I remember being very young, about when my younger brother (being 4 years younger than me was probably around 4 or 5 then) and I believed in the Santa Claus.  We believed in that very sweet, doe eyed, innocent way any child that age would.  I remember every Christmas Eve, my dad would be going on talking about something at dinner, stop suddenly, look up at the ceiling and whisper "Did you hear that?  Oh!  There it is again!  I think its Santa!"  and we would giggle and wonder if it was true, and run off to bed quickly because we actually did believe it was true.  Then my brother and I would sneak downstairs and hide under these big arm chairs my parents had (its hard to think of myself as ever that small) and try to see Santa.  We would never make it, and always end up falling asleep.  But oh how exciting it was.  It's one of my most favourite memories I have of my childhood.  

When I look at Bam, I often wonder what her favourite memories will be.  How exciting to watch that unfold.  

In other news, I have been too tired to live my life.  I don't know why.  I am so exhausted. BUT- I managed to create some fun shoes for Bam this last weekend, and this week sometime I will be headed downtown to score some leather scraps to turn into shoes for a quick tutorial.  (AND Christmas presents for Bam, but don't tell her I told you).

xB<3