The Fifty Day Of Advent

Last year my mom wrapped 24 Christmas books and gave them to the boys to open and read one per night in December until Christmas day arrived.  Katie and I took turns reading the books to them before bedtime.  I think Katie took more turns.  Possibly a lot more turns, but it's not like we were keeping score or anything.

This year, the boys alternate nights choosing a book from the now opened collection to have Katie read to them.  I was curious how anxious they would be to hear re-runs of last year's books; the answer is very anxious.  They've willingly taken their baths a half hour earlier each night, watched one pre-bedtime television show instead of two, and reduced my traditional hug, squeeze and kiss time to a token fist pump as they race by me on the way to settling into their beds for reading time. 

It's a sacrifice I happily make.

I love that they find magic in books.  And I'm grateful they have a mama who encourages them to find that magic.  There's few opportunities to better see a child's sense of Christmas than walking in and catching the look in their eyes as they stare into the pages of a Christmas book.