The barfing is over, thank goodness. The kids watched about 14 hours of TV today. Totally worth it to have all the bags unpacked, the house cleaned, the fridge stocked, the sheets washed, and to have had a shower. I watched the first Diary of a Wimpy Kid with them and laughed pretty hard.
Dalton has been in the land of LEGO's, putting together Garrett's Christmas present from Grandma Paula. The kids finally ate something and so far, have kept it down. Gavin has a cough, which sucks. Hopefully we'll all be in bed pretty soon. I thought that I would be in deep depression coming home from sun, sand, and room service. But surprisingly even with the stomach bug, lack of sleep, inversion, and all, I am not.
I still would like (?) to send out holiday cards...out of fear that if I don't I will loose all my friends(?). In the past there were partnerships with charities where a portion of the proceeds from the sale of the cards would go back to a non-profit. But this year I can't find any. I just ended up donating directly to the Utah Food Bank. But now I am not as motivated to send holiday cards. All that money, and paper, and postage, and TIME so that all the people who I am sending them to, who see my daily facebook posts and pictures, can now have a paper version that cost me a dollar that they can throw away. But again, I want to get their cards in the future...so I will probably continue this stupid expensive fun wasteful annoying tradition.
Speaking of annoying- holiday newsletters. Seriously, who invented this tradition? And I am as guilty as everyone else. It's just that now a days you have to be so stinking clever and creative, that I can't even decode what half of my friends and family are trying to tell me. I have to sing their message to the tune of Jingle Bells, while trying to match the numeric code on the side with the child whom they are talking about whose age in years matches said number. Then I have to be able to read 3 point font, and Gaelic Fairy Swirly Script. Add to that the third person narrative, and I can not figure if my female friend from college has just started her own business, or if it's her husband's, or if we are talking about her two year old who is potty training and his "business". Seriously, can we not just write something that makes sense and is clear, whilst using the words "I did" when referring to oneself, and have it be on a regular piece of paper that I can scotch tape to my door?
We just decorated the tree skirt tonight. :) It's a tradition that we started last year, and I was not about to miss the second year after the first was so great. Last year was fancy. The kids had iron on decorations that they picked out, along with paint that they dipped their hands in. This year we had fabric markers. Shelby said that she didn't think her hand grew. I traced their three little hands, and then they colored on all the stuff they were in to. Dalton put lacrosse, indoor soccer, art, Halo and Jack (his best friend). Shelby put art, soccer, and tennis. Garrett just scribbled. We have room for ten years of hand prints and memories. How weird that when the tree skirt is filled Dalton will be 20 years old.
I know that it's true about how they say- "Blink and it happens" (they grow up). I am trying not to blink. Especially after this Mexico trip. I keep chanting to myself that I am bringing PV (Puerto Vallarta) back. I usually chant it with the tune from the LDS youth camp theme song (EFY) that I attended every year of my teenage existence- "I know who I am, I'll take a stand, for all I bee leave. I hope this feeling won't go a way. If I let it staaaay...I'm taking it home with me!" I am replacing the spirit of God, with the absence of anal retention, and anxiety...which is pretty equal in importance as far as I am concerned.
This year I am going to try to be more chill...more fun. I think that I might even go buy one of those little donut makers from Williams and Sanoma...although now that I say it, it makes me tired just thinking about how much work and effort it would take to use the thing...let alone clean it. It is cast iron I think. They are called ebilskiors...or something like that...Swedish. Instead maybe I'll take the family to Finn's once a month. Maybe instead I'll just make french toast with them- yay! I love having realistic expectations for myself.
I got straight A's this term. So happy. Of course it was only two classes, and when I say straight A's it makes it sound like there were five of them. But two A's is better than one or none. So- A's. The weird thing is that in one class I had my brain rocked, and I do think that I earned an A. In the other class, I am dumber in the subject after having taken the class, than I was before I started out. Yet in the land of stupid assignments, and tests that do not accurately account for how much knowledge was gained, I look like I am a master of both subjects. Whatever.
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