Jack and I are pretty fortunate (and equally cursed) that 98% of our families live in Lincoln, so when we come back for a holiday, we get to see just about everyone (That’s also the curse–not being able to stay in one place too long because parties always overlap, causing us to move along to another’s residence before the previous affair has ended).
The festivities started Christmas eve. In the middle of last minute wrapping and gift making, an old neighbor and friend from our days on T street (or as the ghetto folk refer to it: T Town) called and asked us over. It was by far the most eclectic holiday shindig I’ve ever attended. Between us, we spoke English, Spanish, French, Ukrainian, Russian and Vietnamese, along with snippets from other dialects. We couldn’t stay long due to bedtime restrictions but it was certainly a memorable evening.
Fortunately, we had all recovered from ear infections, the stomach flu, fevers, pink eye and general lethargy (well, mostly).
With the girls tucked in bed, Santa’s helpers placed packages under the tree and stuffed stockings and finished knitting an adorable sweater for Clay’s friend, Lucy. I humiliated Clay by making him model it to check the fit. Not bad for my first dog sweater, I think.
The next 24 hours were filled with church, flurries of shredding wrapping paper, a few scuffs (nobody gets between my girls and new toys, not even their beloved cousins), deliriously tired children, great abdominal workouts via laughing and hearty portions of calories.
The girls were smothered with so much princess apparel and hodgepodge that I’m feeling the need to go play with bugs or get soil under our nails or something.
Not that there’s anything wrong with pretty and pink, I just don’t want them to become squealing girls afraid of getting dirty.
There are still a few get-togethers to go and luckily, despite the myriad of illnesses, we had ourselves a merry little Christmas.