Christmas Cheer
I am here to announce that we are officially to the part of the Christmas season where I am seriously seeking to regain my perspective. Mind you, I have nothing but a long list of first world problems and I just read of the horrible tragedy in Connecticut where over twenty people have been killed (mostly children), so I recognize that I have nothing to stress about...
...and yet I feel stressed! I've decided I feel so stressed because I cannot commit to leave the house with a 2-year-old in tow. I need to get some things done, but I know that to head to Walmart right now with this adorable yet not-so-fond-of-the-buggy child is a risk I'm not yet desperate enough to take. I've spent the better part of the last hour debating on whether or not to go, and then devising a plan as to how I can go to the store later with no children.
Yes. You'd think at this point in my life, having been a parent to four toddlers, I would have this all under control. No problem. I'm an old pro, right? But that is the problem. I'm old. I'm tired. My mind is shot. And I've had just enough Walmart With a Toddler experiences to know how horribly awry it can go. How do you spell awry anyway?
Okay, so now I've just wasted another minute of my day looking up awry on dictionary.com...and then listening to the computer voice pronounce it just to make sure I did indeed have the right word. I did spell it correctly, which is quite an accomplishment considering I have only about 43 brain cells left.
Obviously, I am making good use of my time. This is what I do...procrastinate until I'm about to be completely unable to breathe, then put it in high gear...and just watch out if you get in my way.
"Sorry, children. Mommy is just getting ready to celebrate the joy and wonder of the birth of Jesus. Please put on your helmets."
So I think I'll just iron some clothes, have Sam take a nap, and then dart out the door once Chris gets home. I'm sure he'll love that plan. But then there's dinner. These crazy people always want three meals and ten snacks a day. What are they thinking? Okay, so I'll cook dinner, and then I'll leave him alone with his four little cherubs. But what if...?
Do you see the problem here? I'm crazy.
The most sane thing I've said all day is, "Stop eating Daddy's computer."
Okay. I'm going to go take ten deep breaths and regroup. But before I do, I have to give God a big shout out. With the flu and most other winter ailments threatening to take over the world right now, I have been begging God to keep Jack well for his choral and theatrical debut this week. The kid has hit the big time. First, it was a solo at church (two whole lines, thank you very much), then his performance with the elite PP Singers in front of hundreds at the local high school, and finally, this morning, he had a speaking part in the second grade Christmas performance at his school. Can I suggest you go ahead and get his autograph now? I'd hate for you to miss your chance before he hits the worldwide stage.
So thanks, Lord, for keeping that little guy well. And thank you that I will survive and, I suspect, even enjoy Christmas once I have a few moments to myself to think. Ha ha ha ha! Just kidding. That'll never happen. I mean, despite the fact that I won't have any moments to think, but I'll get it all done anyway. Or maybe I won't get it all done, and Jesus will still be on His throne and Christmas will still happen.
You get the idea.
Now to figure out where Sam went with that bag of dimes. No, that's not a choking hazard. Why do you ask?
...and yet I feel stressed! I've decided I feel so stressed because I cannot commit to leave the house with a 2-year-old in tow. I need to get some things done, but I know that to head to Walmart right now with this adorable yet not-so-fond-of-the-buggy child is a risk I'm not yet desperate enough to take. I've spent the better part of the last hour debating on whether or not to go, and then devising a plan as to how I can go to the store later with no children.
Yes. You'd think at this point in my life, having been a parent to four toddlers, I would have this all under control. No problem. I'm an old pro, right? But that is the problem. I'm old. I'm tired. My mind is shot. And I've had just enough Walmart With a Toddler experiences to know how horribly awry it can go. How do you spell awry anyway?
Okay, so now I've just wasted another minute of my day looking up awry on dictionary.com...and then listening to the computer voice pronounce it just to make sure I did indeed have the right word. I did spell it correctly, which is quite an accomplishment considering I have only about 43 brain cells left.
Obviously, I am making good use of my time. This is what I do...procrastinate until I'm about to be completely unable to breathe, then put it in high gear...and just watch out if you get in my way.
"Sorry, children. Mommy is just getting ready to celebrate the joy and wonder of the birth of Jesus. Please put on your helmets."
So I think I'll just iron some clothes, have Sam take a nap, and then dart out the door once Chris gets home. I'm sure he'll love that plan. But then there's dinner. These crazy people always want three meals and ten snacks a day. What are they thinking? Okay, so I'll cook dinner, and then I'll leave him alone with his four little cherubs. But what if...?
Do you see the problem here? I'm crazy.
The most sane thing I've said all day is, "Stop eating Daddy's computer."
Okay. I'm going to go take ten deep breaths and regroup. But before I do, I have to give God a big shout out. With the flu and most other winter ailments threatening to take over the world right now, I have been begging God to keep Jack well for his choral and theatrical debut this week. The kid has hit the big time. First, it was a solo at church (two whole lines, thank you very much), then his performance with the elite PP Singers in front of hundreds at the local high school, and finally, this morning, he had a speaking part in the second grade Christmas performance at his school. Can I suggest you go ahead and get his autograph now? I'd hate for you to miss your chance before he hits the worldwide stage.
So thanks, Lord, for keeping that little guy well. And thank you that I will survive and, I suspect, even enjoy Christmas once I have a few moments to myself to think. Ha ha ha ha! Just kidding. That'll never happen. I mean, despite the fact that I won't have any moments to think, but I'll get it all done anyway. Or maybe I won't get it all done, and Jesus will still be on His throne and Christmas will still happen.
You get the idea.
Now to figure out where Sam went with that bag of dimes. No, that's not a choking hazard. Why do you ask?
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