You know how before you have kids you imagine what the holidays will be like when you finally do? How magical it will be, and they will appreciate your hard work and creativity? Well my parade has officially been rained on.
Don't get me wrong- I love that I get to be with all of my family, including Justin's side, during the holidays. I am glad that we have fun traditions like playing board games with my siblings on Christmas Eve, and not inviting Mom and Dad. (Sorry guys, but you know it's for the best. We want you to stay married for at least 2 more years and that won't happen if we let you lose in a room with a game of Monopoly.) Or opening stockings like we're still five years old. And then arguing that somebody is clearly favored by the selections in their stocking. Heather. Yeah, I said it. Eating your toffee covered caramel pretzel while the rest of us talk about you behind your back.
The trouble is, where are my family's traditions? Does driving for three hours every year with a car full of presents even count? It shouldn't, because driving with toddlers is the best form of birth control that ever existed. I want to some year wake up in our own beds Christmas morning, and lounge in my pajamas (my real pajamas, not the ones that are extended-family appropriate. Hint: It does not include a brassiere.) and watch my kids do all the things I remember as a child. But I think what I want most is when it's all said and done, I don't have load up the wagon, stuffing suitcases under our feet to make room for the gobs of new
crap toys that the kids got.
We can't really not go to Kansas at Christmas time. Well, we could. But I can't imagine that going over very well. Hell hath no fury like grandmothers scorned. So what do I do? Just wait until we are living in Kansas again to start traditions that involve staying at home, or do we stay in Nebraska and board up the windows and prepare for doomsday once the grandparents notice that it is Christmas Eve and we are nowhere in sight?
Maybe the traditions will just have to wait. Who knows, maybe it's for the best. We all know I'm not the best at follow-through. Look at this blog, for example. Maybe my the time we're done in Nebraska I'll have my act together. Psssh, yeah.
Anywho, moving on. Here's a fast a furious recap of the Christmas Weekend events:
Christmas Eve: With the Wood side o' the fam. Always fun, and easier to converse compared to my side where if you want to talk you had best have brought your outdoor voice. Milo got a pair of Buzz slippers and insisted on wearing them immediately. I guess there's no time like the present to be comfortable. Justin and T tried to take a photo with the kids. This is a small glimpse into the mini-shoot. Honestly, I don't know why we even try to document our children's lives when they insist on never paying attention to what is happening.
Christmas Day: With my side. Lucca felt it was best to wake up at three in the morning and get a jump on the day. I told her that was a dumb idea, but she insisted. As you can see in the picture, her naughtiness was rewarded with a rice krispie treat that was bigger than her face. To punish her, I ate it. And it was good: both the punishment and the treat.
And because I want to bring us up-to-date, here's what we do on a regular basis.
The top photo shows the face that Lucca makes when she thinks you're taking a picture. Except usually her lower jaw is more jutted out- like Bubba from Forrest Gump. I kid you not. We're pretty sure she thinks she is smiling, but it just looks creepy.
This photo of Milo pretty much describes what he does from sun-up to sun-down. You'd think he would have burned out that voice box by now...
And we make a lot of turbans. I'm not sure why she looks all dejected in this one, probably because I did it wrong. Yes, she has a particular way she prefers her turbans to be. Meet Lucca: the diva. Maybe she just needs a Snickers bar.
Oh yeah, Happy New Year! ...I'm late on that one too? Dang.