Miz S

Pianissimo

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. 

Christ!

Why doesn't anyone update or EVEN EMAIL ME on Christmas Day? Why are you forcing me to interact with my family non-stop for hours at a time? You're killing me here.

I kid, of course. Family interactions have been 99.99% positive and loverly. Except for about 5 minutes when I was fussy with Josh because I thought he was being too bossy. The real problem was that I was hungry. It's important to feed me every 2 hours. WHICH HE SHOULD KNOW BY NOW.

The 24th was kind of a long day. At the last minute I decided that I needed a few more things under the tree, so I went out shopping.

Note to self: try to avoid doing that next year.  It wasn't a nightmare, but it wasn't a cake-walk either.

Whilst I fought my way up the Rockville Pike to score another present or two for my girls, Josh sped down to National Airport to pick up Evangeline, who had finally been released from the icy bowels of Iowa.  Everyone converged back home at about the same time, grabbed a bite to eat, and then Sasha and Evangeline headed out again for more shopping. I napped so as to be bright-eyed for the evening festivities, which I knew would include a lot of drinking and a long drive up I-95 with my parents but in reverse order.

The drive up 95 was to spend Christmas Eve at my sister Julie's house in Baltimore. Here is a picture of Josh and the girls hamming it up at the party.   

It was fun, as always, but despite my nap I was tired on the way back home, so tired that I had to pinch myself while I drove and listened to my mother tell me anecdotes about events that occurred anywhere from thirty to seventy years in the past and that I have heard 10,000 times over. When I finally got home I realized that I still had some stuff to wrap. However, one of the great things about having grown-up kids is that they sleep late even on Christmas morning. So I simply tumbled into bed, slept like a rock, and got all that shit done in the morning.

Present opening was lovely and laid-back and everyone was happy with what Santa Claus brought. Present opening was followed by hours of sitting around reading, napping, and cat/dog cuddling.

Then my parents came over for dinner so that my mom could tell me the anecdotes that she forgot to tell me last night.  Bless her dotty heart.

Watching Love Actually now. God, I love this movie. I'll be happily weeping in a bit.

I hope your Christmas was merry. Mine was.  This last picture shows Sasha contemplating the awesomeness of her mommy for buying her an adorable little Coach wristlet bag, while Evangeline delights in her new Tom Waits cd.

With Gay Abandon

Sasha and Paul in front of our beautiful fake tree.

The plan for last night was to pick Evangeline up at the airport at 6:30pm and whisk her away to our family's favorite sushi restaurant for the traditional homecoming dinner. She had been deposited at the Des Moines airport by the college shuttle at 10am, and her flight was scheduled to leave at 1pm.  But the weather in Des Moines got worse and worse and the flight got delayed and delayed while Evangeline sat in the airport.  Many phone calls back and forth. At one point the plane actually taxied out and sat on the runway for awhile but in the end the flight was canceled. We got her a room in a hotel near the airport which she is sharing with three friends. All boys. But it's okay, Evangeline explained, because two of them are gay theater majors. She is in high good spirits despite the fact that she can't get a flight out until the morning of Christmas Eve. It's all a big adventure. Thank God for credit cards and cell phones and the Internet.

I was really rooting for her to make it out of Des Moines last night, but in the end I thought damn, I wouldn't want her out driving in that weather and I sure as hell don't want her flying in it.

I am calm. Josh is fretful and so is Sasha because she is tired of being an only child. (Suddenly, I am much less calm because I just remembered that Evangeline has a diabetes appointment at Children's Hospital tomorrow morning that she will no way make, and I went through HELL to book that appointment, and I will have to go through HELL AGAIN to reschedule in the very few weeks before Evangeline leaves for Russia. Where the weather is quite similar to that of Des Moines, just in case you are wondering.)

My plan for today is to wrap presents and then go visit my mother and father, who are babysitting my brother's crippled pet chicken while he is in Italy. Long story there.

Oh, and yes, I did Christmas-y things with my students on Friday. We made gingerbread man cookies, because we had been reading gingerbread man stories all week. I made a big deal about locking our classroom door so that the Gingerbread Man couldn't run away. The kids kept checking to see if their cookies were still there. The gullibility factor makes teaching first grade a lot of fun.

Hope you are enjoying these last hours before Christmas. You probably all finished your wrapping already, didn't you?

Midnight

Sunrise on the way to work the other morning.

