I admit I don't remember the kids grumbling so much about it last year. I think the idea of Santa was a bit too ever-present in their minds. NONETHELESS, our tradition-making ideals prevailed, and so off to the festival we trudged (through a tiny rain-pour).
I was a tad underwhelmed, but then again that seems to have been a holiday theme of mine this year.
After the festival (which Steven described as having "too much cigarette smoke and too many ugly people,") we went back home to open ONE Christmas present (pajamas) and drink hot cocoa. This activity was a much bigger hit with the kiddos, and so maybe we'll end up whittling it down to just that next Christmas Eve.
One of the best things about Christmas Eve this year was Adam and little cousin Jackson coming to stay with us. The boys adore Jackson, and had a wonderfully spell-binding time watching "Bolt" on Uncle Adam's laptop upstairs while waiting for us to remember they were still awake.
We finally rustled the little ones to bed at a fanstastically ludicrous hour, and spent the rest of the evening making preparations for Santa's arrival---which eventually culminated in a late night bull session and 30 Rock marathon between Steve, Adam and myself. A perfect conclusion to an exhausting night.
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