Friday, December 7, 2012

December miscellanea

I've been going through old blog posts as I laboriously attempt to compile them into a book for Blurb. Because my mom told me to. Like 7 times. I've tried this a couple times, only to get frustrated and quit. I'm going to do it this time, even if it takes me until Valentine's Day (sidenote: I HOPE it only takes that long). Here's something I've discovered: we were way funnier in 2010 than we were in 2012. Or, rather, Donovan was way funnier. What happened to you, dude? Growing up is lame. I'm glad I wrote it down when I did, because I did not remember him singing "Vah-giiiiiiii-nuh cream!" at the top of his lungs one day. That right there was worth it. That's going to make prime wedding toast material, I tell you.

I finally got our Christmas cards out! If you don't get one in the next couple days, then it's still in the mail. That's right. And if you still don't get got lost? I'll post a pdf in a few days so it will be almost as good as the real thing. Unless you want the real thing, in which case I have about 8 leftover.

Also, my Christmas shopping is just about complete. A few little things, and one big thing to secure, but other than that, I AM READY! And I only started after Thanksgiving. It has freed up time to have hilarious email exchanges with my sisters and parents. They have been much-needed giggles amid a cloud of anxiety lately. Isn't there always something to worry about? That seems to be the general idea of life, I think. But it's nice to be collectively outraged at the sandwich guy who didn't notify my dad until he had finished making his sandwich that they were out of bacon. My history is a little fuzzy, but I think Archduke Ferdinand was assassinated for the same thing.

We are going to immerse ourselves in holiday cheer over here, even if it kills me. Even Albus is falling victim.
He has only shown minor aggression toward the Christmas tree, barking at it for a few minutes. Then he shrugged and went back to chasing his tail. Thank goodness he has not marked territory on it.

Gemma has been singing, "I Want A Hippopotamus for Christmas" at the top of her lungs. I can't think of anything else I'd rather her be singing. She likes to tell people, "It's about a REAL girl who wants a REAL hippo for Christmas." I'm not sure why this is important, but it's the disclaimer she attaches.

Last night was Ainsleigh's choir concert at school. Why do I always (nearly!) cry at this kind of thing? You'd think that sitting in an overly hot room, shrouded by a permanent fart-cloud thanks to the kid next to me (not Donovan or Gemma), would harden me. But no. Those kids come out and sing their little hearts out and mine can't help but explode a little. I prepped Ainsleigh this year as to where I was sitting and how nice it is to look at kids who are smiling (unsaid: last year you looked like you were miserable) and she beamed and swayed and sang and clapped. It was delightful. Especially nice was how Donovan (who had already seen it at the school assembly) would say, "They are REALLY good, Mom. I love this." I asked him if he wanted to join the choir when he was in fourth grade and he shrugged. I leaned over and whispered in his ear, "Girls like boys who can sing." He leaned back a little and raised his eyebrows as a small smile teased the corners of his mouth. Then he leaned back in and whispered back, "How do you know?" I looked at him for a second before whispering in his ear, "Because I'M a girl." He leaned back again, eyes big, lips pursed against the grin and nodded in understanding.

That wedding toast is a ways off, but I've got some prime material for you, buddy.


Becca said...

Squeal!! I love Donovan. He is such a lady's man already, I know it.

And I love the description of the choir performance. PERMA FART CLOUD. It is a perfect description for those kind of events. Love it.