Today was wonderful. It was the first time that Mathew seemed to understand what was going on with his birthday, and he loved being the centre of attention and he loved diving into his presents. We did think about putting them under the Christmas tree, but then we didn't want to confuse the two occasions, or to put any thoughts into his head about how Father Christmas seems to arrange gifts in exactly the same way mum and dad do... Maybe overthinking that, but overthinking is what we do as parents sometimes, and what I do frequently as an individual. The thing is - moving forwards - we really want his birthday to always be a special, separate event from the Yuletide festivities. I know several people with birthdays at this time of year, and it's so easy for their birthdays to get lost in the general frivolousness of December, forgetting that for the central person involved, it's a different sort of celebration (or should be, at least).
Both my sisters were able to come over as well, which was amazing. We're seeing them next weekend for our Chesworth Christmas Cornucopia of Collective Christmasness, but it's lovely of them to make the effort to see The Special Guy on His Special Day. They lathered him with love and played with him until he was pooped. He went to bed exhausted - after a story from Auntie Sophie - and the rest of us drank tea and chatted until barely half an hour ago. Fantastic.
Mathew may not remember this day in detail, but I sure will. A thoroughly brilliant birthday.
RC 20-12-22
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