Christmas Strife

I've got a problem. My quest to seek out the ultimate gifts for my children leaves me a nervous wreck, stressed out and hopeless.

I know what you're thinking. They're too young to care. But I care. I want to be the hero on Christmas morning who sought after and found the perfect, most amazing gift my two-year-old could ever possibly imagine.

Of course I know that it doesn't really matter what I buy, it will always be the most innocuous gift he receives that will win over his heart. But despite this knowledge, I can't help but obsess about this decision every year.

His first Christmas brought this:

And although we did get one hilarious picture out of it, I'm pretty sure his friend Noah has since gotten much more enjoyment out of it than Liam ever did.

Then last year he received all things Thomas the Tank Engine. And while he loves his trains now, on Christmas morning he was so tired an crabby when he woke up that the sight of new presents under the tree thrilled him about as much as a trip to the dentist thrills me.

So this year, I am determined. On Christmas morning Liam will see this. Because on a recent trip to the children's museum, he spent most of his time doing this:

I'm sure I've (or, ahem, Santa) hit it out of the ballpark this year.

But I'm still not saved. Now I need to find a way to dazzle and amaze my 4-month-old. And if you didn't know, that's easier imagined...in dreams...than accomplished. It was going to be this. Then was changed to this. But has now become this (because I saw it in a magazine).

And so my search continues. Relentlessly, though maybe not entirely fruitfully.

Ho, Ho, Ho.