Boy, Christmas is kicked the heck off. My mom made it through the snow between here and the Upper Peninsula and spent the afternoon playing with the girls. After one good killer glare at the newcomer, Vivi, bless her little preverbal heart, happily ran all around the playroom with her, eagerly ah-hah-ing her assent to any new activity.
Julia was consumed by the advent of the holiday. She's still trying to figure out just when "Christmas" will occur, being a little stymied by the whole "eve" idea. And but so, she was elated by every little sign that Christmas is pretty much underway: a cookie for dessert, showing Grandma the tree, enjoying the cheese-ball "Elmo's Christmas Countdown" show. She didn't understand half of it, but she did like the songs and the basic story of Elmo saving Christmas. On the downside, she was actually worried when one of the characters said that Christmas was in danger of being canceled.
Julia celebrated Elmo's heroism (and unwound from the unprecedented stimulation of an unbroken hour of TV) by singing a few few carols in her bed. After a good thirty minutes of this, she called for me, and when I went up to her room, she said simply, "Daddy, I can't sleep. Sing me a lullaby." I sang (or at least recited) "Silent Night" (this being a song she considers a lullaby for "the baby Jesus"), kissed her on the head, left, and heard no more.