The other day, she came running in and jumped on the rocking recliner in Peyton's soon-to-be-room. She announced "Look, Mom! I'm rocking in a winter wonderland!"
Last week, we tried to get Sam to learn "Silent Night" (I figured we'd get some religion in her, since I overheard her singing "Santa Baby, hurry down the chimney tonight"). She watched us quizzically and when we got to "Sleep in Heavenly Peace," exclaimed "Oh! It's the song from the sleeping baby commercial!" Yeah, you know the Pampers commercial with all the sleeping infants? Yes, it makes me cry, but I cried for a whole different reason upon hearing my beautiful daughter know a great Christmas classic only by its affiliation with a product. We're working on learning about the true meaning of Christmas now. Diapers are good, but the Savior's birth is more important. Never thought I'd have to actually say that.
Sam gathered me around the tree and explained to me how she thinks Christmas morning works, but she managed to mix up most of our traditions in what turned out to be a hilarious and very detailed little plan of hers. I've included the "real" information in brackets for you. "On Kissmas morning, we open my chocolate calendar [the advent calendar is done by the 24th], and come to the tree to find the pickle [hey, that's true]! Mommy will hide it [not true, Santa hides the pickle ornament]. When I find the pickle, THEN I get to open this polka dot present [Not true, whoever finds the pickle gets a special present from Santa, but it is certainly not one wrapped already under the tree]! And then I will get a ladybug pillow pet [Let's hope she gets her wish--the only request Sam has made of Santa has been a ladybug pillow pet. It's a pillow. It's a pet. It's a pillow pet. My husband is appalled that she asked for what is essentially just a bed pillow (and that it happened to cost more than all the other actual TOYS we got her), but it's her Christmas wish. Never underestimate the power of a catchy jingle directly on the heels of a Dora the Explorer episode]" To further complicate matters, I finally looked at the tag for that darn polka dot present she's so excited about--turns out it's from my parents and to her little brother. Seeing as he doesn't exist outside the womb yet, I'm more than happy to let her do the opening, but I doubt she will be excited to find what is probably very small, very boyish clothing that she then has to hand over to Mommy for Peyton. This Christmas, Sam is getting her first dose of sibling rivalry--and the sibling doesn't even show up until February. Ho ho ho!
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