flea | Entries tagged with christmas

In the plus column, we acquired Christmas cards (half #5 and half #9 - the former for elderly relatives and the latter for folks with a sense of humor) (viva la Target; I sent in the order and got an email 8 minutes later saying it was ready), got the grocery shopping done, got 25 leaf bags to the curb (mr. flea), and washed, taped and cut in 1/2 of the kitchen walls (me).

In the minus column, Dillo is pretty poorly, pale, threw up all day long long after there was nothing left inside (we've given him some fluids to prevent dehydration and he throws them up). Casper was okay, not barfy but listless and low, and then fell asleep and woke with one of her night-terror-like times - loud, inconsolable crying. Both are fitfully asleep now in the living room. I sit and look at them and frown. mr. flea's turn to stay home tomorrow.

Both kids are sick again. They were better for 36 hours, and now we're exactly where we were on Friday. What the hell?

I am starting to really stress about Christmas now. Today we were supposed to get our tree and get started shopping for mr. flea's family. Plus the usual grocery shopping. With the kids down, the Christmas tree farm is out; I guess I could send mr. flea to prowl for church parking lots (I have not seen a single place selling trees in Athens, but they must exist!) Mr. flea can do the grocery run single handed, but I wanted to hit the chichi kids store and Jittery Joe's in the same mall while we were there. mr. flea's sister set up an Amazon wish list last night, so it looks like we can shop for her online, except it's not finished (nothing listed for my niece, and we have to sort out what if anything, we'll do for my possibly STBXBIL). (Amusingly, my 9 year old nephew's list is 15 items long, and every single one of them is a Lego Star Wars item.)

I was a little skimpy on my own family, but I'm basically done unless I get guilty and throw some more money at them; I'm just waiting for packages to arrive. We got Target gift cards for the kids' teachers last night (we got a sitter! and went on a hot date to Target!) and got some stocking stuffers, though I was disappointed with the choices; it's a smaller Target and the toy aisles in particular seemed to have been ransacked. And I could not find ANY digger trucks that did not make annoying noises. I think I can finish that aspect in Kroger/Earth Fare/a couple of chichi kids stores downtown on my lunch hour.

And I really wanted to get the kitchen painted this weekend. Sigh.

Everyone is better! We all slept in my bed last night, which was crowded but cosy. I do like to wake up with the kids in my bed when they are sleepy and cheerful. Today I have made banana muffins, cookie dough, and play dough (current activity). Go Team Kitchenaid! mr. flea should be home in a couple of hours.

I also got them dressed and attempted a Christmas card photo shoot, always an amusing activity. Please pick the one you think is best! I think it will probably be 5, 7, or a re-shoot, but must confess I am tempted by 9 and 10.

Staring here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/casperflea/3105558556/

Out of the blue yesterday afternoon Casper asked me if Santa Claus is really real. I took evasive manoeuvres and asked her what she thought. She had a very logical approach - she talked about how there were so many people ('even in one house!') and it didn't seem possible that Santa could give them all presents.

I don't know if she thought this up by herself or some kid at school or afterschool has been talking about it. My family's Santa tradition is that everyone gets stockings, and those are from Santa, but in general we don't make a huge deal out of Santa. We've never done the mall photo op, and we left cookies last year, but it was all sort of low-key.

I do remember working out that Santa wasn't real for myself, probably at about Casper's age. So it's not outside the real of the possible. I also remember helping my mother fill the Easter baskets when I was 10, and being really sad about it. Even if you don't believe, it can be nice to see the fiction maintained. (Note: this may also explain some of my religious pretzelling.)

In gardening news, I had two cherry tomatoes off the plant last night, and need to dig up the basil for inside. I also weeded the bed on the E side of the house (with Casper and Dillo and little S. from next door's help!); my plan is to make it an herb garden (rosemary, lavendar, etc.), or native plant garden (um?), or butterfly garden (lantana, buddleia, etc.). Or something low-key and mostly not edible, at any rate (because of the risk of lead paint). My big bulb order is scheduled to come tomorrow, so I have to plan where to put everything and get them in the ground soon.

So I haven't posted.

Christmas was too much; I sort of wish my mother and her husband hadn't come. It was very stressful to me, and the whole point of staying home was to have a low-key Christmas.

Dillo's favorite word: MINE. MINE. MINE. It's actually rather charming, and funny when opening presents. He doesn't say yes or no yet (though does shake his head no.) Other new words: kitty.

Back to work/daycare/etc. for one day tomorrow, then another 4 off.

In sum: blah.

Casper fell asleep, suddenly, in the middle of her procrastinatory singing.

They came back. They did the dishes.

Stockings are stuffed and out.

Tree is be-presented. (Minimalism, hah.)

Doll house is hiding behind the big pink chair.

mr. flea is wrapping presents in the bedroom, and I can't go to bed until he finishes. That's my husband!

Looking out the window at the big round moon.

So, things were going okay until I came in to find my mother had just posted to my livejournal. "You left it open!" she said. Um, no. I told her so, and she just left WITHOUT DOING THE DISHES.

Also, now I don't know what the plan is.

And Casper isn't going to bed.

Okay, mr. flea just told me the plan. They are coming back with presents in a little while.

I hope Casper falls asleep soon.

I also hope they do the dishes.

