You were overwhelmed last night for sure, falling asleep before all the guests for your daddy’s birthday party arrived and then waking up to an explosion of almost 20 people in your grandparent’s living room. The children outnumbered the adults, so you were in heaven. You love watching people your size!

You spent another mellow day indoors today with your dad and grandma while your aunt and I spent the afternoon going to lunch and discussing her upcoming move to LA(!), did some last minute Christmas shopping and bought the ingredients for tomorrow’s appetizers.

I know you are still not feeling well with your runny nose and hoarse voice. Poor baby! Could there anything worse that a sick infant?

‘Twas the Night Before Christmas or A Visit From St. Nicholas, as it was originally called is based on the poem written in 1822 by Clement Clarke Moore for his six children and it is one of my favorite Christmas books and for those of you who haven’t read it yet this holiday season, here you go:

‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;
And mamma in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter’s nap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
“Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! on Cupid! on, Donder and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!”
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.
His eyes — how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night.”

The best is yet to be and a Happy Christmas to all, indeed.

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I needed to run 19 errands today (okay, give or take 10) and we got to three (the gas station doesn’t count). Someone, I’ll just call him Mr. Fussypants for the purposes of this post, wasn’t having it. He screamed at the top of his lungs at each and every place we went today thoroughly embarrassing me and making me sweaty. He downed two bottles in nothing flat because they were the only things that seemed to keep him happy on our big whopping 90 minute outing.

I’ve had it, he’s had it and I still have a million things to do.

With just two weeks until Christmas, I’m at the point where we all get (I hope I’m not the only one?!) where I hate the holiday season. I hate the rushing around, I hate the traffic, I hate the pressure (mostly self-induced), I hate being sick for the fourth week in a row (!), I hate the rain and cold and stupid drivers and long lines and decorations and over the top cheeriness and greeting cards (even though ours are done and very cute: Happy Holidays!) and I am just wishing it were July!

I am taking a deep breath and counting to 10 and you, my darling baby are taking a much needed nap.

I am looking forward to your aunt Leah being here tomorrow night. Not only is she a wonderful source for comic relief, but maybe after a few laughs, I can have her watch you for a couple of hours and escape to get some of my holiday crap done. 🙂

The best is yet to be?

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