Thank-shivving

(No, we didn’t have an unfortunate accident on Turkey Day)

Thanksgiving has come and gone.  I don’t know that I could imagine a more strange and chaotic Tgiving without throwing in actually entertaining at my own house and a little midnight madness/Black Friday action, neither of which occurred.  I woke up wishing I hadn’t.  I stayed up late to try to get the Xmas tree up.  That’s my thing:  I like to have Stella wake up to the tree just magically there.  *Poof!* Last year, she woke up but didn’t “see” it until I went and plugged it in in true great reveal fashion.  This year?  I heard her pounding down the hall at 4:45 AM in typical fashion.  Not 3 seconds later I hear her talking about “Wow!  What a cool Xmas tree!  Awesome!”  Over and over and over again.  It was obnoxious.  It was so early.  It was cute, damn it.  I dragged my poor tired butt out of bed (where I had only been for 45 minutes after finally getting my son to go back to sleep after he woke up at 3:00 and wanted to hang out for a nice long while) and plugged it in.  Then she really got excited.

Cool Xmas tree!  Awesome!  Cool Xmas tree!  Awesome!  Cool Xmas tree!  Awesome!  Cool Xmas tree!  Awesome!  Cool Xmas tree!  Awesome!  Cool Xmas tree!  Awesome!

Cool Xmas tree! Awesome! Cool Xmas tree! Awesome! Cool Xmas tree! Awesome! Cool Xmas tree! Awesome! Cool Xmas tree! Awesome! Cool Xmas tree! Awesome!

 

Felix got over the tree excitement pretty quickly.

Felix got over the tree excitement pretty quickly.

The problem with Stella and excitement is twofold:  she gets loud and she gets over-stimulated.  Both of these things take a long time to undo.  When she gets over-stimulated, her communication lapses.  That means more yelling.  That means louder.  That means my nerves get fried.  That means she gets frustrated.  That means Will gets irritated and impatient.  That means my nerves fry even crispier.  That means Stella gets even more frustrated.  That means…  See where this goes?  Nowhere nice.

At 11:00, I informed Will that Stella and I were taking a nap, period.  If we were to be at Oui Oui’s at 1:00, both my daughter and I required rest in order to function amongst other human beings.  I was a mess.  I reached a new level of mommy-ness, whereupon I found myself walking around the house in old faded PJ bottoms and a nursing tank with an old stretched out cardigan full of holes containing crusty used tissues in the pockets.  I didn’t even really care that much.  It’s shameful.  Once upon a time, I was a hottie in leather pants.  Now?  Yeah.  I would have scoffed at myself 15 years ago.

I napped for 45 minutes and felt almost alive.  Stella slept for 2 hours and 20 minutes(!).  She almost slept through Tgiving.  I had to text Oui Oui and let her know to eat without us.  We hauled butt over there once she woke up.  I hated being late but it was kind of nice to let other people chase my children around while I got to eat uninterrupted with utensils(!) and not feel guilty that their meals were being spoiled by running after my offspring.

Surprise, surprise:  Felix didn’t want to eat much.  Surprise for real, Stella didn’t eat anything.  I expected her to single-handedly kill a quart of gumbo.

We got back home with about 40 minutes of daylight left.  This is the part of Tgiving where I give Will beer and send his ass up on the roof to hang our Xmas lights.  This year, he opted for whiskey.  To annoy our snooty neighbors Todd and Margo, we chose our brightest midway-style lights.  It makes my house about as bright as an interstate truck stop at night.  I hope they enjoy the holiday glow through their designer mini blinds throughout this holiday season.

Eat this, Todd and Margo.  Note:  I hadn't gotten my illuminated pink flamingo out yet.

Eat this, Todd and Margo. Note: I hadn’t gotten my illuminated pink flamingo out yet.

The kids didn’t eat, Stella largely refused to wear clothing, and both of them got to bed about 1.5 hours later than usual, but we otherwise survived Tgiving.  Now onward and upward to Xmas.

When she would wear clothing, it was "summer dresses."  Totally appropriate for the 45 degree outdoor temp.

When she would wear clothing, it was “summer dresses.” Totally appropriate for the 45 degree outdoor temp.

Or this.

Or this.  I’m just grateful she’s clothed.

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About larva225

Working mom. Is there any other kind? Geologist. Nerd.
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