The night before Christmas Eve is a very special day. Because after the night before Christmas Eve is Christmas Eve. And after Christmas Eve is Christmas! I can’t believe Christmas is here. Can you? I can. Because on Christmas Day I get to stay with my family and my family is nice. And we all open our presents together. And we all have some hot cocoa and cookies. Sometimes. The end.
“But you’re my mommy. You know everything!” –Stacia
The kiddos are at Camp Grandma so I have a hot date tomorrow night. It should be a fun, relaxing evening on a date that most needs a distraction. It will be nice to have day go by where my only real stress is deciding between the French Maid and the Mrs. Claus lingerie. I’d model so you could decide, but that would break my lifelong rule. Plus, I doubt you want to see a frumpy housewife in her nighties. Although, according to hubby there is a market out there for ordinary.
I’m losing the battle with the daily nap. Stacia ditched hers at 18 months so I should be lucky I’ve gotten this far. Of course, her timing coincided with our move to a new town so I’m sure that had a bit to do with it. The difference here is Brenia is so well behaved* that she doesn’t just ignore her nap and play in (read: trash) her room like Stacia always did. No, she feels terrible that she’s disobeying so she cries. The whole time.
When I finally give up on the nap and tell her to play in her room for a bit. She says OK and stops crying altogether. She’s just completely unable to let go of the nap until permission is granted. Stacia, on the other hand, couldn’t care less what she has permission for and will do what she pleases at all times.
Is it any wonder that we waited 5 years to have our second child? It took me a while to forget the tortured years between giving up naps and kindergarten. At least when this one gives up her nap entirely, I should be able to institute “quiet time” with a child who may actually follow the title.
*This is not sarcasm you hear. It is shock and awe. She is (mostly) a strangely obedient child. I wonder daily where that came from.
Snow! Hooray! It’s that pretty, dusty, Christmasy (I know it’s not a word, dear, get over it!) snow, too! As opposed to the wet, sticky, turn-the-roads-into-mush snow. I was hoping to get some of the fun snow over Christmas break.
Hubby has taken 2 weeks off surrounding Christmas. Stacia has the same two weeks off from school. I was looking forward to some cuddle-on-the-couch time with my family. We’ll do that anyway I’m sure, but it’s so much better when the snow is fluttering outside the window.
Now, if only the snow would motivate me to put up my Christmas decorations instead of encouraging me to burrow under the covers on the couch. Hey, I took the boxes off the shelf in the garage. They haven’t quite made it into the house yet, but Desperate Housewives is on my DVR calling to me so it’s totally not my fault!
- when I glance at the clock and wonder if 6 o’clock is too early for bedtime?
- to sometimes think I was crazy for taking on this whole stay-at-home mom gig?
- to hit snooze in the morning and think she doesn’t really need to go to school today, does she?
- that I just buckled my kids into their grandma’s car for a sleepover, went back into the house, closed the door and breathed a sigh of relief?
Overheard on the phone between Stacia and her friend, Megan:
Megan: Can you come outside?
Stacia: I’m still grounded, which means no outside.
Megan: Well, I really need backup.
Stacia: What?
Megan: Back. Up. It means I need some help out here.
Stacia: Oh, well I can’t come out.
Megan: Zach (her brother) and Brad are being mean to me and I really need someone out there.
Stacia: Well, this is important so I’ll go ask my mom.
This is where I hang up and pretend like I didn’t already here the entire conversation. I also get to play Mean Mom as Stacia reprises her favorite role of Girl in Angst. Drama, drama, drama.
- “Santa loves venison” on a restaurant placard does not make me want to eat there. Instead, I have this creepy vision of Santa lounging by the fireplace with Rudolph’s head mounted above.
- Muncie, Indiana may be a hell hole, but I still like to visit just so I can get on I-69 South to come home.
- 69 Liquors is a really funny name for a store.
- Papa Murphy’s pizza rocks—even if I do have to cook it myself.
- From the bathtub, fireworks exploding from down the street sound a lot like my husband falling off his skateboard onto his ass.
- Wearing pants that you grab from a stack of clothes needing returned because they were too small will make you so happy that you will not bother to yell at aforementioned hubby for not drying your jeans when you asked him very nicely.
- This is very helpful if you already yelled at him for 11 minutes on the phone earlier in the day because he invited his mother to dinner.