I thought I was doing pretty well with the holidays this year, but then Christmas Eve came along. We went to church. We want that to be part of our Christmas tradition. What were we thinking!? Last year, with a four-year-old, and a one-year-old it went pretty well. My husband thought we were crazy to sit near the front, but the kids could see a little and it kept them interested. So this year we sat near the front again and my husband didn't think it was crazy -- at first. M, who is two, could not sit still. After one carol he announced "Dat was pretty loud!" At one point he came out with a line from Bob the Builder. Meanwhile, the baby (nine months) is taking apart the pew, chewing on sharpened pencils, flinging everything he can reach to the floor after first testing it for gum-easing properties. No one screamed and cried, but oh my! After it was over the guy in the pew next to us leaned over and said "Give them a screwdriver and they'd have the whole pew taken apart by the end of the service!" Ha ha.
So that wasn't fun. And then we head to Grandma's. On the way there I chime in with a comment and my husband tells me that I'm shanghai-ing the conversation, that my comment was not on topic. I cry. Later that night, at home, I have a hissy fit. I was totally overcome my the number of wrapped packages. After we go to bed I sneak downstairs to take some presents away from the tree!
And after all that, Christmas was fabulous. The number of presents seemed about right to me. I got stuff I wanted and so did everyone else. At Christmas dinner at a relative's our five-year old had the giggles, and I had a good time (and these are my husband's relatives). So I hope I learned something for next year.