Agnostic Mom

Right now, while I sit here typing, little Aiden (2 years old) is crying, “Do more, Mommy! Do more!”

Do more what, you might ask? Well, he wants me to do more Christmas!

This afternoon I took all the decorations off the dry, crumbling, can’t-handle-the-Arizona-heat Christmas tree, and put them away. Aiden just asked me, “Where’s the star, Mama?”

“I took it down,” I told him. “Christmas is all done now.”

“No!” He couldn’t believe it. Life begins and ends with Christmas. “There’s more! Do more, Mommy! Do more!”

Last year, when Christmas ended, he asked me for months where Santa went. He loved seeing all the santa’s everywhere: on coffee mugs, on store shop windows, in books we read. He heard his name sung in every store we entered. I knew this was a Christmas-loving boy.

“Where’s Santa?” was the constant question, over and over again while we went from place to place. He continued to sing his two favorite Christmas songs deep into springtime. As summer approached he finally got over it. But now here he is, on my living room floor, staring at the bare, Evergreen, demanding, “Do more!”

How long will this last? Will he ever get over Christmas?

You know, it’s funny . . . today was our dog’s birthday. He is one year old, but he doesn’t know it. I bought him a special treat. It’s a can of liver-flavored squirt-gunk. I filled his kong with it and he devoured it. But he still doesn’t know today is any different from any other day. Dogs are sure different than humans.