Last year, when Ryan was six-and-a-half, he made his first request from Santa.  He wanted a DVD, and was ecstatic when he woke up to find that in exchange for a glass of milk and a plate of cookies and carrots, he was left a copy of Frozen.  This year, Ryan has asked for three items (two basketball-related, one a book).

For my son, the holidays are relatively simple.  He does what he’s supposed to do, he continues to be a good listener, he tries his best at school, and he earns a spot on the “nice list.” 

And a spot on the nice list means he wakes up Christmas morning to find the special items he requested wrapped and waiting for him under the tree. 

I love the simplicity of Christmas for Ryan.  The direct cause-and-effect relationship that makes so much sense.  Because it seems like so much in life (my autoimmune disease, random acts of violence) make no sense and have no logic associated with them.

But on Christmas morning, regardless of what is happening around the world or in my body, I will wake up knowing that my son is happy and healthy, and has been justly rewarded for another year of niceness.