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mysidI can't complain; I had a very nice Christmas. We went to church Christmas Eve as my son was singing with a choir in the late-afternoon "Family Service"--that's the one with a Christmas Pageant and in which crying babies are OK--and I got to do a good deed by taking care of the children in the nursery during the 7pm service. (Husband and two kids went to that service to enjoy the music/candlelight while Daughter and I handled the nursery.)
The next morning, the kids let my husband I sleep in. (Truthfully, the teenager would have enjoyed sleeping for a few more hours.) Then my in-laws came over so we could all open gifts together and have brunch. I forgot to put the egg casserole in the oven until we'd almost finished the gifts, but everyone was nice enough not to moan, "I'm so hungry." Then after some down time, we went over to the in-laws' house for Christmas dinner. Everyone had a very pleasant day enjoying each other's company. Plus, everyone gave gifts they'd selected with thought, and the recipients all seemed grateful.
Two days later, it was time for "Christmas Part Two". The kids and I drove up to my parents' house to have Christmas with my parents, my brother, and his wife. (My husband had to work, and I don't think he minded skipping it.) It started well enough: My brother wanted to go see a movie, and after polling everyone's preferences, we found a nearby theater showing both The Hobbit and Les Mis at about the same time. Our group divided in half and everyone enjoyed their choice.
After returning to my parents' house, it would soon be time to open gifts. My brother suddenly had an urgent errand to run, so we waited. (My teenager went with him.)
I enjoyed giving out gifts this year as I'd found a few things that I thought were perfect for their recipients. I got a few thoughtful things from my parents--Mom is good at that. She had one gift for my husband, which may sound fine, but you've got to understand that my mom usually makes an effort to give everyone several gifts, some large, some small, but all usually spot on. The one exception--gifts for my husband. He usually gets just one, occasionally two, and it's usually lame. He hasn't had an opportunity to open this year's yet.
And then my brother gave me an envelope such as gift certificates come in. My suspicion that this was what he'd run out to get just a half hour before was confirmed by my teenager. His gift to my husband and myself: a gift certificate to a local restaurant. And by local, I mean local to my parents' house, not to my house. (We live almost two hours apart.) I accepted graciously, "This is great, thanks!" but my mom said, "Why did you get her a gift certificate for a restaurant up here?" Um--because he forgot to buy me anything until half an hour ago, that's why.
The story then continues with tales of a sick child and a car battery which died at a rest area on the NJ Turnpike, but I'll spare you the gory details.
Is New Year's Eve here yet?
The next morning, the kids let my husband I sleep in. (Truthfully, the teenager would have enjoyed sleeping for a few more hours.) Then my in-laws came over so we could all open gifts together and have brunch. I forgot to put the egg casserole in the oven until we'd almost finished the gifts, but everyone was nice enough not to moan, "I'm so hungry." Then after some down time, we went over to the in-laws' house for Christmas dinner. Everyone had a very pleasant day enjoying each other's company. Plus, everyone gave gifts they'd selected with thought, and the recipients all seemed grateful.
Two days later, it was time for "Christmas Part Two". The kids and I drove up to my parents' house to have Christmas with my parents, my brother, and his wife. (My husband had to work, and I don't think he minded skipping it.) It started well enough: My brother wanted to go see a movie, and after polling everyone's preferences, we found a nearby theater showing both The Hobbit and Les Mis at about the same time. Our group divided in half and everyone enjoyed their choice.
After returning to my parents' house, it would soon be time to open gifts. My brother suddenly had an urgent errand to run, so we waited. (My teenager went with him.)
I enjoyed giving out gifts this year as I'd found a few things that I thought were perfect for their recipients. I got a few thoughtful things from my parents--Mom is good at that. She had one gift for my husband, which may sound fine, but you've got to understand that my mom usually makes an effort to give everyone several gifts, some large, some small, but all usually spot on. The one exception--gifts for my husband. He usually gets just one, occasionally two, and it's usually lame. He hasn't had an opportunity to open this year's yet.
And then my brother gave me an envelope such as gift certificates come in. My suspicion that this was what he'd run out to get just a half hour before was confirmed by my teenager. His gift to my husband and myself: a gift certificate to a local restaurant. And by local, I mean local to my parents' house, not to my house. (We live almost two hours apart.) I accepted graciously, "This is great, thanks!" but my mom said, "Why did you get her a gift certificate for a restaurant up here?" Um--because he forgot to buy me anything until half an hour ago, that's why.
The story then continues with tales of a sick child and a car battery which died at a rest area on the NJ Turnpike, but I'll spare you the gory details.
Is New Year's Eve here yet?