Every year I know that if anyone rolls out of bed before mom, we'll miss all the excitement.
One of the first things I found was a note to "The Coffees" from Santa on the stool where we left his chocolate chip cookies and milk.
As busy as ole' St. Nick is, he still took the time to stop and visit me at work and leave us a note saying thank you for the cookies.
I found it rather odd that Santas writing looked identical to my oldest son, Daymonds. But I just dismissed this as a crazy coincidence and went on with my morning.
Before long the sleepy eyed little monsters started making their way down the stairs one at a time.
Let the somewhat organized chaos begin!
As I sat there and watched the boys open their video games and the girls their Barbie dolls, I started thinking about Christmas's when I was a kid.
Every year until I turned about 14, my big brother Tim and me, always slept in the same bed on Christmas eve. It's just too exciting not to share it with someone!
He always built a wall between us out of pillows and he only had one rule. "You stay on your side and I'll stay on mine."
He was scared to death I would touch him. Eeewwww! But even more afraid that I would pee on him. I had a slight problem with bedwetting. (You'll all be glad to know that I finally got control of my bladder issues).
There were times that we would be in bed by 8:00 because time goes by a lot faster when you're sleeping. We talked and talked (mostly I talked) until Tim would finally tell me to "SHUT UP and GO TO SLEEP!"
Growing up in the Zimmerman household, we had one major Christmas rule.
Rule: NEVER pick up, pat, stare at closely, or guess what may be in that big box that says, To: Jenny, on it.
If we ever did happen to guess, Dad flipped out! He hated it when we knew what we were getting and the surprise was ruined. I see myself carrying on that trait. I absolutely hate it when the kids guess what their gifts are.
While watching the ripped paper fly through the air and the kids showing each other what they got, I started reminiscing.
Every year for about 12 years, my best friend Dawn and I would call each other as soon as our last gift was opened. We just had to share our excitement.
It's so funny because its been about 15 years since we've done that but I still catch myself thinking, "I wonder what Dawn got this year."
For some reason, the only gift that really sticks out in my head from my childhood is this horribly ugly, blue, sweatshirt. With a cat appliqué on the front if it! Of all things. A cat! I'm not even a cat person!
What was my mom doing? Trying to get me beat up?! I already had a mullet. She might as well have stuck a sign on my forehead that said "Punch me...HARD."
That's the only gift I remember getting that I hated. But for some reason, that's the only gift I remember getting...EVER!
So I now know, as a mom NOT to get my kids ugly sweatshirts, and not to give them mullets! Because they'll never forget it! Thanks again Mom.
Hope you all had a very Merry Christmas!
Happy New Year!
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