I would normally be getting my beauty rest at this hour but I came home from work today with a sore throat and a headache, so I lay down for a delicious two hour nap. I am now paying the price. I did try to go to bed at 10:30 and lie there squinching my eyes shut but that never really works, does it? I tried to get conversational with Josh in bed but he suggested that I should rest my voice. I have relocated to the living room couch for a little quality time with the cats and my laptop to see if I can get sleepy.

Our Christmas tree is up and decorated, but it looks a little odd. Sasha had to remove all the ornaments from the bottom third of the tree because Nash keeps batting them off and then playing soccer with them.  He's a cute bad kitty.

I am feeling rather friendly and holiday-ish, despite the pending viral infection. I wrapped a few presents tonight and wrote out a bunch of Christmas cards for friends at work. I hate the whole gift exchange concept at work. I never know who I should get stuff for and it's all very awkward. So I usually just don't get anything for anyone. I am hoping that heartfelt holiday messages will be enough.

Maybe tomorrow I will have time to clean up here at the house. One of my complaints about Christmas is the disruption of routine and order. As I survey my living room, I feel a little hemmed in by the flotsam and jetsam. There are boxes of Christmas ornaments that haven't been put away yet, stacks of extra strings of lights that were purchased but are just sitting on the counter, rolls of wrapping paper, extra extension cords, tape, yardsticks, giftboxes, etc. Everything is all discombobulated.

So, yeah, tomorrow is the cleaning up day.

I'm not doing all that baking and crafty stuff that some of you seem to enjoy. I mean, it looks fun and all, and I used to do stuff like that when my kids were little and I didn't have a stupid full-time job, but now it's all I can manage to make dinner and do a load of laundry. So, no loaves of cranberry bread for the neighbors. No little felt animals or strings of popcorn or gingerbread cookies.

Tomorrow at work I will finish up my reading assessments. I will have lunch with the small brother and some other boys from my class last year. I will go see Amanda after work to bring her a present. I will clean up my living room. On Friday I might make gingerbread houses with my class. I said I might. Only if they do not get on my nerves tomorrow. And the chance that they will not get on my delicate nerves tomorrow is slim to non-existent, based on the way that they behaved yesterday and today. They are just a tad over-excited about Christmas.

Me? I'm surprisingly calm, cool, and collected.

It's A Christmas MIRACLE!!!

Us love Jebus. Us want to go to church. There are foodz there?

I went to church this morning at 7:30am. Some of you are rolling your eyes and saying "What the fuck?" and some of you are nodding your heads and saying, "She's finally seen the light! Praise the Lord!"

I can't help it. I'm a born-and-bred Catholic and I yearn for churchly goodness at this time of year despite my preference for lazing around on Sunday morning. When I go to church, I find it half embarrassing and weird and half fulfilling. Don't ask me to explain. I got nothing for you.

Anyway, I told Josh last night that I was going to 7:30am Mass and he said, "Do you want me to go with you?"

And I said, "GOD. NO."

Josh likes Mass way too much, in my opinion. I mean, you know, for a Jewish boy. He sings the songs so heartily that it almost seems like he's being sarcastic, but he's not. He just LIKES to sing hymns.  He also says all the responses and kneels and stands and sticks his fingers in the holy water and, and, IT'S JUST WRONG.

Anyway, I set my alarm for the crack of dawn and somehow found the strength to follow through and get up. I drove to the church in Georgetown that I used to go to with my kids sometimes. I like it because it's a Jesuit church and the Jesuits are all radical and shit. I fumbled my way through Mass because it's been, oh, about a year or so since I last went. And I embarrassed myself during the Handshake of Peace because I think I shook too many people's hands. It was awkward.

But THIS was my favorite part: there was a man there with an amiable-looking yellow lab that was wearing a blue service dog vest. Dude. Once I saw that lab sleeping peacefully on the floor by the pew I just couldn't focus on godly matters.  And when the man went up for communion the dog went up, too! It was so cute!!

Now, this man did not appear in any way to be handicapped, but I totally understand that he may have a condition that is not obvious. That's not my point. My point is, I want to put service dog vests on my dogs so I can take them everywhere. If I could take my dogs to church I would totally go every week, I swear. The only problem is that my dogs are just not that well-trained and everybody would know that they weren't really service dogs. Rosie would be jumping up on random people's laps to get attention and April would be freaked out by the organ or something.

Anyways.

Church was fun. I might even do it again next week.

Now go forth and sin no more, you damn heathens.