Friday, December 26, 2014

Christmas, Expectation Free

Christmas has come and gone, and I have big plans tomorrow to take down all the Christmas decorations and reclaim our house from the crunchy carpet of fake pine needles and broken ornament shards.

Merry Christmas babies!

This is my favourite time of year. Not just Advent and Christmas and New Year's, but this whole season of celebration. The twins are gearing up for birthday number one; the Man and I celebrate six years of sharing coffee and sarcasm and general marital bliss; Tiny is prepping for the thrilling threes and Littles the fantastic fives. Still, not everything has gone according to plan and not everything ever will.

Exploring some musical instruments African Auntie sent.
This was a brief moment of happiness after which the over stimulation re-instated itself as king.

The buckeyes (supposedly my Christmas treat for the Man) looked like something from a horror film (and said Man had to take over the chocolate dipping so I could let the twins crawl all over me). I forgot to take a family picture on Christmas Eve when we were all dressed up and on our best behavior (which is exhausting). Bruiser spent the Christmas Eve service shrieking happily and had to be taken to the back at which point Bee cheerily demonstrated her ability to yell his name at the top of her lungs. None of us knew his name was in her arsenal of words.  Finally, of course, I had to make a 9.30pm trip to Target for Crisco so I could make rolls for dinner the next day.

Confession: I took this fantastic photo.
I really should just raid the Man's phone for better pictures.

Then on Christmas, Bruiser got over stimulated with the present opening excitement and yowled himself silly until we packed up the whole family and went for a walk (all I have to say about that is he should be glad we're a family that does low-key Christmas). I burned the rolls for dinner. Well, some of them. The rest had to go back in to finish baking. The ham boiled over somehow, and I'm still trying to figure that one out. The twins and the boys played tug of war with the table cloth at dinner. Bruiser skipped his nap. Bruiser expressed himself through biting. Bruiser expressed himself through screaming. Bruiser expressed himself by head butting me in the face.

Why? I don't know. But happiness. Yay.

It's becoming evident who the problem child is. I promise, he is as adorable and precious as he is loud and sleepless. And good gravy, I want to squish him and cover him with kisses.

{picture complements of Littles}
The boys have had fun shooting each other with their new nerf guns.
They are under strict orders to not shoot Mama.
Only the Man gets to do that.
But I will make him pay. With burnt rolls and really bad buckeyes.

Anyway, through all of this, even our Christmas morning pre-coffee adult grumpiness, I thought to myself about two things: one, how wonderful it was to have the Man home this year, and two, how weird it must've been for two year old Jesus when those strange men showed up with non-kid friendly presents for him. Seriously, how does a sinless two year old respond to worship? And why did no one bring him a slingshot? Or at least a ball? Gold, frankincense, and myrrh are what you give for a Bethlehem baby shower, not a two year old's birthday party.

Littles getting artsy with his favourite stocking stuffers.
Oral hygiene is very important to him.

Ahem. Moving on.

The Man can't blame me for this classy photo since Littles took it.

I also forgot to take pictures yesterday (well, I got in a few), but luckily for me, the Little Man knows my phone password and put his intensely photographic eyes to good use. So, while I don't have any pictures to show you of Bruiser wearing his first tie or Bee in her adorable plaid Christmas dress, I can show you really festive pictures of our toilet (kidding, I'm not including that one) and our kitchen (or that one) or our backyard (or that one).

Bee thinking really hard about getting her walk on.
Maybe on her birthday.
{photo credit to Littles}

But on all accounts, it was a winning Christmas. The kids and the Man did me proud, though I told the Man my favourite present was still being able to look out the window and see the ocean. He told me I was welcome, but I'm pretty sure that was my Christmas present from God. Just saying.

And I did take this one. Bee got really into her new books last night.
Stand with the donkey! Slide with the sheep!

Finally, continuing the litany of things that have been not exactly according to plan: our Christmas cards and the pictures books for the boys' birthdays….still in the works. It's okay. We're just letting Christmas stretch out a little bit longer for some people.


  1. I approve of a stretched out Christmas.

  2. O has some South Sudanese musical skillz. I knew I should have just taken him back here with me.