Monday, December 28, 2009

C.H.R.I.S.T.M.A.S.

C = CHAOS. Total. Complete. Chaos.

H = HAPPINESS. Sheer happiness reflected on the faces of my two little boys and in Grandma's eyes whenever the boys gave her snuggles. And, HAIR. You see, my hubby absolutely loves it when my hair is short. I know. Weird, right? Turns out he's a neck man, so he loves it when my hair is really short and he can see my neck. Anyway, on the 24th, when he was working, I got all my hair chopped off as an early Christmas present for him. He loves it. I kinda hate it, and my 5 year old begged me to make it long again. But, my sweetie loves it, and it was his present, afterall. So, I get good wife points.

R = RUNNING. The endless, constant running of my two little boys. Running to the tree. Running down the hall. Running out to the kitchen. Running back down the hall. Running into the living room to launch themselves onto Grandma or Grandpa's lap. Running back down the hall....And, RUM. Rum and nutmeg in the eggnog. Rum in hubby's coke. Rum. Yeah. That works, too.

I = IMAGINING. Imagining how much calmer next Christmas will be, when we have a fully-functioning kitchen and a washer and dryer and are not battling water damage in the subfloor while trying to install new laminate with a house full of people over the holidays. SIGH.

S = SANTA, of course. The boys were SO excited about Santa this year. They drew the cutest pictures for him, and they were stoked that he ate the cookies and gave the carrots to his reindeer. Santa was a big, big hit this year.

T = TOY STORY. Spencer got a stuffed Buzz Lightyear and Foster got a stuffed Woody. These were, by far, the most loved and appreciated gifts of all. However, this Christmas, "T" must also stand for TABOO, as in the board game. Why? Because my Dad is one of the most reluctant game-players in the world, even though the rest of the family loves to play games. It's like pulling teeth to get him to play a card game or board game with any of us. But...A couple of glasses of wine, some pleading looks with big, sad, eyes, and he was in. And, we all had a blast. Even dear ol' Dad. I have proof. On videotape. He was laughing his head off, along with the rest of us. Great times!

M = MOMS. Mine, doing her best to take care of me. Me, doing my best to take care of everybody else. There's nothing like Mom love. Nothing. Fierce. Exhausting. All-consuming. Awesome.

A = ANN. OK, technically I saw my friend, Ann, the Sunday before Christmas. But, it was an awesome kick-off to Christmas week. Ann has known me forever. She knows more about me than anyone else, including my husband. We met at some outlet stores half-way between our homes to do a little last-minute Christmas shopping without our kids, and it was glorious. A wonderful day, capped off with huge hamburgers, a pitcher of beer, and, of course, a trip to Dairy Queen, just to make it complete. What a great day. It felt like a vacation. Truly.

S = SLEEP? No, didn't get much of that. SEX? Nope, perimenopause and too much wine took care of that little issue. I'm going to have to go with SHARING. Sharing what? Sharing precious and fleeting time with my family. Going to the park to feed ducks with Grandma and Grandpa on Christmas Eve day, then staying for another hour myself with the boys and building the world's coolest lean-to out of scavenged evergreen branches. (I'm not kidding. It was a truly awesome lean-to. People could live in there. I should get some kind of merit badge or something...) Sharing laughter with my sweetie, as we awoke on Christmas morning, not to the sounds of our boys shouting with glee that Santa had visited and begging us to get up to open presents, but to the sounds of our boys ripping paper like crazy as they just dug right in to their stockings without even bothering to wake us up first. Sharing a delicious Christmas meal with my parents, my hubby, and my little guys, cooked and eaten in a kitchen that could only be described as a disaster area, but not even caring, because we were all having such a good time just being together. Just sharing. All of it. The good, the bad, the ugly. Everything is better when it's shared with people you love, eh?

Another great Christmas. And now, on to a whole new year... Cheers!

1 comment:

  1. So I guess your Ann is my Nixon. Sounds like you guys had fun! And, no sex, huh? Well, sharing IS caring after all, right? Happy New Year, Beth!

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