Dear Santa

I believed in Santa until I was about 10 years old. I wrote to him nearly every day of December and would feel so bad any time I wasn't nice to my sister because FOR SURE Santa had seen that... and had placed me on the naughty list.

Now, as I pass on my tradition of writing to Santa to my child, I think of the sweetness that comes with "believing." Max is finally excited about Christmas. This year, he's spending it with the Hills and I know how much fun he is going to have opening presents and playing with his toys out there. I'm sad that I'll miss his Christmas morning but he'll get to do it again with me once he's back. I think that's why this year I've really had to harness in my desires to buy him EVERYTHING a little boy would want. I can't buy him things to love me more... But I can spoil him anyway :).

Anyway, all this little guy wants for Christmas is a bike... His eyes get all glazed over in delight when he sees another kid riding a bike. This almost makes me forget the true meaning of Christmas!!
In other news, we have successfully driven around and delivered cards, banana breads, apple pies, and we'll be working on cookies. Wish us luck! Merry Christmas!