We tried so hard not to overwhelm the children with Christmas this year. Well, Owen is generally clueless, so that was pretty easy, but we wanted Mia to be able to enjoy it without going into total overload. And so we were so careful, bought her so little, decided against many things she would have really loved, and she still had 15 presents to open on Christmas morning. It actually took most of the day to open her presents, because she would tear into a few and then decide she needed a break to watch her new copy of Tinkerbell or admire her new collection of fairies, or even better play with one of the four hammers her brother received as gifts.
But all that aside, the absolute hit of Christmas, the one thing she has dedicated more hours to than any other in the intervening days, the best gift that any three year old has ever received anywhere in the history of time is the 26 cent goldfish that Santa dropped off. She's been named Dorothy, and Mia checks in with her frequently to tell her about her day and to make plans for what they should to later. Play (Mia) and swim (Dorothy).
Dorothy is better than her new computer, better than her new princesses, better than Owen's new choo-choo push/ride toy. Dorothy is even more exciting than the trip we took downtown on Saturday to see the Nutcracker, where it snowed inside and the toys came to life. (And since it took me 40 minutes to go from Pennsylvania and E to 15th and Constitution, I am inclined to agree on that point.)
Christmas was wonderful. The kids are amazing, Chris is home, and we are just enjoying being together and playing and doing the silly things we like to do. But it is all the more wonderful to realize that my kid could have received nothing more than that 26 cent fish and still have been blissfully happy. I hope she holds onto that power forever.