For the sake of allowing you to understand why my brain no longer functions the way it used to, I will cover December's events thus far in chronological order.
This first event was technically not in December, but it was close enough. That event would be my birthday. That's right, as of two days before December graced us with it's presences, I was graced by the presence of the number 26. I am now officially closer to 30 than 20. The only thing that makes this depressing is the fact that I have yet to earn a mere Associates at a community college. This means, at the rate I'm going, I will be a 40 year old woman trying to earn my college degree in classes with 20 year old bimbos who won't be able to tell me who Jem and the Holograms are. See? Depressing.
So, to celebrating this depressing thought, my family and I went out to dinner and a movie. Mexican cuisine followed by a nice dose of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hollows, Part 1. A nice mellow evening that ended with driving home on black ice with this little beauty in the trunk:
Isn't she lovely?! I have yet to test drive her, but she still puts a smile on my face when I see her sitting on my desk, waiting patiently for me to load her with film. She was my birthday gift from my parents. Bethany bought me some much needed socks (all of my old ones are retiring one by one).
Kyle bought me this filing system. Now I can show those bills who's boss and finally get my desk back. Hallelujah!
The following weekend was designated Tree Hunting Weekend. Kyle and I have only cut down our own Xmas tree once before, and the results weren't anything a professional decorator would even look twice at. That would be why we picked out a tree from a nursery last year. This year however, we were told of a different place that had a much nicer selection of trees. I'm thinking, "Awesome! We can go cut down our own tree AND still have a nice full one." Well, wasn't I sadly mistaken. The trees Kyle and my dad finally found WERE much nicer than the tree we had a couple of years ago, but they were definitely not nursery worthy. Now, I understand the pride that comes to a man by being able to say, "I actually went out into the forest, cut that sucker down, and drug it all the way back to the truck," but I'm thinking that prideful feeling isn't really worth it.
Our tree has grown on me this year, but next year we're either buying from a nursery or cutting down a tree from a nearby tree farm.
That's not to say we didn't have fun though:
Due to the fact that Vada's birthday falls during Xmas vacation, and the majority of her friends are either out of town or have previous engagements, we usually have her birthday party mid-January. This year though, she said that she would rather have her party before her real birthday rather than after. As if I wasn't busy enough, I accepted this request. And to top it off, I had a brilliant idea: to keep it small, how about we do a sleepover and she can invite six little girls of her choice. In my defense, I let her choose six girls because of that one rule in the party etiquette section of the handbook (the one that is given to you when you become a parent) that reads: always invite at least three more children than you would have attend the party, because there will never be a time when all guests positively RSVP. Well, please take note: WHOEVER WROTE THAT HANDBOOK WAS WRONG!
There was only one girl whose parents hadn't RSVP'd, and that little girl was the first one to show up. By seven o'clock last Friday evening I had seven little girls running, screaming and yelling, up and down the hallway. By nine o'clock that night I thought to myself, "Would it be wrong if I just locked them all in the bathroom until nine o'clock tomorrow morning? I'll slide pancakes under the door for them in the morning." The amount of noise and drama that seven little girls can produce was beyond anything I could have imagined. I had never needed a cigarette so badly.
It was during dessert that my mother informed me that I had a slumber party for my eighth birthday also. Since we were in the middle of moving, it was held at my grandparents house. That was the same night my grandfather had one of his heart attacks. I'm thinking there is some sort of correlation there.
While all of the above is happening, the kids and I have been fighting The Cold from Hell, we have attended a handful of parties, we've decked out our home for Xmas, I have been trying desperately to complete my crafty Xmas projects, and Broden has learned how to climb:
|He started out on the floor and climbed his way to my drink.|
All that's left for this month is our family Xmas, our trip to Disneyland, two more Xmas parties, and whatever else God decides to throw at me for His enjoyment. He has His own sense of humor.
P.S. - I'm not illiterate. I know how to spell Christmas, but I refuse to use this time of year to celebrate Christ's birth. Therefore, I spell it: Xmas.