We Can Breathe

We can finally relax. No more soccer (LM’s All Star team placed second, by the way). No more party. Outside of Baby Girl’s program next week, no more school stuff to deal with for the near future (and no overbearing program director changing her mind about costumes and freaking out on everyone, either). No more crazy projects, appointments, or any of the other dozen things that are escaping my memory. Things were suppose to die down after Halloween, but that wasn’t the case. But, whatever, we’re done and we can breathe now.

I do enjoy all that stuff, but just not all at once, because I tend to unravel under pressure. And pressure for my delicate flower self is trying to clean up while the kids are in the house. Maybe when I’m 40 I’ll be better at dealing with things. If nothing, Little Man will be 16 and Baby Girl will be 10. Okay, better not to think about that and get all teary-eyed, I’ll take being busy.

Anxiety has been a nightmare lately. No surprise there. That should improve at least a little now.

Hot chocolate, Christmas movies, present wrapping, light show watching, treat baking, Santa Claus visiting sounds like relaxing heaven. Baby Girl understands Christmas on some level. She got to make a Christmas list at a holiday festival on Saturday, and she wants toys. More specifically, she wants the toys she already has. Little Man’s main Christmas desire is to have everyone we know come to our house for dinner on Christmas Eve. That’s what he’s telling people when they ask about gifts. I found this out when a relative texted me and asked what time they should come. Sorry, LM, but my goal is to be more chill this month; inviting 30 people over for dinner doesn’t work with that. (But, damn, he’s so sweet.) Sam even suggested going through with it and making it an open invitation on Facebook. Sam and LM can do it, but they’re on their own. My Christmas spirit has its limits.

While on Christmas, our tacky party went well enough on Saturday. A lot of people canceled at the last minute, unfortunately, but we still had a fun group (and, more importantly, the right group of people). Here are my and Sam’s sweaters:

I’ve gotta go grocery shopping. We need food, especially milk, cereal, fruit, and yogurt, which are Baby Girl’s main food groups, plus I really need to replace the trash bags Sam bought. They are scented, presumably to mask the odor of trash, but the smell is anything but pleasant and makes me want to puke. I’m pretty sure there’s a sinus infection or whatever in the making now. I really don’t want to take off my pajama pants, though, so maybe I’ll go all People of Walmart today. BG will kick off her shoes and socks anyway, leaving people to frown at me and question why I am letting my baby go like that (true story, several times now), so we’d be a good pair.

When gingerbread houses collapse, that’s the go-ahead to eat all the candy.

So, what’s up with y’all? Anyone want to volunteer to cater LM’s Christmas Eve dinner? No? Damn.


17 thoughts on “We Can Breathe

  1. I don’t want anything to do with kids’ Christmas anything, because I done did it all and they don’t even give you a survival tee or nothin. They be all “Buy one for $30” and you know they only come in maroon and teal or whatever.
    I totally feel you on the stress, pressure, and corresponding anxiety.
    One year all Moo wanted was a stuffed cow. BG wants toys she already has? Cutest holiday ever. LM wants 30 people to dinner? He could send you and Daddy out on a date and host it himself. PBJ and goldfish, anyone?
    Loooove the sweaters 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Awesomest sweaters ever! Doesn’t get any tackier than Trump! Congrats to LM on 2nd place. He must be proud (yet disappointed at the same time). This is your year to save some $$. Just wrap up some of BG toys that she already has and voila, Merry Christmas BG. 😀

    Liked by 1 person

    • 😀 He was. One of the goals (of 2) in that game was somewhat his fault as he had a handball near the box. It was a quick, nasty kick that would have broken his nose, so I would’ve done the same!


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