All Set
The out-of-state gifts have been shipped. Cookies have been baked (and foisted off on friends and relatives). Shopping for the kid is done. Shopping for the husband is done. All gifts have been wrapped. Woot!
I love these last few days before Christmas, when it's just a matter of waiting. I particularly love the evenings, that hour or so after I've yelled at the kid to go to bed and then I can sit quietly in the living room, enjoying the tree, the candles, the solitude.
We knew a snowstorm was coming, so I took the kid shopping yesterday so that she could pick out a few things for her dad (originally we had planned to go today). Apparently everyone else saw the same forecast, because the mall was insane. Fortunately, I spent two hours doing restorative yoga yesterday afternoon so I was relaxed enough not to utter a single cuss word as I circled the parking lot, looking for a space. We did our shopping and then headed home.
Speaking of Christmas shopping, I have to share a funny story. When family members have asked me what to buy my kid for Christmas, I have been saying, "You can buy her some ugly clothes from Justice if you want." How ugly? "If it hurts your eyeballs just to look at it," I explain, "She will love it."
My youngest sister bought some Justice stuff online and had it shipped to our home. She gave me a heads-up and told me that the stuff would be wrapped. The box arrived on Friday, so I opened it. The stuff inside? Not wrapped. I looked at the packing list and noticed this line printed across the middle of the paper: "Gift wrapping is back-ordered." What on earth? HOW CAN GIFT WRAPPING BE BACK-ORDERED? I imagine that the gift wrap will arrive sometime next week, which will be super helpful. I dug through the box to see what my sister had sent to her niece. I figured I would just wrap the stuff for her and fill out a gift tag on my sister's behalf. She sent some jeans that I know the kid will love, as well as some boots that she will probably want to wear to bed. Then I spotted a shirt and saw the tag that hung from the neck seam: Size 20. Ummm. I thought maybe the tag was just wrong, so I took the shirt out of the plastic bag in which it had been sealed. Nope, it was definitely a size 20 - and this size was also reflected on the packing list. It's kind of funny because my daughter is so tiny that she still has to sit in a booster seat in the car. She wears a size 7 and even that is pushing it - a size 6 also fits fine most of the time. I sent my sister a text and let her know that I would exchange the shirt the next day. Here's where it gets a little weirder, though. I dug around in the box some more and found a pair of shiny, glittery black leggings that my sister did not purchase. Size 14. Not listed on the packing list. I wasn't sure if I'd be able to exchange them because, technically, they didn't belong to us. Anyway, I guess the point to my story is that the people who work in the Justice warehouse are on crack. Oh, and the store did give let me exchange the leggings so I applied that amount against some ugly Justice necklaces and and stuff. The leggings were so horrifying that I couldn't bring myself to obtain a pair in A's size.
As predicted, we did get a snowstorm this morning. I very much wanted to go to church, but one look out the window convinced me that it was just too daunting to head out. I decided to have a no make-up, no bra, wear-my-pajamas-all-day sort of day. And so I did. I tried to take it easy today, although I did tackle one big job. I cleaned out our linen closet. I found pillowcases I hadn't seen since Bush was in office. I also plowed through a few levels in Candy Crush Saga, because that's what Christmas is all about. Falalalala!
Back to the grind tomorrow. I suppose I'll need to wear a bra to work.
I love these last few days before Christmas, when it's just a matter of waiting. I particularly love the evenings, that hour or so after I've yelled at the kid to go to bed and then I can sit quietly in the living room, enjoying the tree, the candles, the solitude.
We knew a snowstorm was coming, so I took the kid shopping yesterday so that she could pick out a few things for her dad (originally we had planned to go today). Apparently everyone else saw the same forecast, because the mall was insane. Fortunately, I spent two hours doing restorative yoga yesterday afternoon so I was relaxed enough not to utter a single cuss word as I circled the parking lot, looking for a space. We did our shopping and then headed home.
Speaking of Christmas shopping, I have to share a funny story. When family members have asked me what to buy my kid for Christmas, I have been saying, "You can buy her some ugly clothes from Justice if you want." How ugly? "If it hurts your eyeballs just to look at it," I explain, "She will love it."
My youngest sister bought some Justice stuff online and had it shipped to our home. She gave me a heads-up and told me that the stuff would be wrapped. The box arrived on Friday, so I opened it. The stuff inside? Not wrapped. I looked at the packing list and noticed this line printed across the middle of the paper: "Gift wrapping is back-ordered." What on earth? HOW CAN GIFT WRAPPING BE BACK-ORDERED? I imagine that the gift wrap will arrive sometime next week, which will be super helpful. I dug through the box to see what my sister had sent to her niece. I figured I would just wrap the stuff for her and fill out a gift tag on my sister's behalf. She sent some jeans that I know the kid will love, as well as some boots that she will probably want to wear to bed. Then I spotted a shirt and saw the tag that hung from the neck seam: Size 20. Ummm. I thought maybe the tag was just wrong, so I took the shirt out of the plastic bag in which it had been sealed. Nope, it was definitely a size 20 - and this size was also reflected on the packing list. It's kind of funny because my daughter is so tiny that she still has to sit in a booster seat in the car. She wears a size 7 and even that is pushing it - a size 6 also fits fine most of the time. I sent my sister a text and let her know that I would exchange the shirt the next day. Here's where it gets a little weirder, though. I dug around in the box some more and found a pair of shiny, glittery black leggings that my sister did not purchase. Size 14. Not listed on the packing list. I wasn't sure if I'd be able to exchange them because, technically, they didn't belong to us. Anyway, I guess the point to my story is that the people who work in the Justice warehouse are on crack. Oh, and the store did give let me exchange the leggings so I applied that amount against some ugly Justice necklaces and and stuff. The leggings were so horrifying that I couldn't bring myself to obtain a pair in A's size.
As predicted, we did get a snowstorm this morning. I very much wanted to go to church, but one look out the window convinced me that it was just too daunting to head out. I decided to have a no make-up, no bra, wear-my-pajamas-all-day sort of day. And so I did. I tried to take it easy today, although I did tackle one big job. I cleaned out our linen closet. I found pillowcases I hadn't seen since Bush was in office. I also plowed through a few levels in Candy Crush Saga, because that's what Christmas is all about. Falalalala!
Back to the grind tomorrow. I suppose I'll need to wear a bra to work.
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| My absolute favorite Christmas decoration. My mom got it for me - I believe it's from the National Wildlife Federation or something along those lines. |
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