I believe the magic and wonder of Christmas is fully realized through the belief and expression of children. So what happens when they stop believing? First it starts with more questions than usual, skepticism in their eyes as they take my answers. We both know it’s over but neither of us say. And the next year they go through the motions, they write the letters and speak of Santa, partly for their younger siblings and partly because who really wants the magic to end? 

Oliver confirmed my belief in Santa right before he went to bed. I know this is the last year he’ll be dreaming of sugar plums. The best gifts ever received, Lucas surprised Penny and Oliver with Axolotl Squishmallows they had been dreaming of and searching for. I said no, Lucas gave them the sweetest yes.

Oil, our nanny and now family member for the past 14 years, celebrates Christmas morning with us each year. She understands and loves my kids as close to a parent can, and always surprises them with exactly what their hearts desire. 

I will forever cherish the pure joy and innocence of my children’s belief. But I believe what truly makes Christmas magical is love. Love of aunts and uncles, cousins and grandparents, love of others, of a world that is bigger than us and in sharing that love the magic of Christmas will never end.