I’ve had a particularly difficult time getting into the Christmas Spirit this season…

I can’t exactly pinpoint it.  I’d like to blame it on the recent events in San Bernardino, but I don’t think that’s it.  It would be easy to blame it on my busy work schedule, and the disproportionately high number of major decisions I’m balancing at the moment, but I don’t think that’s the lion’s share of it either.

It’s not that our house doesn’t look Christmas-y; we put up the tree and the Christmas lights the day after Thanksgiving, bought most of our presents before December 1st, and have them wrapped and displayed under the tree already.

It’s not that I’m not into Christmas this year, rather, it’s simply that I am having a hard time feeling it.

I woke up well before my alarm this morning, ironically to the sounds of the Nutcracker Suite in my head.  There is so much bouncing around in my mind right now, particularly on the work front, so I figured I would rise before dawn and get an early start on my responsibilities.

Whenever this happens, I run the risk of waking my children up, which kind of defeats the purpose of getting up early to get some work done in a quiet house.

And so, predictably, the aroma of a fresh cup of coffee woke my youngest this morning.  I heard him scurry out into the living room just about the same time as the timer clicked to turn on the lights on the Christmas tree.

For some reason this morning, I chose to embrace the disruption in my carefully planned schedule rather than invite him back to bed.

Our family morning routine consists of me making a cup of coffee when I wake up (mind you, this is a neurotic process that requires a scale, timer, gooseneck kettle, and all of my faculties first thing in the morning).  After the cup of deliciousness is made, I plop onto my favorite overstuffed chair, sip coffee until I’m semi-coherent, and then open my Bible and spend a little time with God.

My boys have seemingly assigned to one another their respective seats in the living room over the years; each has his own preferred spot to sit upon awakening.

My youngest happens to enjoy the same chair as me…

And so this morning, when I turned the corner into the living room, there he was, cuddled up in his blanket, sitting in my morning chair.

I asked him if we could share the space, and so he stood up long enough for me to sit down, then quickly plopped down in my lap.

I took a nice sip of coffee, and then embraced my son, making sure the blanket was covering him completely to buffer him from the cold as the house was still heating up.

We cuddled there in the dark, staring off at the Christmas tree and the stockings hanging over the fireplace.

He asked some questions about Santa, particularly about when families have fires in the fireplace on Christmas Eve, and then posited some theories about how Santa must put out said fires as he comes down the chimneys to deliver gifts.  His assertion was that Santa must use barbeque mittens to snuff out the fire (the same ones that Papa has), and that sounded just about right, I told him.

We continued our conversation, chatting about our upcoming winter vacation in Utah (we should start packing right around December 30th, I was told); we talked about whether he could stay up until midnight on the 24th so he could see Santa (unfortunately, son, Santa has to do his work in secret, but you can stay up until midnight on New Year’s Eve); we talked about a gift for his teacher (he wants to give her some Wild Goose Coffee).

Occasionally I would stick my cold hands down the back of his shirt just to demonstrate the concept of temperature differential.  He would squirm and giggle, and then I would remember how unpleasant the other two are when they wake up before they’re ready, so I would resume the warm cuddling (only to forget minutes later and repeat the cold hands trick).

And so my ambitious work plans went completely out the window, thanks to a just-turned-seven-year-old who still cuddles with his dad, who still ponders the mystery of Santa, and who brightens my day with wonder and joy all the time.

And in that moment, embracing the lights, the wonder, and the warm disruptions of my agenda, I got to experience Christmas for the first time this season…