When you are seven-years-old, waking up at five in the morning on Christmas day is an exciting adventure. Christmas when you’re a kid is not so patiently lying in bed until six, when you know that that’s the real appropriate time to wake up your exhausted parents so you can open gifts. You and your siblings creep down the hallway and will sneak into your parents’ room, jumping on the bed and scream, “Merry Christmas! Did you see what Santa brought!”

You impatiently sit through breakfast, legs bouncing as you steal glances at the Christmas tree, trying to guess what big box is who’s gift.

Christmas when you’re older is a little different. It’s not as glamorous as you always thought it was, but it is a thousand times better. The holidays flash by in an instant, rather than seem to take forever as they did when you counted down the days until winter vacation and Christmas.

Gifts are a lot different too. They don’t really seem to matter as much as they did when you were in middle school and your wish list was filled with all of the cool, overrated things all of your friends were getting, so you had to get them too. Gifts become less about you and more about the people in your life and what’s going to make them happy and really hold meaning to them on the one holiday of the year that’s supposed to be about giving.

I know that my mom couldn't care less about materialistic items under the tree come Christmas morning. Her favorite gift I could ever give her is going to Christmas Eve mass in the same church where she and my dad got married, and sitting by the fire and watching Rudolph with her. She would probably also love if I kept my promise of never letting my room get messy again.

My dad doesn’t want another tool set or something for his car on Christmas day, he wants quality time spent with his children who are growing up and becoming adults way too fast. He probably also wants some peace and quiet, but he can’t always have both with his kids around.

I know my friends are appreciative of just about anything you could think to get them for this gift-exchanging holiday. Food is probably their favorite. Slippers and socks are a close second. All they really want is a good night’s sleep. We’re all broke and working multiple jobs and still struggling through school, so our favorite gift is finally finding the time for all of us to get together on the same night.

As for me, I no longer want toys and gadgets (Okay, maybe some gadgets). I want to spend time with my family. I want to experience Christmas through the eyes of my baby nephew, whose face will light up when he comes through the door Christmas morning. I want to watch the old home movies of my brother locking me in the playroom when I tried to use his stereo from Santa. I want to make breakfast with my mom and see my dad fall asleep with the dogs on his lap. I want to sit at the dining room table with coffee and hot chocolate and hear about everything going on in the family. I want to hear my mom scold me with just my first name and my dad yell at my brother and I to stop being childish and fighting with each other over the last cookie or piece of cake.

As you grow older, the feeling of Christmas stays the same, but the reasons for it change. I am still excited and happy when I wake up Christmas morning, but it’s less about the gifts under the tree and more about the people I get to see and celebrate with.