Well, it seems as if everyone has made it to the flip side of Thanksgiving in one piece. They've made all kinds of leftover turkey casseroles and soups, and now they've moved on to Advent, with all the plans that season brings.
Meanwhile, I've got about ten cups of leftover sweet potato puff staring me in the face every time I open my fridge. So instead of cleaning out the refrigerator, I thought I'd whip up a spectacularly mediocre post.
Priorities, my friends, priorities.
Our Thanksgiving was great, and I can see, in a strange way, that being sick right before the holiday was a sort of blessing. I didn't have the energy to get stressed. It's easier for the perfectionist in me to let go of her neurotic picky-ness when said perfectionist is drugged up and going to bed every night at seven.
We are now in the throes of our Christmas decorating, although we won't have our tree for a little while. In the meantime, I need to figure out some kind of barrier/containment method to protect the tree from a seriously adventurous ten month old. I may need to consult NASA - he is that good.
And don't ask me to comment on the fact that my baby is two months away from being a year old. It is an impossibility. Moving on.
I have not started my Christmas shopping, but I refuse to be panicked about that. Instead, I have enjoyed slowly unwrapping our decorations and placing them carefully around the house. I enjoy watching the children rediscover all the little treasures they packed away a year ago. I enjoy thinking about how much richness Bun has brought our family in one short year.
I am even trying to enjoy Fiver's adjustment to all the changes. And if not enjoying them exactly, then at the very least being more patient. He's having a hard time with the loose structure of vacation and with the change in the look of the household.
It's times like these that Fiver has difficulties coping, and it's harder for us to ignore the fact that he's not like the other kids. That's not a bad thing, it's just something for which we need to plan. Like when he wants to sit and watch his Christmas train circle the track for forty five minutes at a time.
He'll eventually abandon his post, I just need to wait.
As a child, I used to have a hard time with Advent. I am not a good wait-er, and Advent seemed so long to me. Now, of course, Advent flashes by in a heartbeat. It will be Christmas Eve before I know it.
I'm still not a great wait-er, but these children of mine sure have taught me a thing or two about waiting.