I have a friend who has children who are grown. The wisdom in starting early is that when you are young enough to enjoy it, the kids are gone. She emailed me, said it was 1:00 pm and she had nothing to do but knit. The house was clean, the dinner was prepped, the kids were gone. She asked me about our day, and this is my reply:
1:00 in the morning the parade begins, little children in stocking feet to check and see what Santa may have brung. Shuffle, shuffle, sneaky feet, as the creep by my room loud as elephants in heat.
2:00 things start to wind down, children tucked snug in their beds, as visions of sugar plums dance in their heads.
3:00 one more check to see if the ho ho ho on the street was Santa stopping by for a quick slice of meat. (Seriously, that is what the excuse was, they wanted to know if Santa wanted cold cuts.)
4:00 Everyone settled, mommy finally can sleep. Children threatened with cancelations if they utter a peep.
6:30 It is light out, time to awake.
6:31 Gifts all open, children crying, why isn't there more? This is not what I wanted. My Christmas is ruined. Oh, why don't you love me?
7:00 All settled down to look over Mommy's credit card bill to show that she spent more than she should so they would have their fill.
10:30 Brunch with family, come one come all. Brother David winds up the children and watches them fall.
11:30 Grandma has had it, take your kids and your stuff and get out of here. We all leave, mostly out of fear.
1:00 House is cleaned, preparing for more, dinner will bring them all ringing at the door.
2:30 Return home from the park, all is better. Sunshine...
3:00 The dinner for 15 is now down to 5, we think left-overs rather than roast and all that jive.
My friend's response: This is why some animals eat their young.