Well, we made it. I was worried Hope would know the things I got at the used bookstore weren’t from Santa (a little late, I thought of that…) so I didn’t put tags on anything. She decided on her own what came from Santa, and the old guy didn’t do half bad. Since everything she particularly loved must have come from him. She’s not mad he didn’t bring anything living, either. Apparently Santa gets a lot more slack than I do when he doesn’t meet her expectations.
It is, of course, the first Christmas ever where Hope got up before me. The one where I’m exhausted and sick and for some reason couldn’t sleep… Well, it was bound to happen. The first few years we had to wake Hope up. Last year and the year before I just let her sleep till she was ready to crawl out. Watching for Santa wears a kid out, you know.
I had to laugh at my co-workers’s gifts. Apparently there’s an ‘in’ list I’m unaware of, for people you kind of have to get a present for but don’t know very well. One year I was amused that everyone gave me potpourri (no matter how I spell that it looks wrong), candles, and sachets. I started asking people if it was a hint, did I smell bad? I did the same thing the year I got a ton of bath stuff. Last year the gift was calendars. (mmm, Rafe Ballard through the year…) This year it’s kitchen items. A punch bowl, a vase, Christmas towels, Christmas hotpads, a fondue set…
Hope didn’t remember about Jack-in-the-Box. So I made her tomato soup (her request) and now she’s happily playing with her modeling…stuff. You know, the stuff that isn’t clay, it’s more like–well, it’s like caulking. Anyway, she’s having fun with it. Later we’ll watch Pirates of the Caribbean 2, and maybe I’ll get up the motivation to make some sort of dinner. Or we’ll share a can of Spaghetti-Os. It’s all good.
Joy and Peace to you all.