As a little girl, before the age of DVD players and OnDemand Christmas shows, I waited eagerly for the one night that Frosty the Snowman or Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer would be on tv. Over time, as toys were replaced with books, and books with boys, and boys with life. Frosty and Rudolph were of the past. Yet every year, my grandma would call on some random night, a few days before Christmas, to say - "Frosty's on!" I'd turn it on maybe for a few minutes, but why watch something I've seen 15 or 20 times before? So I'd move on.
Last year, both shows were on later than the kids' bedtime, so I dvr'd them. Connor would ask to watch the shows, but around February, we needed the space. He hadn't asked for awhile, so they were deleted. Out of the blue, every so often, he'd ask if we could watch one, but I told him we had to wait until Christmas. In November, when the Black Friday toy ads were abundant, he saw both movies advertised for $5 each. I had Keith pick them up, and they've been a big hit.
With all the hustle and bustle of Christmas, the cookies to make, the cards to send, the presents to buy, I admit to turning on my Christmas music a little earlier than normal. But whenever Frosty the Snowman by Jimmy Durante or Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer by Gene Autry would come on the radio, I'd turn it off because hey, I'm tired of that song. It's an old one that is over-played on the local Christmas station.
But Christmas this year seems different. The kids are so in awe of everything Christmas. On Thanksgiving night, we drove around for almost an hour, trying to find just one more house with their Christmas lights already glowing. The kids gasped in delight at the twinkling lights, and kept their eyes "peeeeled" for more. At the Polar Express, we had to stop ourselves from shushing them - their shouts of happiness at seeing the lighted displays, running while yelling - Mommy! Daddy! More lights! It's Santa! It's penguins!
Yesterday on the way to school, Frosty came on the radio. Connor asked me to turn it up. He sang along, and knew all the words.
Just like I do.
But what was lost in me, the childlike innocence that some say can never be replaced, found it's way out of the secret place where it had been locked inside my heart.
Today, while on my way to work, the song came on the radio again. I immediately thought of Connor's sweet voice.
I turned up the radio and with the heart of a five year old, I sang along.