It doesn't matter that he doesn't know that it's Christmas.
It doesn't matter that the nativity story makes him smile simply because the sheep have woolly coats and donkeys make very funny noises.
It doesn't matter that his heart doesn't thrill at the miracle of angels and his eyes don't light up with wonder when we sing the soft sounds of 'Silent Night'.
It doesn't matter that a Christmas tree seems no more extraordinary to him than a table lamp or that a carol service seems no more magical than Sunday school.
It doesn't matter that "he's too little to know much about it" or that "he'll enjoy the wrapping more than the presents" and it doesn't matter that won't remember any of it next month or in the years to come.
It matters that we show him the magic of Christmas. Because it matters so much to me.
I'm a brand new mummy discovering the pleasures and pains of staying at home and watching my little boy grow. I like to write, to make things and to wander in the great outdoors. I've created this blog to document my days and capture some of my thoughts before they flit away.