Christmas Eve was fairly stressful. People wanted to hold the baby and kept touching her hands. I also had to hold Naomi the entire time, because I didn't want her crawling on the carpet. I don't like other people's carpets. And there were approx. 498,284,401 people crammed into an extremely tiny house, and it was approx. 820 degrees Fahrenheit, and I was sweating like one US Prime hog, with a tiny space heater (Naomi) attached to me at all times, since my husband stayed home sick and my mom had bronchitis and there was no one else to hold her but me. (Except for the cousins who demanded Naomi time.) My older daughter was sitting and crawling and scrabbling and playing on the carpet, and there was nothing I could do about it, since I couldn't exactly hold her or tell her not to sit down as she opened presents. Plus, a few adults were coughing or sniffling, and one baby was fever-red-cheeked, tantruming, and coughing a deep phlegmy cough, and my stress was all-consuming.
But on to the good parts of the holiday.
People were generous to my kids, and they got some sweet gifts. Maya got some baby doll bottles and tiny diapers, which was awesome because she looooooves loves loves her three doll babies, Dee-Dee, May-May, and Runchel. Yes Runchel. She named them herself. So she's having a blast feeding and diapering her dollies.
Naomi got some really cute soft blocks that rattle or crinkle, and a book she can take in the bath, and other fun things.
Behold, my chitlins:
Naomi, all ready for the drive to our aunt and uncle's house:
Maya, opening gifts on Christmas Eve (and sitting on the dreaded Other People's Carpet):
We left shortly after present-opening time, and headed home to put the kidlets to bed.
Once they were home, stripped, and disinfected, I told Maya all about the true meaning of Christmas, and explained to her how the little baby Jesus was born this night, so long ago. We wished Baby Jesus a happy birthday, and then put the kiddies to bed.
Once the babes were asleep, with visions of sugar-plums and Purell dancing in their heads, Santa came.
And we slept. Or attempted to. I think I was more excited than Maya for Christmas morn to come.
Bright and early, it began. Maya came into our bedroom and said, "I think Santa came!" We headed out to check. Sure enough, he had eaten his cookies, put candy canes on the tree, and left presents galore. Even his reindeer had eaten the reindeer food we left out on the porch. The holiday madness ensued.
Candy canes, the breakfast of champions:
I like it eatin paper!
Then it was off to my mom's place for Christmas Part III.
We readied the kids, and we were off.
Our littlest Santa enjoying the view of Puget Sound:
We had a fabulous breakfast, provided by my sweet sweet mama consisting of:
Carr's water biscuit crackers
Taco omelettes (cooked with ground beef, olives, tomatoes, salsa, cheese)
Bellinis (champagne and peach juice)
Moment of confession: I am 33 years old. My mother still makes me JoJo pancakes.
I love her so.
After breakfast, it was time to open presents!!
I like it eatin boxes
Noey's first dolly!!
My family knows me too well. Not only did I receive six Bath & Body Works foaming soaps, I got a touch-free mountable Purell dispenser, Purell refill (70% alcohol!! SCORE!!), and a case (A CASE) of Kleenex paper hand towels.
After presents, we all lounged around in a food coma. We tried to get the baby to nap, but she Would. Not. Have It. After ages of trying to console a screaming baby, we had to leave. Back home we went, to disinfect all our packages with Lysol wipes.
And now it is the 26th. No more un-disinfected packages, carpets, or questionable food for another year.
Hope you all had a blessed holiday. :)