We interrupt this blogging break to check in and wish you a merry Christmas, and also to report that I may have to spend the rest of my life on my couch. I have eaten approximately 47 pounds of food in the last five days, and I've warned Hubs that he may just have to roll me places for the rest of my life.
(Although I do think parents should get a pass for eating the Santa cookies on Christmas Eve. I did NOT eat them because they were delicious and chocolatey and soft, I ate them because my children expected it. It was good parenting, purely--one of many, many sacrifices a mother must make. It is not a sacrifice for a father to make, because this mother got to the cookies first.)
Tonight (Christmas night) we opened gifts with my parents, grandmother, and my brother's family. After planting the children in front of Ratatouille, the adults sat in the dining room to exchange gifts. We always draw names, so each person gets one very special gift--it's a very meaningful tradition. My mom drew my name this year, and I think I'm going to secretly engineer it so that she gets my name every year. She completely outdid herself. She gave me a great tote bag filled with the DVD of one of my favorite movies, a poetry book I've wanted for years, an amazing sewing book, two embroidery gadgets that are too clever for words, and then...then there was the tattered manila envelope at the bottom of the package.
I opened it to find a half-finished set of embroidered placemats. They were started, MANY years ago, by my grandmother. We were very close--even though she's been gone for 13 years, I still miss her terribly, especially at Christmas. But tonight, I held that project of hers that was just as she left it, and I breathed in the scent of it (it still smells like her house!), and it almost felt like she was right here. Included in the package was the original thread, enough that I can finish the project she began. I think it's the sweetest Christmas gift I've ever received.
And so, as I sit here all happy and glowy and over-carb-ified, I just had to pop in and say hello. And merry Christmas. And please pass the Tums.