Christmas Eve was spent, once again, at Paul's mom and step-dad's shindig. Per tradition, I took no pictures. Per tradition, it was damp and cold. After returning home, we spent the rest of the day doing pretty much nothing. The kids' favorite elves doorbell ditched a package containing the same items as last year- hot chocolate, popcorn, and Christmas books to be enjoyed before bed. The elves are just not feeling all that creative after a month of Christmas preparations. We all unwrapped our new Christmas jammies, to which Sam declared that my Christmas jammies selections are getting better and better each year. The children were each pleased.
Once the kiddos were all asleep, Santa and Mrs. Claus set about putting gifts under the tree and assembling the main gifts. Claire was getting a new kitchen which Mrs. Claus easily put together while Santa set out to put together the first of the boys' new Green Machines, a cross between a bike and a big wheel. It didn't go as planned. There was a faulty part. But never fear, Uncle Mark and Santa Claus together can fix any problem! Except on Christmas Eve. After a trip to Mark's house at 11:00 pm, where Santa anticipated fixing the problem with a tap and die set, Santa returned home with bad news: the tool was actually on a work truck that was not at Mark's house. There would be no Christmas miracle. Mrs. Claus was crushed. CRUSHED. She had visualized having each child's big gift put together under the tree. There were only a few small things otherwise and now she felt certain Christmas was ruined. She went to bed on Christmas Eve very, very sad.
There wasn't much sleep to be had before Christmas dawned a few hours later. Claire was coming down with a nasty cold and kept coming into our bed. Nathanael got awake around 2:30, requesting cartoons, was sent back to bed, at which time he discovered his stocking. Paul went to stop him from completely plundering his treasures so soon, and he did go back to sleep. I ended up on the couch when I couldn't get any sleep from Claire being in bed. And at some ridiculous pre-dawn hour, Nathanael came scurrying into the playroom to show me what he had discovered in his stocking. At that point I joined them in their room to see what the elves had left in their stockings, told them to stay upstairs, and I went back to bed with Paul and Claire. But they couldn't help themselves. They used Nathanael's new finger-lights from his stocking to sneak downstairs to take a peek at what Santa had left, discovering of course their main gift. Mrs. Claus was crushed again. She would not get to see their excited little faces as they descended the stairs on that bright Christmas morn.
These are the few pictures that even exist of Christmas 2014. We had a very busy Christmas Day, as usual, visiting first my family and then Paul's. Lots of eating, lots of presents, lots of visiting.
And then it's over. And there's nothing more to look forward to until spring. Bah humbug.
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