Simply Christmas

I made it. Not just through a week of solo parenting while Husband went to Israel, but to Christmas Eve. And there's a tree up (which I almost thought wouldn't happen), presents wrapped, and most everyone's pajamas made. And I'm twelve weeks and still puking with regularity. My goals for the rest of the year have been accomplished. I've given up on trying to get the front door painted or the rest of the tile.

Things have been scaled back to survival mode as far as activities and Christmas fun this year because of his trip and my being down, but Husband thinks this might be his favorite so far. I have been reminded that my kids are so young and so naive in some ways that they have no clue what they might be 'missing'. My kids aren't on Pinterest or FB. Is there any hope that we have moved on from social media before they get there? Zombie apocalypse? Global warming? Anything but Scrunch on FB.

For now they don't know about the fortysevenhundred different shaped and sprinkled Holiday cookies and personalized, printable cocoa mug labels you can find tutorials for. They were beyond THRILLED with going to the grocery store with their Papa to get me a drink to come home and have a picnic of donuts and Diet Coke in the front yard. They weren't anything but plain-shaped run of the mill donuts but in their minds it should become a tradition.

We didn't make it to any parades or light show extravaganzas, but Porkchop is learning the difference between 'left' and 'right' by updating us all on where to look and see the lights as we drive. He was in complete overload when we drove to the San Francisco Airport to pick up their Papa. I might be raising a country boy since he thought the usual city lights were all for Christmas. We might need to get out more.

Our Christmas miracle occurred when I puked in his Cars tool bucket while stuck in traffic on the Bay Bridge. And then Juju gagged on a piece of ice she was sucking on and threw up. Porkchop watched and then he started gagging. The miracle being that even though it took us almost four hours to get home, I didn't have to shampoo any carpets when we finally did.

Husband pointed out that for at least Porkchop and Juju their concept of time is such that they won't remember we didn't have our tree up three weeks ago, only that there was a tree. But I'll always remember Porkchop standing in front of it today and telling me, "Mom, our tree is the very most perfect." Big deal too since pronouncing an 'f' sound mid-word is a huge effort for him.

I rallied last night and we went out for Mongolian Barbecue and to the zoo. We celebrate all birthdays with Mongolian barbecue and apparently that includes Jesus. The zoo trip was killing like four birds with one stone- animals, lights, Santa, and a train ride. Plus, animals that are usually sleeping every. single. time. we've ever been to that zoo were wide awake. Juju's disappointment in the zoo came when she begged "Let him out! Let him out!" to the wolf hybrid and I did not oblige. We stopped for some last minute stocking stuffers on the way home. I'll go to the grocery store later to pick up the salmon and asparagus we'll have for tomorrow's dinner (at the kids' request) and we'll call it a Merry Christmas!

I was reading some old posts from when I was pregnant with Porkchop. I completely forgot how sick I was. It all came back to me in flashbacks of late night 'Say Yes to the Dress' marathons and living on the couch. This is worse. It feels so wrong that feeling this bad could mean that this pregnancy is healthy. The good news is that in three years I won't have any recollection of it.

Last Thursday I posted a picture of some yarn and pizza I made. It wasn't even good yarn (my first with my new spinning wheel) or pretty pizza (although it was pretty dang good) with the caption "Take that Thursday!". It prompted a couple of very flattering comments which, while very nice, made me feel....not guilty...not bad...but maybe... uncomfortable? Perhaps undeserved.

I posted the 'Take that!' because the rest of the week completely kicked my butt.When I post a picture of my newly decorated living room, I'm not posting a picture of the same laundry pile that moves from my bed to the recliner, bed to recliner day after day waiting to be folded. If I say I spent the day cooking freezer meals, it's because if I don't my family will likely eat Subway three times a week. I sit and make yarn right now because it's the only thing I can do to distract myself from the feeling of simultaneously starving and wanting to puke at the same time. There weren't any pictures of cute ballet flats with skinny jeans and cozy winter sweaters because at that point I'd been in leggings and my slippers for three days. Oh, yes I'm amazing, but I also have a Christmas tree under six inches of snow leaning up against the house because I can't find our tree stand. We both have a vague memory of leaving or ditching it at some point during the move, but can't explain how or where. I didn't post a pic of our newly decorated tree because it's almost mid-December and except for the paper chains hanging in the kitchen doorway there is no semblance of the Merry Holiday anywhere to be found in my house. 

Don't get me wrong, I work hard. Really, really hard. I wake up early, go to bed late. I have ADD and need a project (or eight) to keep me moving forward or I just spin in circles. I don't watch t.v. or get my nails done, or have a gym membership. Not anything against those things, they just take time. And I spend my time doing different things. I have talents, sure. So does everyone. They might be nicer and less snarky than I'm prone to be. So, am I amazing? Maybe sometimes. Some people think so. But so is everyone else which means you're probably pretty amazing too.

At 7:27 p.m. all three kiddos willingly went to bed. Willingly! Sweet. By 8:13 p.m. I guesstimate that I will have fallen asleep during the opening scenes of P.S. I Love You. Before that happens though I need.....
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Excuse me. My seemingly perfect evening was interrupted by Husband kicking me out of the recliner to rock a suddenly not so willing Juju and then Porkchop came down the stairs. "You going to come up and cuddle wif me?"

And then Scrunch heard Porkchop ask me a question so she climbed on the other side of the bed, but only after taking Jango (the dog) down to the utility room because he kept sniffing and tickling Porkchop. Then they both needed a refill of waters. After a half hour of baking between the two not sleeping monkeys I kicked myself out of the bed with a, "Mommy's got to go downstairs. I think I'm going to throw up." I left the room with both kids making puking and gagging sounds.

Turkeys. But cute turkeys who are doing their absolute darndest to not be sassy or say "stupid", "crybaby", or "shut-up" (Thank you Finding Nemo) because they really don't want to lose all their paperclips (I couldn't find my button jar) so they can go to the movie on Saturday. A movie with popcorn in the theater- that is the ultimate bribery, I mean positive reinforcement, for eliciting more of the behavior I'd like to see. Smart turkeys.