Arya napping on Josh.
Christmas felt funny/odd this year. Emma and Nate are in Kentucky visiting Nate's mom, so we had already planned that we would do Christmas present-opening when they return this weekend. But we (Josh and I) didn't really have any other plan for Christmas morning.
That's not entirely true. We picked up my mom and brought her over to Sophie and Paul's house to see the Christmas tree and eat french toast. Mom was enchanted with their new dog, June, and gave dog-handling advice non-stop the entire visit.
But I was feeling fussy, to be perfectly honest. I couldn't wait to take Mom back home and just not have to DEAL. She was super disconnected from reality and, just, I don't know...I was fussy.
When we finally got back to our own house, there wasn't really anything to do. No new sweaters to wear or new books to read. No mess to clean up. I suppose we could have worked on the household budget or cleaned out the closets or caught up on the laundry. Or gone for a walk or volunteered in a homeless shelter or, I don't know, picked up trash in the park? Taken down the Christmas decorations?
Instead, I took a long nap with Pushkin. Later, we went to our friends' house for dinner, which is usually a boisterous affair with lots of drinking and debauchery but even that was low-key.
I need to plan better for next year. I guess we need to create new traditions.
I know I sound a little Debby Downer-ish. Sorry about that. I'm just a little off right now.