December 29, 2006
xmas 2006

Christmas, O my Christmas.

Plunged into the same discombobulation that attends all of my abrupt shifts from working to extended holidays, I did not write because I could not sustain the interest. I can and will recap, though. Right now I'm feeling much better, but still quite bipolar: one half of me wants to get pregnant and/or buy a house RIGHT NOW while the other half wants to scoop out the passport, dodge the small cars & balls of yarn littering the floor and flee until I get somewhere where no one knows my name.

Christmas for Blake was much like his birthday: he topped out after one present. I would have let him enjoy his stocking indefinitely, but he is always rushed through the entire exercise by my parents, who want to do other things.

(Sorry about the bitterness, but this is always the hardest part of holidays, besides amusing Blake for an entire day. The house is never empty and consequently I never feel relaxed. We passed our third anniversary in the basement and I have never wanted to leave more than I do this week. I started looking at mortgage calculators today, and was speedily depressed when we couldn't muster many vital figures. Our separate vagueness in financial matters is reinforced by the other. Not good.)

His haul was immense: trinkets, clothes, toy cars and a stack of new books almost 6 inches deep. We have yet to scratch the surface of this wordy tsunami. Kind of ironic, actually. Last summer I was talking to the ladies at the Sn'B about books, namely my reluctance to spoil him by buying every book in which he showed an interest. The ladies convinced me that I was wrong, and since then I have welcomed it all, and splurged on a few hard-to-finds as well. (There is no Daniel Pinkwater back catalogue to be found in the new stores. Thank heaven for Alibris.)

My presents were mostly forgettable, but the Boy showed some excellent insight in acquiring Knitting For Peace. It's a book that profiles charitable organizations that focus on hand-knitted items for a variety of reasons. I immediately converted my in-process mitten to the pattern listed, and started a Mother Bear teddy the next day. This book kills me, in a very good way. It's the perfect antidote to Christmas over-consumption and indulgence.

The Boy also took me to Toronto for New! Shoes! I {heart} my new Fluevogs.

Couldn't get the boots I wanted, so I settled for some new pumps. The girls in my class have been henpecking me about my shoes, trying to get me into sensible ones so I won't fall again. These ones make me very happy.

The usual round of holiday visits went off with few hitches. We've been extraordinarily sensitive this year, as we all rushed into the holiday season sporting excellent colds, and thanks to the unseasonably warm temperatures we’ve been able to go outside and avoid the dust, cat hair, smoke, and other issues. This also helps us deal with Blake, who is remarkably improved after an hour on the playground. He won't sit still, but at least he'll stop trying to run out the door and fling himself into the street in sheer boredom.

Some pictures!

christmas with the boy's clan (pic mostly for pixie's sake)

blake in his winter hat and clashing coat

two gnomes in an unconventional xmas tree
don't get neck strain trying to make this one true


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Don't make me send out the Blake. He doesn't listen to *anyone.*