Elfing 2010

Actually these pictures are of the morning after the elfing, since in the midst of the elfing there was dirty dishes and cardboard boxes mixed in with the Christmas cheer.  We had just returned from the respective Grandma's Houses, from a wonderful and full weekend, and we recklessly decided to do our tree decorating yesterday afternoon anyway instead of resting and doing it today like sensible people.  It was glorious, although we ended up getting so tired and backachey that we actually ordered pizza for dinner the weekend after Thanksgiving.  In my defense, the only Thanksgiving leftovers at our house were crackers, so that isn't quite as weird as it sounds.

Here is what we had for breakfast this morning, since the Potential Moving Company that might be packing us up for our Potential Move doesn't do home-canned food in jars:

Apple turnovers (with biscut dough crust, because it's fast).  That's home-canned apple-pie filling inside.  I still have about 28 jars to use up.  Want some?

And yes.  The time on the stove clock is AM; we get going early 'round these parts.

The snowman cookie jar (and the Christmas music CDs next to him) come out directly after the turkey basket that holds my mail from Halloween to Thanksgiving goes away.  Now I have to fill him with cookies.

I can't think how it's happened that Miss Boo never had candy canes until this year, but she likes them in spite of the fact that Mama felt the need (inspired by accidentally buying the kind of old-fashioned candy cane with the extra tiny stripes) to explain that the candy reminds us of the Good Shepherd before I even unwrapped it.  Actually it was to stall while I picked at the plastic with too-short fingernails, so really it wasn't that bad.

We got the elaborate bulb with the house on it the first year we were married and it was on our first, eighteen-inch-tall tree.  It was the only thing on the tree.  Sorta sad, huh?  But cute, and now we give it a spot of honor high on the tree, out of dog-tail and kid range.

Buddy doesn't do early mornings.

I like my nutcracker, even though he was made in China, or possibly Thailand, instead of Bavaria.  The Nativity scene music box was popular last year and is already proving a good bribe (i.e.,  "we can't play the music box until we pull up our pants" - Miss Boo, doing excellently with potty training, just can't see the sense in pulling pants back up once you get the plaguey things down.  You just have to pull them down again for the next potty run anyway.)

Padraig, sitting on the sheepskin rug where he knows he isn't supposed to be.  He always acts surprised to find himself there, having worked his way on carefully, a toe and a tail at a time, while the kids were sitting on the rug.

Next year, Littleman... next year.  It's too early for you to show up this year.

Waking up...slowly...

What's so captivating?  The tree?  The beautiful Nativity scene on my tall hutch that the Husband bought me last year and that I forgot to take a picture of?  Santa?

Nope.

Dora.  Sigh.

I am reading a Montessori book (about applying her ideas, not actually by the good lady herself--which seems to make all the difference) that I will probably review for you somewhat later; right now suffice to say it has a bewildering mix of good ideas and dumb pronouncements.  This book says that I am ruining my children by letting them watch a Dora a day so that I can take a shower.  Also I shouldn't cuddle them in the middle of the night or carry them.  I confess it to you freely--I am, apparently, a really bad mom.

However, I do like the book's suggestion that I let the kids do more stuff for themselves.  I forsee the child-sized soap and hand towel (I have some tiny ones that do no earthly good as adult hand towels, that are supposed to be chic) at the bathroom sink as making washing-up time very popular for a while, and I have long known that Buddy loves cleaning, so I might as well make the quest to find him a tiny broom and dustpan official and dignify it with the label "Montessori".

Our Thanksgiving was lovely and I spent it being unproductive except for knitting--I did get a couple of kid sweaters finished.  (Nothing too remarkable there--worsted weight wool and 100 stitches around the body--no sweat.)  Now I can't believe it's only a few days until Advent again.  This year I'm getting a proper wreath, instead of cobbling one together with votive candle holders.  They just don't work.

Hope you are beginning a lovely holiday season; remember that for Christians, this is "Advent", not just "the Holidays"--and then remember that the poor clerk at Walmart has to say "Happy Holidays" by company policy, so don't scold.  If you believe what you're saying, you may smile warmly at the overworked, underpaid critter and tell her "Merry Christmas."

And a word to the wise from me (all the grandparents connected with me know this already, so this is a general message).  If you are a grandparent, and hesitating between the toy that makes sounds and requires batteries and the one that doesn't--get the one that doesn't.

Cheers,

Breanna