I’m Dreaming of a Chocolate Christmas

The Advent Calendar is a huge hit in our house. Not only does it reinforce number recognition for Monkey Man (contrary to what this blog might sometimes otherwise reflect, I try really hard to be a good mom and teach him things – Noggin doesn’t know everything), but it also provides chocolate. Everyday. I’m such a good mom that I let Monkey Man have the chocolate, I don’t even beg him for it. Mom of the Year Award goes to me. Thank you!

So every morning, I round up the children (Monkey Man, husband, and Walt – the dog) and we retell the Christmas story. The one where the Wise Men bring chocolate to Baby Jesus. You know that one, right? Actually, it’s the story of how every day that we open one of the little paper doors we get just a little closer to PRESENTS! SANTA! SANTA bringing me PRESENTS! Sorry, that was Monkey Man. He just jumped on my lap and started typing.

Hubby and I do actually talk to Monkey Man about Christmas and it's meaning. Of course, he’s 3, so the gift thing is outweighing the birth of our Savior thing right now. And the chocolate? Well, that’s running a close second to the presents. So much so, that the other morning Monkey Man asked me:
"When are we going to open the chocolate calendar?”