When I order these bad boys, it will be official that I’ve given up on life.
I had the tv on in the bedroom while putting on makeup this past weekend and heard this infomercial. I thought it was a joke so I leaned into the room to see the screen. Sadly, it is no joke. Coming to a pathetic person near you, the Pajama Jean.
After a long, but fun weekend with family and friends, we decided that we needed to take down a few Christmas decorations. The two “live” wreaths are very dead, the red roses are done too and a few other things needed to go. So we started absent-mindedly removing a few things with the goal of taking it all down next weekend over New Years. As we both separately worked on our projects we would say “I’m going to do the manger too” or “I think I’ll take off the ornaments and we’ll do the tree next weekend….”.
Before we knew it, it was all down. It was packed and the boxes were awaiting transport back to the storage unit. Christmas was done.
Normally, I am elated when all the clutter and mess is gone. I love it through Christmas, but shortly after, I start feeling itchy at all the extra stuff in our house and get the very strong urge to get it out. But this year, I am struck with the fact that I miss the tree. I want the warm glow of it back…but I know by mid-week I will be deep into cleaning out closets, the garage and kitchen cabinets, behind all the furniture and the ceiling fans. And by next weekend, I’ll be ready to welcome winter / spring and will be into planting bulbs and a delicious new garden.
But for now, I miss the tree.
BTW – these are only the “pretty” ornaments. I didn’t get a pic of it fully decorated…sniff…
I have a very large family and we get together often. But they’re almost all informal and involve food that doesn’t require utensils and paper plates. But for the holidays, we like to get a little fancier. The problem is that collectively, we have enough plates, silverware and cloth napkins for everyone. But alone, we come up short. So for each holiday there is a parade of items that travels from one house to the host house for use. I’ve pillaged my mom’s supplies for so many years of Thanksgiving’s and Easter’s, I don’t even need a list of what I need to borrow and she usually just has it all out for me. 10 plates, the spare silverware, serving pieces, bake ware, a table-cloth or two and always the really pretty folding chairs all make their way to our house. It’s not that I don’t have these items myself, it’s that I don’t have enough for 18 people and 5 kids.
This Christmas is no exception. The folding chairs are in the back of the car already. Linen napkins too. My pretty silver shell dish is awaiting shrimp cocktail for Christmas morning and a spare “giant” table-cloth (we describe the length of the various table cloths that my mom and I own not in feet, but by the length of the table. I.E. “with one leaf in or with all three leafs in”. We have really big tables) is ready to go. And so the parade of items makes its way back across town. It just wouldn’t feel like the holidays if someone wasn’t walking in with chairs under one arm.
There are many lessons that Baylie has taught me. The two latest ones I’m still working on…
First, I’ve learned that I cannot rattle off a list of things we’re going to do anymore. I got into the habit of thinking out loud when Baylie was little. I read somewhere that it was good for their verbal skills or something. Now, it’s just a habit. I tend to list out the next things on our list like “Ok, lets pick up the toys, wash our hands and then we’ll get some dinner”. While this doesn’t seem like a big deal, to a kiddo who loooves to climb the stool to the sink in the bathroom, turn on the water and then splash around, this is music to her ears. She doesn’t hear the order of the tasks to be completed, all she hears is “TIME TO PLAY IN THE WATER!!!!”. Which results in her running away while my back is turned and helping herself to a sink full of fun.
Second, I cannot say a negative direction. Meaning, saying “Don’t spit out that carrot!” will result in her spitting out the carrot because I have said the word “spit” (I would like to thank Daddy for teaching her that one. Yes, Peter, it is important for her to spit out the toothpaste, however, she spits out EVERYTHING!!). Instead, I have to say “Please chew and swallow what is in your mouth” in order to avoid a deluge of partially chewed veggies.
Lastly, no matter how many times I try to sound out a word and ask her to repeat it, she will always say “da da”. Duh-uck = da da. Treee = da da. Airplane = air pane. Oddly, that’s the one she knows, can say and identify. Sigh…
I have learned a lot from designing, writing, assembling, stuffing, stamping, sealing and addressing Christmas cards. Here are the highlights:
1. I am totally inept when it comes to accurately assessing how many cards I need.
2. No matter how many cards I think I need, I will always have more or less than what I need.
3. Putting a very cute picture of Baylie on the card only requires more work on my part.
4. The post office and the card people are in cahoots – 10 stamps in a book, 15 cards in a box.
5. 60 pictures centered and taped to cards, 60 envelopes stuffed and addressed (5 of which are still outstanding due to moved addresses) and the taste of envelope adhesive on my tongue = we need less friends.
The out takes from getting the picture for our card. Note the marker, angel from the nativity scene, my phone and yes even the camera were used to get her to A. smile, B. pose in a way that wasn’t weird and C. hold still long enough to get a good picture. The winner was actually a little soft, but it met criteria A and B so it wins!
The Goon Room 