6:50 am…a chill is in the air, Eddie the Elf is atop a bunch of bananas holding a clementine (if the Elf can’t convince them to eat a well-rounded variety of foods I seriously give up). I’m boiling eggs, spreading peanut butter and cutting up fruit because my “selective eater” (sounds nicer than picky) can throw down a lumberjack breakfast like no other, so we make this meal count. I’m enjoying the smell of our Christmas tree and jotting down every holiday thought that comes into my head despite my peanut butter covered hands. It’s honestly like something out of A Beautiful Mind, arrows and charts and scribbles and key words. My head is a flurry of lists – teacher gifts, sprinkles for the decorate-a-cookie event at school, oh my gosh buy my hubby gifts, send out our cards, gifts for the garbage men (my children are obsessed with our garbage men, they are truly celebrities rolling up each week waving and honking and letting the boys pull the lever and squish the garbage in, they’re top notch and so very kind, so yes they also get Christmas gifts in our world). School show attire, Santa hat for singing at the retirement home, outfit for holiday party, sweater for ugly sweater party, bake cookies (it’s my favorite Christmas tradition, let’s see if I have time for it this year).
When out on the couch there arose such a clatter, I sprang from the egg maker to see what was the matter.
Me: “Why is Owen crying?”
Pint-sized scammer – “He bunked his head.”
Me: “Awwww. Wait, what? How? He’s sitting on the couch?”
Pint-sized scammer – “I jumped off the side of the couch onto him and he bunked his head on mine.”
So, apparently someone is following in Mommy’s footsteps and will head straight to law school after he finishes 4K. On the one hand, I’m appalled that he tends to do this. He technically tells the truth but I have to cross-examine him to get down to the actual reason for the bunked head. On the other hand, if I’m being honest, there’s a part of me that finds him funny and rather clever despite his attempts at deception. This may in fact call my character into question I suppose.
Either way, navigating life with two boys is a certain kind of crazy. It is a very physical existence in every way. They constantly need to be in physical contact with one another until one ends up crying or completely annoyed. I am learning this all as I go. But one thing’s for sure, though I may not have many silent nights (or mornings, or days) this holiday season, I have most certainly been blessed with the best gifts I could ever ask for. My heart is full (as are my hands).