids, and just as she finished The Night Before Christmas Santa Claus himself came down the stairs with a sackful of toys and giant lollipops for the children. Patrick got a fire truck but was far more enamored of the lollipop, which he ate for the better part of the afternoon. The whole event was such a special treat and really put us in the Christmas spirit.
So Donald and I, in a state of advanced sleep deprivation, decided it might be a good idea to go to the mall. We reasoned that Patrick could snooze on the drive over, avoiding a nap standoff that we didn't have the strength to endure, and we could possibly soak up a little extra Christmas cheer while picking up a few final gifts. That was a really, really bad idea. Parking was nonexistent, we didn't have the strength to look for gifts let alone stand in line to purchase them, and Patrick's sugar buzz lasted all afternoon (so no nap). We did however manage to get Donald and Patrick a ride on the Christmas train and Patrick made me smile by proudly waving his ticket to me as the train chugged past. Perhaps sensing my exhaustion—or attempting an even bigger Christmas haul—Patrick delivered an early present as we passed Victoria's Secret on the way out. He spotted a big blowup picture of a brown-haired model and said "dat you Mommy, dat you on that big screen." Then he repeated it loud enough for several passers-by to hear. The North Pole has been alerted.
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