Instead of tromping through the snow with an axe and mittens to chop down the perfect pine tree, last year Mike bounced over the mountain road to a garden shop and chose the perfect palm. He decorated it with tiny white lights and then we hung the little blue beach chairs that we had used as placecard-holders at our wedding. Voila, a place for Santa to get some shade.
The stockings were hung by the banister with care. We set out pina coladas and coconut cookies as a reindeer snack, and tucked ourselves in to the sound of waves.
Saint Nick arrived by motorboat, not sleigh. He swam up to the house, parked his wetsuit and tank.... no wait, that was the pina colada-induced dream.
Last year's island Christmas was warm and quiet. This Christmas will also likely be warm, but not quiet. I'm trying to change the babies' favorite chorus of "No No No" to "Ho Ho Ho" but so far, no luck. Here's how Delaney greeted Santa this morning at the preschool holiday party:
Hayden was marginally more relaxed, particularly since his own Santa suit was looking so good.
But I guess sitting on Santa's lap is out of the question any time soon.
Tomorrow we fly to Los Angeles to spend two weeks with Papa (another new word) and Grandma (harder to say, hard to abbreviate). Cady will meet us there for one weekend, and my sister Marcet and her family will join us too.
We'll be back on the island right after Christmas to usher in Year Two of our crazy big Caribbean adventure. In the meantime, Twins on an Island will be coming to you from Tinseltown, or quite possibly from one of its many shopping malls.