Christmas is a holy and special time for me. I love what Christmas means and that idea that this is the day that we celebrate Jesus’s birthday. Yes, we commercialize and materialize the holiday into something that is unrecognizable, but I love the magic of believing and seeing the excitement in the eyes of children.
We finally have a name for BabyBoy. It is Nathaniel and he was causing me pain on Christmas Eve. I cannot explain it only to say that I believe he went through a growth spurt, since after all, I am now thirty-six weeks pregnant. He is my little miracle growing in my belly. To think, in about four weeks I will be holding him in my arms and dragging him around on the back of my bike.
This year Jon is 10 and Joe is 8. For the past few months da boyz kept saying that Santa was not real. To my surprise, on Christmas Eve, da boyz wanted to track Santa. They watched Santa go to Cuba, to Puerto Rico, and Aruba. When Santa hit the United States in Florida, Jon said it was time to go to bed.
Our day started early Christmas morning. Jon woke up at 10PM, 1AM, 3:30 AM, at 5:30 AM, and finally at 6:30 AM, da mister finally said lets open our presents. We bought each of da boyz a map of the United States and they spent about forty-five minutes going through our loose change in search of quarters for each state.
Most of the afternoon was spent at my parents’ house and we enjoyed our time with my extended family. Everyone seems to be coming together and appreciating all the new brothers and sisters in our lives.
To sum it all up, here is The Alaniz version of The twelve Days of Christmas.
12. Loads of laundry
11. Hours of cartoons
10. Cups of coffee
9. Episodes of Clarence
8. Hours at the gym
7. Games of football
6. Grocery store trips
5. Karate classes
4. Dozen eggs
3. Loaves of bread
2. Dozen tacos
and one on the way