\u201cDial it down please,\u201d said my wife to our 10-year-old daughter. <\/p>\n
\u201cI can\u2019t,\u201d she replied. \u201cIt\u2019s Christmas and I\u2019m really hyper!\u201d<\/p>\n
She didn\u2019t need to point out that obvious fact. She was bouncing off the walls. Riling up the dog. Dancing about. Speaking so fast that she sounded like an auctioneer on fire. I worried that maybe she had stuck her finger in a light socket, or had taken up drinking espresso. <\/p>\n
But no: It\u2019s Christmas!<\/p>\n
When you\u2019re a kid, it\u2019s just about impossible to contain your enthusiasm this time of year. And when you\u2019re a Christmas kid \u2014\u00a0born during the season \u2014\u00a0there\u2019s absolutely no hope. <\/p>\n
That\u2019s exactly what my daughter is: A Christmas kid. Born on Dec. 26. <\/p>\n
In fact, she began her long journey into the world on Christmas morning when my wife\u2019s water broke while we were opening presents. The little child didn\u2019t seem too concerned that we were an hour away from having family over, or that I might want another cup of coffee. (At least she had the decency to drag the labor out and didn\u2019t emerge until the next day.)
\n<\/p>\n
When I tell people what day she was born, their first reaction is a giant gasp followed by hands clapped over their mouths. It is as if they have just seen a plane crash. <\/p>\n
“That poor child!\u201d they remark. \u201cWhy in the world would you do that to her?!?\u201d You can see the look of horror on their faces. That they think this must have been some kind of malicious plot on my part, or an example of what happens when poor planning goes horribly wrong. \u201cEveryone knows it\u2019s 9 months! Couldn\u2019t you count?!?\u201d<\/p>\n
It\u2019s at times like these that I remember the saying of one of my daughter\u2019s pre-school teachers: \u201cYou get what you get and you don\u2019t get upset.\u201d<\/p>\n
Besides, could I have changed a single thing and still ended up with the incredible girl I have today? <\/p>\n
My daughter revels in being a Christmas kid. Soaks up everything about the season. Appreciates it all. There is no more magical time of the year to be born, and I think she sees it as a badge of honor. Something to brag about. Membership in a special club. <\/p>\n
And it is, isn\u2019t it? <\/p>\n
As I look back on that day all those wonderful years ago, I\u2019m reminded that it was the greatest Christmas present I\u2019ve ever received. One that will never be topped. <\/p>\n
So, go ahead and dial it up, child. It\u2019s your season, and there\u2019s much to celebrate. Sometimes the only proper way to do it is talking like an auctioneer and dancing around like your finger is stuck in a light socket. <\/p>\n
Merry Christmas to all \u2026 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
\u201cDial it down please,\u201d said my wife to our 10-year-old daughter. \u201cI can\u2019t,\u201d she replied. \u201cIt\u2019s Christmas and I\u2019m really hyper!\u201d She didn\u2019t need to point out that obvious fact. She was bouncing off the walls. Riling up the dog. Dancing about. Speaking so fast that she sounded like an auctioneer on fire. I worried that maybe she had stuck her finger in a light socket, or had taken up drinking espresso. But no: It\u2019s Christmas! When you\u2019re a kid, it\u2019s just about impossible to contain your enthusiasm this time of year. And when you\u2019re a Christmas kid \u2014\u00a0born during the season \u2014\u00a0there\u2019s absolutely no hope. That\u2019s exactly what my daughter is: A Christmas kid. Born on Dec. 26. In fact, she began her long journey into the world on Christmas morning when my wife\u2019s water broke while we were opening presents. The little child didn\u2019t seem too concerned that we were an hour away from having family over, or that I might want another cup of coffee. (At least she had the decency to drag the labor out and didn\u2019t emerge until the next day.)<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[554,556,8],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1534","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-2016-nutshells","category-holidays","category-parenthoodandchildren"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nutshellcity.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1534","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nutshellcity.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nutshellcity.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nutshellcity.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nutshellcity.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=1534"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.nutshellcity.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1534\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1535,"href":"https:\/\/www.nutshellcity.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1534\/revisions\/1535"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nutshellcity.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1534"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nutshellcity.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=1534"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nutshellcity.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=1534"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}