Couch Potatoes and Christmas Cards

I ordered my Christmas cards last week, and I knew they'd come on Monday. I knew it. I waited to hear the UPS truck screech to a halt on the street out in front of our house, and when they did, I pretended that I hadn't been waiting there by the window like a puppy dog waiting for Daddy to come home, let the guy in the brown suit ring the doorbell, and then took my time standing up, smoothed out the wrinkles in my pajamas pants, walked casually over to the front door- and pried the door open so quickly that it knocked our wooden angel off of the door frame. Smooth.

There they were. Nicely packaged in a cardboard box, just lying there on the cold cement ground. Merry Christmas to me!

There is something just so wonderful and festive about filling out cards and getting them sent off. Fa la la to you, hot chocolate wishes and Santa Clause dreams to you, I hope you get coal because I haven't heard from you since last Christmas- its all so lovely.

I like to have my cards out early on, so that they can be received and enjoyed with time left to still enjoy them, before packing up Christmas and putting it away. This year, with having a newborn in the house, and having wrecked our only means of transportation, I fell behind. So as soon as I saw them there on our doorstep- I dug right in.

Unfortunately, in order to do so, I had to call up the babysitters.

"Wonder Pets, Oh Wonder Pets, where aaaare yooou?"
I don't like to do it often, I usually limit their tv to an hour or two a day, but- sometimes a Moms gotta do what a Mom's gotta do, ya know? Those Christmas cards aren't going to address themselves.

Besides. I don't think they really minded all that much...



Total, zombies.
This is why I hate letting them watch TV.

Charlie isn't as bad as Eleanore, even though this next picture might lead you to believe otherwise...



Look at him sitting there with his legs crossed, all proper and stuff. No other show, can do this to him either.

Well unless it has trains in it. Maybe then.
Or maybe cars or trucks. Or planes. Or anything that moves.

Eleanore though, will get so locked into the TV that she wont hear you, or see you, or even remember to breathe at times. I swear she goes into some kind of couch induced coma. The mere mention of turning the TV off sends her body into a full blown tantrum triggered seizure- her body flies off of the couch and hits the floor, arms and legs everywhere. Its usually then, at the first signs of a meltdown, that the power button on the box gets pushed, and I request that they resume moving their bodies in a humanly fashion and using their imaginations the way that a child probably should.

But sometimes, I maybe break the rules and let them watch A Charlie Brown Christmas 3 times in a row, just so that I can get the laundry separated without having to remove "monsters from the mountains!". Or... so that I can get a bazillion Christmas cards written on and sealed up.



The little one- she mostly stays with me. Either beside me in a bouncer, or on my lap, drooling all over my arm as I type. But from time to time, we'll go check in on Brother and Sister- see who the Wonder Pets are saving this time (a reindeer on cracking ice).

Something else I don't do on these lazy days? Tame Eleanore's dreadlocks.



Someday you'll have hair, Evelyn! Just like your sister- thick and impossible. You may be balding right now- all of your beautiful red wisps hitting the ground with every bumpy ride on Mommys knee- but it'll grow back, hopefully still ginger, and before you know it, I'll be hiding your matted mess under kitten covered headbands as well.

I worked on cards and ornament packages for hours, yesterday. And half of the day before. Finally, around 10pm last night, I called it quits. I had collected most of the addresses that I needed, and sealed up all of my bubble mailers. I sent Christopher off to the post office this morning (I'd hate to be the guy in line behind him), with diaper box overflowing with tiny gifts to be delivered from here to there. I can finally brush my hands off, and bring my focus back to the gift giving here at home (I can't wait to surprise my Sasquatch clan with rocks and sticks). And while I'm doing that, keep your eyes peeled on your mailboxes, friends and family. I expect some of you will have smiles waiting for you in your PO boxes sometime early next week.

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