Holiday cheer for a scrooge

This morning was one of those that are likely to make a Scrooge out of anyone. It began with a clogged disposal in the kitchen. Followed by 100 phone calls to locate a medical office that had the immunizations Lily needs before leaving the country tomorrow. Then I packed up the three kids and headed over to “Reproductive Education Class for Toddlers”—otherwise known as “Come sit through Mommy’s 6-week vaginal exam, pap smear, and blood draw.”

This was preceded by the dreadful weigh-in, where I was interested (that's a euphemism for ticked) to find that I have lost a grand total of NINE measley pounds since I was 39 weeks pregnant. (Lily weighed 7 pounds 8 ounces. Don't do the math. It's embarrassing.) I didn't have the guts to tell the doctor that I chopped more than ten inches off my hair last week, which undoubtedly weighed around a pound or two. I'm pretty sure Locks of Love is going to take one look at my Christmas package (10 inches of split ends) and promptly toss it in the fireplace. Almost as good as chestnuts roasting.

Following "Reproductive Ed" and "Crush Janel's Self Esteem at the Scale" came a trip to the pediatrician and four shots for Lily. And since I was still scrooge-ish about my weight, I headed straight to McDonald's and ordered myself up a double cheeseburger special.

The rest of the day was filled with typing emails one-handed while feeding Lily, packing, sewing the last few Christmas projects on my list, and changing my and Eliza's clothes after her blowout and attempt to set the world record for number of spit ups. Baby puke is not a very attractive scent. Especially not down the cleavage.

Lucky for us, most days this month haven't been like today. We've been loving the crafts from Make and Takes. We've been reading lots of Christmas books and singing tons of Christmas songs (Sage laughs hilariously at "I saw Mommy kissing Santa Claus" and Eliza can sing every word of "I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas"--not my doing). We love our LIVE Christmas tree. Oh, and the hot chocolate--a daily necessity at this time of year. (Admit it, you just thought "Nine pounds, didn't you?" You Grinch.)

Some people may just want their two front teeth for Christmas, but Lily (and I) are wishing for a bit more hair for her this year. And maybe more burp rags for me. And maybe baby-sized and mommy-sized sleeping pills for the plane flights tomorrow. Okay, we'll stick with the hair wish.

And the presents. I took Sage and Eliza to the dollar store, and gave them each a dollar to get a present for each other and for Daddy. After thirty minutes I had to drag them out of the store and admit failure. Sage spent the whole time not finding a present for Mark and trying to convince Eliza to use her dollar to get Sage this or that. Eliza mostly ignored Sage and busied herself with trying to snuggle with every stuffed animal in the store. She left howling after I had to rip the hot pink dog out of her hands at the door. Luckily we got home and found a package from Aunt Liz's family, and all thoughts of pink dogs were replaced by visions of packing peanuts dancing in their heads.

Last week I broke out the nativity scenes at our house, and Sage was unhappy with their lack of animals, which are apparently more important to her than the people. I'll have to remember that when I go to Jerusalem TOMORROW!--capital of the olive wood nativity sets. Let's just hope they make the doves and donkeys and camels and lambs and chickens.

Speaking of Jerusalem, I better hit the hay. Next post in Jerusalem. Next post in the Holy Land.