Christmas on the Farm...and My Own Five-Year-Old Christmas Wish

Tuesday, December 13, 2016


So completely unrelated to the above picture, but as I sit here sipping my hot chocolate I came to the conclusion that I might not mind working at Starbucks during the holidays. You guys...Christmas music is playing (and I already spotted a few customers bobbing their heads along), there are little fake trees with adorable little Starbucks ornaments, and everyone just seems so dang happy. Like..."Thanks for coming in!" And you almost want to say, "You're welcome! You are SO welcome to enjoy my presence. And a happy festivus to you!" If someone comes out wearing a Santa I might just lose freaking my mind. (In the good way of mind-loss.)

Oh gosh. Oh gosh. For real, a worker just came out with a bag full of toys to be donated to a kids charity group. You guys....send my husband. Send my kids. I might not leave this place.


Moving on...somehow.

We were invited by our favorite little farm down the road, Petersen Family Farm, for a night of fun, and it was almost perfect (aside from the huge freak-out our kids had when they spotted a cat.) We started the night by visiting Santa, and guys, he was just the sweetest Santa. Although, I feel like the Santas nowadays have gone a bit soft. When I was little, I remember my heart racing as I waited in line, and then Santa always asking very firmly, very seriously, "Have you been a good little girl this year?" It was like he was asking my very soul if it had been good that year. It was THE most important question of the year, and I felt like if I lied he would see right through me and give me nothing but coal. Yes, Santas back then knew better. I'm pretty sure a ton of kids could get away with anything today and Santa would be fooled. So, yeah. Kids of 2016- consider yourselves lucky.

After S visited with Santa, I asked her what she told me. She responded by giving me a look and said, "Mom. I can't tell you. It was just for Santa." 

Moms...always putting their noses where they don't belong, right? (Sheepish.)


Now that I think of it, my earliest Santa memory was the when I asked Santa for a "Dance Magic Barbette." I couldn't say "Barbie" for the life of me, but somehow I had no problem saying "Barbette." You guys, I LOVED that Barbette. If you have no idea what I'm talking about, I found a picture of her HERE. Just looking at the picture reminds me of all the times I would sit and comb her hair and don't even get started on her color-changing lips. Also, for a second, I am reminded how much alike S and I are. She would go crazy over a Dance Magic Barbette, too. (And if you can imagine how much I enjoyed this doll, you should have seen me with Hollywood Hair Barbie. Talking about losing my collective mind. I styled and sprayed the crap out of that doll's hair. It's a wonder why I am useless at doing my own daughter's hair.) 


After visiting with Santa we took a ride in a covered wagon lit up with sparkly lights as we bundled up under blankets, listened to a Christmas story and sang Jingle Bells. The kids were especially good at ringing their bells while they sang...they've been getting in some extra practice lately.


We ended the night by warming up with some delicious hot chocolate. This hot chocolate was really unique, and I was actually pretty confused when I saw it. We were handed a cup of warm milk, and then chocolate + marshmallows that were on a wooden stick. You would then stir the chocolate into the hot milk until it melted. And voila! 

Thanks for the fun night, Petersen Family Farm! And thanks for letting me take a tiny detour down Christmas memory lane.

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