Wrapping, wrapping, wrapping.
Checking that list.
I got almost three hours of sleep last night.
I believe in the renewal of a hot shower and a coat of mascara.
An early morning Relief Society phone call provided the turbo boost to jump start my day.
As if driving to seminary wouldn't shift me right into overdrive...
I hit Target as soon as the elementary bus pulled away. I knocked our mailbox off the post as I pulled out of the driveway. Then I ran across town to drop off my first bundle of clothing to a consignment store. With six growing kids I give so much clothing away, I figured I might as well try to make a few dollars in the process.
This post is probably going to be like trying to read highway signs in the dark at mach speed. Random, disorienting and not at all helpful.
I can't tell you how good it is to have a college-age son home for this crazy week. Really good. Especially since our bread-and-butter is working from Nevada until Wednesday. My dreams of becoming independently wealthy off my new consignment enterprise were quickly deflating, as the woman who runs the shop rejected 21 of my 30 allowed items. In the middle of it all, Nevada-man called to ask if I heard that Sister So-and-So was in the hospital, (check. early am phone call) and then Yonder called to inform me that I'd left him a vehicle, but if I really wanted him to make the preschool drop, he needed keys. Dang. Lucky for us, our neighbor was home wrapping her own gifts, and her van was available for the school run.
Sometimes I do love cell phones. My birthday girl's new shoes were too small, so I returned them and had no luck finding replacements. I got two more phone calls from siblings, checking on new family drama. Laughter is good medicine.
Yonder and I teamed up to groom the ice rink. In the process, we broke a mop, poked a hole in the liner and I got soaked by a runaway hose. I almost forgot to pick up my high school boy, and at the red light in the center of town I caught myself briefly dozing. My piano lessons cancelled, so I went home, put on my pajamas and climbed into bed. I slept almost a whole hour.
Rolled out of bed to coordinate meals and rides for the family of six who is temporarily without a mom, and then got to work on some muy delicioso chicken soup for mine. I served it so hot that four of the kids burned their mouths, but the amazing wheat crescent rolls we made to go with it were so good, they were just the distraction needed. (That, and some ice cubes)
Family Home Evening included a rousing seven-part version of the (Seven) Days of Christmas:
On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me:
1-A yeti in a snow cave
4-cell phone calling plans
7-seven days in the week (felt like there were 12 in mine)
This was not motivation to have more kids.
and we watched the DVD "A Christmas Memory" by Truman Capote. We didn't finish, but ended where the elderly cousin gets the boy Buddy drunk with the leftover whiskey from the 31 fruit cakes they made together; she gets yelled at by her younger sisters, and then the boy and his older cousin-friend retire to the porch steps to sing "Hark the Herald Angels Sing." We spent about 60 seconds trying to decide what we ought to take away from the movie, and then gave up.
I bought some Triaminic night time cold medicine for Mr. Morning. I told him this afternoon that I wouldn't give it to him until bedtime, because it would probably make him fall asleep. I went with 6:00, just before we sat down to burn our tongues, I mean eat our dinner. Clean-up got rowdy, and Yonder approached me on the sly to tell me that maybe NOW would be a good time to administer a dose of the night time sleepy stuff. I informed him that it had been in effect for an hour now. Morning boy couldn't have been more wound up if we'd inserted a sugar I.V. Brushing his teeth was like playing whac-a-mole on a high-speed twister mat.
And on that note, I'm off to bed. Tomorrow is a new (and more mundane) day. I believe in the power of a good night's sleep.