Each year, Christmas seems to creep closer and closer into November, infiltrating the cornucopia centerpieces with silver bells and gingerbread scented candles. While I love giving thanks for Squanto's farming lessons and stuffing my face with cornbread dressing until I no longer can (because I've eaten it all), I adore Christmas. It's shiny and magical and it's impossible not to smile while listening to Christmas carols by a twinkling tree, drinking hot chocolate, and watching George Bailey stumble through the snow until he realizes how precious finding petals in his pocket really is.
So, even though we have yet to celebrate the day of thanks, the family headed to Stone Mountain Park this weekend to walk among the twinkling lights, roast s'mores by the fire, and most importantly, watch C meet Santa for he very first time.
We waited in line for what seemed like hours (but was realistically somewhere around 45 minutes) for what I was sure would be a picture of C screaming in a strange man's lap. We made our way to the front of the line, stripped down C's layers to find her adorable Christmas dress (thanks, Aunt Ryan) and optimistically placed her in Santa's lap. She turned around slowly, touched his fuzzy sleeves, and smiled so big! What a fun surprise!
It really was such a fun night. Cheesy? Yes. But, so wonderful. After our visit with Santa, we grabbed some dinner, enjoyed some s'mores, and boarded the train where we sang Christmas carols and listened to the story of Christmas. C was wide eyed well past her bedtime, taking it all in. The night ended with fire works and C finally closed her little eyes as we walked to the car. This will definitely be a new family tradition.