by mamaschmama

When I look back at my old posts, my favorite ones are those that are more formal and well thought-out.  I have a central idea, a defined start that leads to a plausible conclusion, and I’ve taken time to correct most of the grammatical errors, at least the ones I was smart enough to find. 

Today will not be one of my favorite posts but it will help me remember some of my more favorite parts of this Christmas.  So, happy Kwanzaa to you!  Your gift, if you so choose to accept, will be … I don’t know, didn’t you pay attention to what I just wrote?  No moral or conclusions going on in this essay.

On Christmas Eve, I tore my tights with less than an hour to go ’til church.  My daughter was there to witness it and learned a new swear.  And dammit, that girl is loud and talkative in church most Sundays.

With a few minutes left until the start of Christmas Eve services, I announced the Christmas Eve bribe in the grand tradition of Mary and 4 year old Jesus.  Remember that part?

Lo, Mary said unto Jesus, “Thou must behave in church tonight.  I thou does what I say, I will give you one early present.  If thou does not behave in church tonight, I will returneth all gifts to Target.  I MEAN IT.”  [Book of Bribes and Cajoling 12:25]

So, off we went to church (did I mention it was Christmas Eve?) with literally one minute to spare.  Mistake.  The place was packed and we were ushered up to the choir section which is where the sermons are delivered, across from the #1 woman not to mess with at church:  Gail.  The pressure was on for all of us to behave and not mess up or laugh.

Luckily, for most of the service, there were a few over-ambitious sheep who continued to baaa despite their part in the Nativity play being long over.  It covered up some pew kicking and fight picking happening in our general vicinity.  Ahem.

Afterwards, we committed a giant sin and ate in a restaurant.  I felt bad but after our high-stakes church going, neither of us were in any mood to cook dinner.  The place was pretty empty and we tried not to throw food all over so they wouldn’t have a lot to clean up when we left.  The owner had decorated his handle-bar mustache for the holiday and it was truly a sight to behold.  I want to talk to this man about nothing but his mustache grooming habits every time I eat there.  I counted the ‘stache as my Christmas Eve gift.

At home, we set out some cookies my husband had been given at work and counted out eight carrots for the reindeer.  My son threw them outside on the front porch and went up to bed.

Can you believe it only took him three hours to fall asleep?

I told my husband that I felt guilty doing Santa (unintended humor, but I won’t edit it out for those of you who are naughty) because I’m pretty sure he knows what’s up. When I mentioned Santa in October, he picked it up and twisted it to his needs immediately. “MOM, I got an email from the Halloween Decorations Guy and he said it’s OK for us to get out the Halloween stuff now.”


Christmas morning was slow and fast like it always is.  The 4yo ran downstairs and dumped his stocking on the floor and then went back and got his sister’s stocking and did the same thing.  I didn’t stop him because she’s only 1 and we both knew she needed a few hints about how to do Christmas morning.

We bought only a few presents this year and the bulk of them were dress-up clothes and LEGOS. My daughter was swimming in the sea of Princess Culture that morning.  Her favorite was all the jewelry.  These were gifts from my husband who knows how to buy for the Schmama females. From him, I received my replacement wedding band as my gift.  (I lost the original one in our move. I know, you’re curious about what it looks like. Draw a circle with your pen right now.  There you go.)  My ring wasn’t nearly as fancy as the 1yo’s 2 karat, plastic heart ring but I get it.  Our job is to improve the lives of the next generation.  Sacrifice, baby girl.  Remember that.


Toy. of. the.year.

In what is apparently becoming the grand tradition of our family, my sister inadvertently taught my children a new swear on Christmas while Face-timing with us.  After I gave her the middle finger and hung up on her, I calmed the chorus of “OH SHIT OH SHIT OH SHIT”

And do you know what was really my favorite thing about our Christmas this year?  I don’t know.  All of it.  I’m not in the mood to reflect but I sure do want to remember.

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