I highlighted Christmas Day on our big calendar in the kitchen and some times he would hop up there and point to the sequence of days as if the boxes were a game board and find the shortest distance to Christmas saying, "I want it to go boop, boop, boop, Opa's birthday, Christmas Day." And as the days went on, Opa's birthday even got the boot and it was, "boop, boop, boop, Christmas, and then Opa's birthday." Sorry Opa.
One morning he had again scooted the bar stool up to the calendar and was highlighting every other day in December thinking if it was yellow, then it was Christmas. Sure seems logical (if you're 3).
And always thinking like he does, Bo was very concerned with how Santa was going to get into our house. One night in bed he turned to me and asked, "Mom, Santa comes down the chimney, right?" I answered "yes" and that was that. Then the next night in bed he turned to me again and asked, "Mom, do we have a chimney?" Poor guy had been worrying with that all day. I went on to explain to him that we have a chimney stack on the boiler in the garage but if that didn't work, then he would just come in the doggy door.
But the hardest part for Bo this year was having all the presents under the tree and not being able to peek inside any of them. I finally told him that Santa would not bring him any gifts if he opened any and he had great restraint from then on.
One of the first days the tree was up, he ran and lunged towards the tree. Right as I was yelling, "SAM, NO!" he reached for the stuffed paisley bear ornament and gave it a big kiss. And from that day on, he occasionally hugged and kissed that bear but never bothered anything else. What a sweetie!