Is it okay to talk about Christmas still? It was over a week ago after all… I feel like I missed the window. I’ma do it anyway though. Here it is: The Uniquety Christmas sum-up
We didn’t go to Utah. It was our first year in our own house sleeping in our own beds with no parties to hurry back and forth between and no 12 hour drives acting as bookends to the days of celebration.
It was fantastic.
There’s a mellow slow homey feeling that has been missing from my Holiday seasons for so long. Since I grew up enough to have work and singing engagements and things clogging up December it’s been missing. This year I found it again!
A year ago when we decided not to make the trek northward we told the kids we’d decided to stay home every other year. It was so nice not travelling though, now going even every other year is sounding like too much. Sure, we missed the time with all the family and friends we usually see, but it was just so nice here at home that we didn’t have a chance to feel lonely.
Christmas morning started way too early.
Mr and I had been up late Christmas eve busy as bees. The last thing we had to do was bake our cinnamon rolls. Sadly, when the oven was opened at the end of the baking time smoke billowed forth, filling the house. The buttery cinnamon deliciousness had bubbled over the sides of the pan and burnt on the oven bottom. The smoke detector sounded and we threw open the doors and windows, turned on all the fans and waved the smoke out of the house, hoping desperately to get that dratted alarm turned off before the kids all woke up and came running to see what the trouble was.
Luckily Zizza was the only one to wake and she stayed obediently in her bed. When I peeked in to check on the girls I saw her wide eyes pepping over the blanket. “you guys are up late,” she observed, “I thought you would’ve gone to sleep a long time ago.” Oh, baby girl, how I wish you’d been right.
In the morning when we heard scurrying feet at 5:00 we saw no reason to do anything but roll over and sleep a while longer. We’d given strict orders that no one should set foot on the stairs for any reason until we came to get them, and we trusted them to police each other if not themselves on this point.
At 5:30 Duke was wailing and we figured they’d woken him and then run off leaving him alone and lonely, hence the noise. He wasn’t calming down so we were forced to give in.
What had actually happened was that after Enzo snuck out of the room Duke woke up and puked. The problem wasn’t loneliness, it was vomit.
After bathing that boy and starting up the washing machine, we had to wake Moo at approximately way too early o’clock so we could all start down stairs to see what Santa brought.
Everybody rummaged through their stockings and Santa left some books to read but to add insult to injury our cinnamon rolls, the very ones who had filled the house with smoke and nearly scared Santa away, were complete goo in the middle and had to go back in the oven in order to achieve edibility.
Translation- at still way too early o’clock Christmas morning I was scrubbing the bottom of my oven while the kids got tired of stockings and books and complained of wanting breakfast.
Eventually we did eat. The cinnamon rolls were even good. Then we opened presents and once everyone was settled with their new toys I went and had me a nap.
When I woke up the kids were still occupied, Mr and I tag teamed a turkey dinner and we all ate it up and played some more and had some candy. Wash rinse repeat.
It was a good day that led to a good week of lollygagging and playing and candy eating.
And now it’s over.