Dude, my house is a WRECK. Seriously, my mother-in-law would have a conniption fit
if she walked in here right now. Thank God South Africa is a really
long walk from here.
We spent yesterday getting ready for the big guy, baking cookies and making food for the reindeer. Feeding the reindeer is right up there at the top of my Favorite Christmas Shit list. We made food for them from oatmeal, some left-over cereal, raisins, brown sugar, cinnamon bark and pralines. Yumma. Nummy.
Then, it was cookie time. You know how I'm all 'I can't bake cookies' and you are all 'Pshaw, I totally know
you can'? You are WRONG. I made Shortbread cookies, the easiest cookies in the known universe, for the kids to frost and even busted out my fancy cutters. This is how they turned out.
They aren't just burnt; I managed to melt
them. We scraped that idea, and thank Baby Jesus (who's home now
, by the way) that mom keeps a box of mini-eclairs in the freezer. Santa got some gourmet shit from us last night.
After the milk was poured and sweet faces were made,
the kids were off to bed and I wrapped like I've never wrapped before. Like it was 1999. Like a virgin. You get it. (No Molly, I haven't killed the hamsters yet. Patience, dude.) That closet full of presents turned into a pile of boxes so large, I wished I had a bigger tree. And I have a big motherfucking tree.
It seems that Santa found his way into the living room, but perhaps went a little too heavy on the eggnog last night.
The chair over-turned, the cold, blank stare at the ceiling....I know drunk when I see drunk. For shame, Santa, for shame
I got to bed at 1:30, and at two o'clock in the gosh darn morning, those boys woke up. I think the only thing I managed to say to them was, "Um, NO." They were back up at 7 this morning and the mayhem ensued.
Santa, I kid you not, brought the left side of the mall to my house last night. Every kid got the thing they wished most for. 1of3 got his iPod and some very cool Olympics schwag
(half off at Please Mum right now, Canucks!). 2of3 got an iCoaster, which I rolled my eyes at fairly hard, but soon realized was Wicked. Cool.
He also got a Power Tour electric guitar, because no 7 year old can have too many guitars. (We're at 3 right now. Yikes!)
Oh, and they both got scratch tickets in their stockings. Because that's how Santa rolls around here, that's what. 2of3 won $9, which is like $9.17 American, or 3 jawbreakers.
We tried, repeatedly, to get the baby out of her bed, but she just groaned at us and rolled over, back to sleep. She slept until 10:15. Which rocked. She got up, played with her dollhouse and Dora toys, clomped about in her high heeled shoes and refused to open any more presents. She still has one under the tree right now.
Dad got clothes and golf stuff and some more clothes and did I mention golf stuff? Thank god his kids are more creative than Santa, and got him an Avalanche jersey and a shining new crazy hot pair of skates. When in Rome
Me? Oh, I got everything
. It's almost embarrasing. We'll get to that later.
And then we failed miserably to clean up, I cooked a little (a freaking ton) and the kids tried to break each other's toys. We talked to the family, all of them, Josh's and mine, which killed me simply because I want to be home with them so bad it aches, and even Gramma in Africa, and then there was dinner.
And that is a story for another day. And a different color scheme. Right now, I have to try and find my floor. Merry Christmas to you all!
Labels: Holidays and such