Christmas Eve

Norman Rockwell, eat your heart out. Sledding, cookie decorating, a family dinner (NOT made by me - hooray!), and a letter to Santa. Eat. Your. Heart. Out.

First up, sledding! Here's the hill. Please note, if you are lucky enough to miss the basketball pole at the bottom, it is icy enough to just keep sliding right into the Potomac.

James, of course, showed NO FEAR. I think he rode that hill about um, 1,000 times.

Walking back UP the hill, however, was not his favorite so here he gets a lift from Marissa.

And here, blog readers, is a little New Year's treat. Me. Sledding the hill.

Enjoy.

For the second year in a row, James decorated his "santa cookies" with Oma. He did a LOT of taste testing....

Here,

here,

and here.

Then naps (for everyone) and Christmas Eve dinner at our favorite tapas restaurant.

James ordered his usual. "3 french fries and one giant bowl of ice cream, please."

Back home to sprinkle reindeer food (a gift from Halley). Do you know this stuff? It's oats with glitter mixed in "so Santa's reindeer can find your house." I explained all of this to James (several times), but something got lost in the translation and he just stood there, holding the little container of "food" up to the sky. Who knows how long he would have stood there, waiting for the reindeer to come and eat the food right out of his hand.

So after yet another explanation, he just dumped the whole thing right at his feet.

Carefully placing Santa's cookies out and....

... another taste test "just to be sure."

and I will leave you, on Christmas Eve, with this:

Oma: James what do you want Santa to bring you for Christmas?

James: drums, cymbals, a REAL camera, and a telescope

LONG PAUSE

Oh, and a gun.

Norman Rockwell, indeed.