Post-Christmas Shrapnel

We had Christmas at my parents’ new house. They literally JUST moved in like the week before Christmas and it’s still pretty empty, save some basic furniture & the Christmas tree. They have this lovely huge living room with parquet wood floors and vaulted ceilings and Henry just loved it. These great slippery floors – he just scooted himself all over the room on his bottom – sometimes moving his legs around in a breaststroke-type motion. Then he’d lean all the way over and just lick the floor. I love my parents house. It’s amazing – all the details are just breathtaking, but it’s not an ostentatious house. It’s warm and inviting with rich, intricate woods, gorgeous mouldings, thick carpets, vibrant colors and SO. MUCH. LIGHT. They’ve spent the past 15 years living in this big old Victorian home they remodeled which was very very dark, so my mom insisted that this house would be CRAWLING with light. It’s fantastic. And there’s something about it that just makes me want to move in. They made the basement into this lodge-like room with a huge fireplace and beams & timbers and they got new furniture for it in fantastic leather. Mahogany-colored couches and deep, chocolate brown English gentlemen’s chairs. Yum. Okay – enough fawning over my parents’ house. Christmas was a challenge for me. I didn’t realize how hard I was pushing myself until it all hit. Maggie tried waking us up at 5:45am, but I simply refused to get up. She lasted until 7 and then the day began. Santa brought her a Judy Moody Mood Journal, Steven a big art easel  that he didn’t really care about too much and Henry got the Laugh & Learn Learning Home. They all seemed pretty happy about their Santa gifts. Then they tore into all the other presents and got through them all by 8:00. Steven was like a machine – open present, see what’s inside, throw it to the floor, move on to the next one. He got this awesome remote control CAT excavator that totally rocked – it moved in all directions and the scoop actually scoops stuff up. Within an hour, he decided that he didn’t like the remote control part, so he cut it off. Rendering the expensive toy useless. Gar.

On a completely unrelated note, I am currently watching “Water Drops on Burning Rocks” – a surreal French film that Steve Netflixed because he likes Ludiviene Sagnier – and this is some of the weirdest stuff I’ve ever seen. Bizarre talk about sex and then it suddenly breaks into a bad dance number. Eek.

Back to Christmas. After our at-home time, we traveled up to my parents. By the time we got there, I was totally exhausted. Tired, overwhelmed, stressed out, depressed and just done. Trying to keep the kids behaving well, cleaning up spills, fielding Steven’s 293857437638 demands to open presents. I actually had to go in the bathroom and cry twice. By the time we ate & all the presents were opened, I was literally on the verge of a breakdown. The men, of course, had to turn on the football game and we waited until halftime to leave, but suddenly I had to leave NOW. I was just finished and if we didn’t leave, I’d melt into a puddle of disappointment & tired & just sob. I hate it. I love Christmas so much until it’s here and then it’s just too much. All the planning & work & requirements & expectations. I can’t handle it all. I actually felt like I was handling it okay leading up to it, but it’s like my body waited until it was all done & then just shut down. All the baking and wrapping and cleaning and worrying and thinking – it was like my body was a computer that just had enough & turned itself off. So we came home to a house that looked like a bomb went off in FAO Schwartz – because nobody but me can clean up after themselves. But…I ignored it & went to bed. Still, 3 days later, I could sleep for days. And days. And then some more days. Because my body is really peeved at me. And, no, the lump in my knee is not gone yet. And my GI tract is majorly annoyed with the overuse of antibiotics. And I need to eat more yoghurt and buy some Monostat. Ain’t life grand??