On a Lighter Note...

I got the gloves! Yes, Kiddo got me the fingerless gloves I asked Santa for, and she got the ones from Ten Thousand Villages.  What a smart girl for a four year old! (Okay, soon to be five.)  And may I add that they are a REVELATION.  I wear them all the time, but I especially enjoy them when I'm writing.  Here's my fingerless gloves happy face:

Grinch-Begone, or How I Banned my Bah-Humbug

One short week ago, I was listening to Kiddo squeal with delight over the Macy's parade while my husband and I worked on Thanksgiving dinner.  I didn't feel well, I hadn't slept, and my four year old was jacked up on holiday spirit, and looming on the far side of all the festivities was the dreaded Christmas decorations.

Allow me first to explain my dread.  I love Christmas decorations.  I've always loved Christmas decorations.  Maybe not so much on November 1st, but in their place, yeah, I'm all about them.  But here's the thing: we (meaning me, my husband, Kiddo, our giant dog, and our geriatric cat) live in a 1700 square foot house, and you know what Christmas decorations do?  They eat up prime real estate in my living room and dining room and kitchen, so there's that.  Also, as my lung damage has progressed, my distaste for anything that increases the dust level in my house has also grown.  So yes,  Virginia (or whatever your name is), there is a Scrooge.  It's me.

Nevertheless, my husband hauled everything down from the attic, and Saturday evening we went to work.  Kiddo was ecstatic (and occasionally helpful.)  Alas, I am a control/neat freak, and I had to leave most the actual tree decorating to Steve since he is better equipped temperament-wise to deal with a four-year-old decorator whose definition of "that spot on the tree is full" translates to "move that ornament one centimeter to the right."  Last night I finished up the final decorating project and can now relax a bit...at least until the shopping and gift wrapping mania begins.

Days later, Kiddo is still in love with the tree and lights and nativity scenes.  It's all so magical for her in a way I don't really remember it being in my childhood.  Her confidence that Santa will bring her requested "Sofia headquarters" is almost intimating.  I'd like to be that sure of one thing in my life, you know?  One Christmas quirk that I can remember from being a kid, though, is my near-obsession with turning on the lights.  I could not be inside that house without the Christmas lights being plugged in and glowing.  Kiddo has inherited this trait from me, and I have to say, it is adorable.  How do I forget every year how excited she gets in December, how ornament crafts light up her face, her eternal pursuit of another cup of hot chocolate and can she have a spoon to scoop out the marshmallows?

So, after a brief interlude into Grinchdom, I am back in Christmas elf mode.  No, not that Christmas Elf.  Here are some pictures of my happy little holiday house (including Kiddo's mini-tree that belonged to me when I was a kid.)

Note the little tree skirt.  My mom made that when I was little.  It's reversible.  She's fancy like that.

I'm loving the happy Advent lights this year.  It's a new addition to the decor. 

Yeah, she made that ornament.  By herself.  Just in case you were wondering.

And last but not least, a quick pic of the decorating madness that was Saturday night...

The Big Psych-Up

This wasn't a terrible weekend.  It wasn't great, but it also wasn't disastrous.  On Saturday evening, I got to meet my best friend for our weekly coffee (or in my case, a skinny hot chocolate) while my husband took care of the Kiddo.  Yesterday was church AND spaghetti day, which always makes for a good combo.  And last night I finished Lolita and started on Elizabeth Gilbert's The Signature of All Things.  That's a pretty good start to the week.  Also, most of my Thanksgiving dinner shopping is done (aside from picking up -- uncooked -- Tom Turkey on Wednesday morning at Whole Foods.)

So why am I just not feeling Thanksgiving yet this year?  Don't even get me started on Christmas decorations and music (with this one exception.)  Don't get me wrong.  I'm thankful.  I have a lot to be thankful for, but as far as the usual traditions go, I am all out of steam before I even start.  Usually, I am chomping at the bit to start cooking for Thursday.  This is my favorite holiday, and I look forward all year to cooking this one meal.  Admittedly, the Celiac diagnosis from nearly two years ago has taken some of the fun out of cooking and baking in general, and this carries over to holiday meals as well.  But we managed last year without any trouble.  Maybe some of it is my continued poor health.  It is discouraging, disheartening, and seemingly never-ending.

It's certainly not my little girl who is already chattering about turkey and mashed potatoes and the Macy's parade on tv and setting up the Christmas tree.  I'm hoping that her excitement will overwhelm me come Thursday and kick my ass into gear.  Tomorrow is their Thanksgiving feast at preschool, and Kiddo is so excited.  I wish I could be the proverbial (and mega-cliched) fly on the wall during that little shindig.  Wednesday evening we'll probably go to the Thanksgiving devotional at church, which is always good for getting me in the right frame of mind.  I'm sure I'll rally.

In the meantime, I have writing to do, housework to plow through, and reading to squeeze in between.  This brisk morning (not as brisk as it's been, but brisk nevertheless), I broke out the sherpa blanket, the shearling boots, and the British Breakfast tea (because Earl Gray just wasn't going to cut it.)  Now that I'm toasty warm from nose to toe, it's time to get down to work.  I've got editing to do and maybe even some straight up new material to write.  It's going to be a good morning.  Or at least a highly caffeinated one.