Have you decorated your house for Christmas yet?
Our place looks anything but festive at the moment. We have sort of decided to wait until we’re back from Paris to start decorating but we’ll already be one week into December when that happens. So I’m still trying to decide whether to get it done while we’re still here. The reason I’m so hesitant is that I am scared of what twinkling lights and a decorated tree might do to Robin’s curiosity. She’s constantly on the go, getting her little hands into everything in sight. I really don’t know how we can keep both her and the tree safe this year.
So, while we find a way to decorate our house while avoiding trips to the hospital emergency room, we decided it was time for other preparations to be made. This morning Maia wrote her letter to Father Christmas over breakfast. Have I ever told you how proud I am of her and her ability to not be swayed by peer pressure (yet)? I was fully expecting her to ask for a Lalaloopsy (I can’t stand them, especially because they’re blatant imitations of Coraline) or some other overly advertised plastic contraption. Instead, she remained faithful to her love for Charlie and Lola and limited her list to things she really really wants.
Her request for pretty dresses is understandable…I tend to buy her and her sister comfortable trousers and usually avoid dresses because they are both so active that they’re usually a health hazard. I’d rather they be comfortable and free to move around than pretty but restricted by clothing. I was also touched by the fact she thought of her sister and included her in the letter. It will be some time before Robin can write her own letters!
So, here’s Maia’s letter for this year:
And in case you were wondering, she still asked questions about Father Christmas. This time the questions weren’t as traumatic to me as they were a couple of years ago. She wanted to know whether Father Christmas really makes all his toys himself and how he manages to get into our flat since we don’t have a chimney. I don’t even want to imagine the day she’ll ask me The Question.