pa rum pa pum pum!

Every day we get a little closer to Decemberween. The fact that I've had most of my shopping completed for 2 full weeks continues to amaze me. Shouldn't I be running hither and yon in a consumerist panic? Shouldn't I be deciding that someone really wants a wooden top for Christmas so that I can get out the Japanese Paper Place before my hair turns snow white and Blake has kids of his own? Where's the rising terror? Where's the squashed joy, the over-consumption of chocolate, the barely-suppressed annoyance?

This is the first Decemberween since my teens that I've greeted with serenity. But when you consider the last few years (2003 - post-partum exhaustion; 2002 – huuuuuge weight gain & continuing depression; 2000-1 – terribly rushed vacations home), you can see the downward trend and start to understand why this year is such a relief. Exhaustion is such a buzz-kill. I'm starting to get all the old chestnuts about health and wealth (although not necessarily in that order).

This weekend was a busy one for the Rocketfamily. On Saturday we made the loooong drive to Camelton to see the Boy's father & stepmom. I failed to pack sufficiently warm clothes for Blake (goddamn it's cold!!) so our trip to see the "reindeer" (actually just miniature European deer) in the town square was abortive. And by "abortive," what I really mean is "I acted like a total bitch because I was afraid Blake's poor bare little calves would get frostbite while we stared at stupid snobby deer." I think the Boy's dad overestimated the excitement of seeing cold deer, and everything else in the square (life-sized Nativity scene, dry fountain & tiny train full of squalling over-sugared tots) was even less interesting in the cold.

I don't mean to give the impression that we had a horrid time. Everything inside was just dandy, and Blake very much enjoyed the chance to putter around with exciting new tchotchkis. There were also a few very thoughtful Decemberween gifts (including a pimped-out play yard and bee slippers for me!) and Pixie managed to call just after we'd rassled the baby into his footie pj's. By the time we left I was totally drained. It's amazing how exhausted I get when I don't have to do anything but eat heavily and pop antihistamines. No pictures, because our camera was visiting around the community this weekend thanks to my own carelessness.

Yesterday was a big day for Jimmy Silverthumb in particular: he was asked to play drums at the annual musical Christmas service, and he dived in with characteristic enthusiasm. By the time yesterday rolled around, his part had expanded past hand drums to finger cymbals and – well – hand drums that were supposed to sound like tympanums. (But didn't really.) My dad & I had Blake in our laps throughout the service, and I made frequent trips to the back of the church so that someone could let off a little steam crawling around the carpet. The only problem with this system was that Blake saw multiple opportunities to make a break for the front, and had to be hauled in by the back of his overalls (much to his displeasure.) He actually made it up to his dad once, but the Boy sent him away, claiming that the drums would be too frightening for Blake.

At the very end of the service, Blake made his final bid for freedom. Shooting up the aisle like a baby possessed, he got to his dad before I could even get up. When I looked down the aisle, I saw him standing up, his hands held importantly on the drum head. Far from being afraid, he stood through the whole last song and drummed along with his father. When the song ended, there were a few final thumps before the Boy could scoop up his free-styling child. It was. Soooo. Cute.

Blake miscellany:

• Blake's favourite words are "up, pup, cup." We've read Hop on Pop to him many times; it finally seems to be sticking!
• Yesterday at my cousin's birthday party, I overheard a vigorous debate between one of my cousins and the boober kid. The boober kid was insisting that Blake was a girl, and she belonged to yet another one of my cousins, while his opponent tried his best to prove that Blake was a) male and b) mine. I just sat in a nearby chair, laughing.

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- Rocketbride's adventure of 12/20/2004 09:10:00 p.m.