Too bad.
It's been busy around the ATP household, but it doesn't really feel like Christmas Eve. Part of that is the unseasonably warm weather. My New England sensibility expects snow, or at least cold, in December, and instead all of our windows are open. It doesn't feel seasonally appropriate, but we're appreciative for the kids being able to play outside and for the break in our heating bill.
From a cooler day than today. Don't mind my finger.
Maybe it doesn't really feel like Christmas Eve is because we've been breaking a lot of traditions this year because of the ages and stages of our kids. The other reasons are that I've been somewhat successfully juggling motherhood and freelance music work this Advent, and because last week Mr. Husband had his wisdom teeth out.
In years past, Advent for me was an intense season of preparation at my job. This year, I had the opportunity to participate in the annual Vespers prayer service, but my role was strictly as a hired musician accompanying the upper school chorale. (I did find myself putting music stands back on the rack afterwards, but old habits die hard.) It was nice to be able to sit back and reflect on what fabulous children I had the fortune to teach, and what wonderful colleagues I was surrounded by while I was teaching there. But it was different.
Mr. Husband and I typically decorated our apartment for Christmas the weekend after Thanksgiving, but between being busy and our desire to set Advent as a season apart from Christmas, most of our meager decorations went up today. While Mr. Husband took the kids out for a energy-expending walk, I finished up the stockings I started making for Sir Toddler and Lady Infant this morning. We still haven't put ornaments on the tree, apart from one lonely salt dough ornament gifted to Sir Toddler from one of his more artistically inclined friends. So that's different, too.
Lady Infant made the startling discovery this week that she can open cabinet doors. Yes, that is a child lock in her hand.
Before I had children, I used to bake at least three different kind of cookies to enjoy for Christmas, and to give to coworkers, family, and friends. Even last year, I managed to crank out a half recipe of pizzelles. This year, I threw together 7 (actually 6, because the seventh layer is pecans) -layer cookies, mostly because I managed to find an acceptable substitute for butterscotch chips (since all of the major brands sold in New England stores process them with peanuts. Heath toffee bits don't have an allergy warning, in case you care). The other ingredients had been sitting in my pantry since last Christmas, and yet none had reached their expiration date. God bless America.
Tonight we're skipping our usual venture to Christmas Eve Mass and the overnight at my in-laws' house. Instead, we'll take them to my in-laws' Christmas Eve celebration, go home and sleep in our own beds, and take the kids to Mass tomorrow morning. We'll have a relatively peaceful Christmas dinner, just the four of us. Maybe we won't decorate the tree until tomorrow. Maybe, in the next few days, I'll make some pizzelles and we'll take the kids to see some lights. With two little kids, some of our old traditions just have to go, and that's OK. We're starting to make our own little traditions, humble as they may be.
Merry Christmas.
No comments:
Post a Comment