I have to add to Jim's story of Christmas morning to give my two cents. I was so excited about Katie's first Christmas really being aware of Christmas and the presents. It was going to be awesome, I thought. The days leading up to Christmas should have warned me. She came down with a fever a few days prior to Christmas and had to get regular doses of Motrin to feel kind of normal.
The days leading up to Christmas and Christmas Eve we made a big deal about Santa coming to our house and bringing presents and filling our stockings. They gave her a bag of oats to sprinkle on the lawn to feed the reindeer (we actually forgot to do this because she was too sick to go to church on Christmas Eve and I was singing "O Holy Night" at the 7:30 service. Grandma talked to Katie about waking up in the morning and waiting until she saw light outside to wake up Mommy and Daddy. We thought we were prepared.
Christmas morning she came in to wake us up, not excited as we expected but sobbing and terrified (and feverish). Why was she sobbing on Christmas morning you say? "I don't want Santa to come to my house!" (sob, sob) "Why not, honey? It's fun to have Santa come to your house! He brings presents and fills your stocking with candy. Don't you want chocolate in your stocking?" "I don't want Santa to come to my house!" (sob) "Let's go downstairs and see what he brought you. Maybe he brought that dollhouse you asked for!" "NO!" (Hysterics ensue.)
After a little bit of this, we finally discerned that she didn't want to go downstairs and she didn't want Santa to come to her house because she thought Santa would still BE here. Alas, after lots of reassurance (and time for the Motrin to start working), she consented to let me carry her downstairs to see what Santa had brought her. Once she saw for herself that Santa was not here, she got down from my arms and got into the spirit of Christmas like I had hoped.
It ended up being a truly awesome Christmas, despite its inauspicious beginning.
Next up...present opening and picture overload!