Can't Sleep on Christmas Eve

As we were leaving the hotel this morning, a tall distinguished gentleman with white hair and a white beard held the door open for me. I politely said thank you and walked on through with Ed following behind me. Once out on the street he asked me if I had noticed who it was - only Donald Sutherland! (I hadn't). After that excitement, I had to go into the office until lunchtime and Ed headed home to pack the car. We picked the children up from Gran and Papa and set off for Yorkshire. 

Once we'd arrived at Grandma and Grandad's and got settled in, we watched Toy Story 3, tracked Santa's progress using the Norad website (he was over Turkey when we went to bed) and left out the mince pie, glass of port and carrot for the reindeer. But poor Orla just could not get to sleep, she was so excited. And then so worried, because she knew that Santa wouldn't come until everyone in the house was sleeping. Eventually I took the also wide-awake Conor to bed and lay with him until he fell asleep, holding Orla's hand. Thankfully once everyone was sound asleep, Santa came and left the presents!