Previous to this week:

1 package, wrapped gifts, from MIL and FIL
1 package, not Christmas-related (containing small oriental rugs, which mr. flea informs me were the indirect cause of his grandmother's death, but are still cute), from SIL
1 package, gifts wrapped by Amazon, from father

This week:
Monday: Harry and David thingy, from Mother
Wednesday: gifts wrapped by Amazon, from Grandfather & wife
Thursday: UPS rings bell at 6:30, cheery guy offers to leave packages on porch, which is wise, because one of them advertises its contents very clearly even to non-reading children. Total 2 large boxes from Mother, moved from porch to basement after children are in bed, we are ordered not to open.
Friday: USPS brings Amazon order (mine), box addressed to mr. flea from Nutty, and (drumroll)

LARGE box from my brother, containing wrapped presents! For us!

I did send him something after all, and emailed him to let him know it was coming, and he replied that this box was coming, so I didn't fall down in a faint when I saw it. Our cynicism is such that mr. flea commented, "Maybe that new roommate is a good influence on him."

Packages yet expected:
SIL (Amazon)
White Flower Farm (my order)
at least 4 more from Mother/Sister (not sure who sent which; there was cooperation here).

All unopened boxes AND all wrapped presents are in the basement. I'm not sure which child I trust less, the inquisitive 17 month old or the sneaky-pants 4 year old.

Did I mention I suggested to relatives that we have a minimalist Christmas, because we are too cluttered with stuff?

This was a classic mispronunciation in my childhood household, I don't recall by whom.

Christmas tree decorating report:

8am: mr. flea is heading to Target for more lights (who'd have thought a 5 foot slim tree would need 2 strings!) and Casper is blithely decorating even though all the ornaments will have to come off later. Dillo is making the penguin ornaments kiss each other.

This is our first year having a real tree and I think I like it. Even if it is a Fraser Fir and not Balsam. We bought one of the cheapest trees on the lot (at the local Methodist church) and it was $35. The big ones were $125! We wanted a little one as we are pressed for space.

11:11: first ornament casualty. Something I thought was plastic was actually glass. Emphasis on "was." Ooops.

Casper LOVED decorating the tree and also LOVES the Playmobil Advent calendar we got this year. (Playmobil, being German and secular, gives us all the animals for a creche scene, and an angel, but on the 24th you get Santa, which cracks me up.) She is allowed to play with the Playmobil, and also the Wendt and Kuhn German Herzegebirge wooden Christmas angels, only on the shelf of the china cabinet. Mostly she follows this rule, although we had a 2nd degree battle yesterday when she forgot.

Casper's been rather difficult this past week; got in to trouble at school one day when Mrs. B was in a meeting and they had a substitute, to whom Casper refused to listen. When mr. flea discussed this with Mrs. B the next morning, she also said that Casper has been more social with her classmates (not just her favorite Logan) but also more physical with them, including head-butting one kid. Not good. We're wondering if the influence of Emmett after school - who is physically pretty wild and rassly - is a factor. I dunno. I was feeling sick this weekend and didn't have enough energy to deal with her well. We really need to set up playdates and go to the park (especially when it is 70 degrees, as this weekend) to direct her energy positively. But she resists going to the park and wants to stay in her pjs all day.

Here's a funny seasonal conversation we had yesterday:
subject is The Baby Jesus
me: The Baby Jesus was born a long, long time ago.
Casper: In the 50s?

As for me, I am on Day 5 of my cold and it is The Day When The Sinuses Go MWHONG When I Bend Over. I've never gotten sinus pain with colds before last spring, and: do not want.

Can I just mention how deeply unfair it is that my little brother, who is 29 years old, and just graduated from college last summer (assuming he got the paperwork together and actually bothered to graduate), and doesn't really have a job right now (he does some freelance work for a video game design company he used to work for, but if he made $10,000 a year from them I'd eat my hat), is getting to live in my grandparents' house in Woods Hole, MA? He is paying (modest) rent and there's another tenant as well, but still! How is this fair? He dawdles along into his 30s and can't seem to grow up and get used to the fact that nobody is going to pay him to sit around and have cool thoughts (he is currently interested in neurobiology or something like that, but will he even consider taking a job in a lab? No, because that's menial.) And I just know some stupid shit will fall in his lap, and he'll get to spend his whole life living in Woods Hole, and he'll probably even get married and have kids and my mother will leave him the house, MY HOUSE, when she dies. And I work my little ass off with a stupid job that pays the bills and taking care of kids and going to school and not killing my husband, and I have to move to Cincinnati, home of desperate public schools and segregation and small minds and MY FATHER, and this is going to be my REWARD.

Which is all a prelude to, should I get my brother a Christmas present this year? I always do, a fairly nice one (usually clothes) and he either gets us nothing in return, or only gives us presents by dint of my mother or my sister taking him firmly in hand and essentially doing the shopping for him. (For example, I doubt he actually purchased me a creamer from England on Ebay last year. That one has all the hallmarks of my mother, despite it ostensibly coming from him. She probably even paid for it.) I'm considering stiffing the stiff this year. We're staying home, so I won't have to do it in person or anything.

The truth is, it is way more fun to buy toys and stuff for your 3 year old than to buy presents for your 28 year old brother and 38 year old husband.

Which is why we came home from Target with a lego set, 3 Cars cars, and a leotard with a tutu.

Maybe we'll take some of it back. I hate how Christmas is all about stuff, but at the same time, I do like to buy stuff.