Andy got home in time for the Christmas Eve service and our annual post-service-party went off without a hitch. We invited everybody, and everybody came.
My Christmas movie uploaded and formatted successfully. All packages were wrapped carefully, Santa's milk and cookies (and one tiny carrot for Rudolph) were shoved ever so mindfully under the tree, along with a note stating "thank you for presents" scribbled lovingly over with stickers and other unintelligible pictures.
I foraged the trail to the modest pile of gifts- plugging in the tree and turning on the music- and adding a "OH WOW HE WAS HERE!!!" Just for effect (which got an audible gasp from the second floor and a little happy dance with tiny feet).
I try not to post pictures of the gifts for FB. While people are posting "wrote this from my new iPad!" I tend to try to lose my phone and all forms of communication with anyone else but those around me. Pictures can be taken with the real camera. Video can be captured with the real video camera. In my small mind, Christmas should be quiet and intimate.
And then my inlaws came. And Liam started throwing up and Andy broke out with a fever of 102.1 and began running the other direction. My inlaws and brother in law were held captive to a second Christmas morning consisting of "open a gift, clean up Liam's puke, open a gift, wait 20 minutes so Andy can go to the bathroom." And then my mother in law started with it. And in our tiny house with one bathroom, pure medlam broke out.
One might say- well that escalated quickly. And one might be right. This is where you find me now. Sorta laying in bed, flannel PJ shirt, Andy's gym shorts and a plastic bag and roll of paper towels by the bed. Andy evacuated himself and Liam and his brother and went to Nana's.
The fact of the matter is- life has a way of doing this to you. One day you're writing about all the things you must get done, and the next day none of that matters. As I was sitting in the funeral service for our dear friend Alan, they were speaking about how kind and generous of a man he was. How he used to drive 15 miles to follow his mother home from work every night, to make sure she was safe. (A revelation to her as she loudly exclaimed mid-service "I didn't know that!") One day you're planning meals and shopping for the best prices and the next day, you're just puking it all up.
There's no ending to this post. No parting words of wisdom about prioritizing. About what really matters in life. About how when they contractor says "we could potentially put a second bathroom in here" and you're like "no, that's okay" how you should be slapped.
It's almost the new year, so we'll count on health and well being then. In the mean time...I gotta go.