Anyway, I'm sitting admist boxes of Christmas decor, six boxes to be specific, contemplating where each decoration should be placed. We've only been married 2.5 years, which is just long enough to acccumulate a couple boxes worth of ornaments, some stockings, a wreath, and a partridge in a pear tree. It doesn't look like Baby B will be crawling in the next 23 days so I don't have to factor his ability chew extension cords or pull over the tree into the equation just yet. Hopefully, he'll just be content to sit in his bouncy seat and stare longingly at the twinkling lights.
B's in the process of ripping up more carpet, so the first floor is looking a little pathetic at the moment -half carpeted and half not. We're not sure why the previous owners even put carpet down in the first place since the hardwood is in pretty good condition. We figure the dead body outline is probably beneath the carpet in the corner that he has yet to pull up. Nevertheless, it's difficult to decorate, much less put up the tree, when a shop-vac sits in the tree corner, carpet snippings are scattered about the floor, and our house resembles the set of While You Were Out only we're not out and Vern Yip is now where to be found. And I'm slightly preoccupied with being a mom, wife, and teacher too.
Usually I'm just exuding Christmas spirit - sprinkling Christmas dust and good cheer all over the house, singing Silent Night opera-style in the shower, and scanning the tube for the Grinch and Charlie Brown. But not this year. I'm just not there yet. I can't even believe Thanksgiving is over. When did life suddenly go into overdrive and leave me in its wake? I'm still trying to fathom the fact that I HAVE A KID. (A really cute kid, by the way.)
I have a feeling that 18 years from now, I'll be asking myself the same question as I anticipate Baby B (who will then be Manly B) returning from college for Christmas break. Gosh. Just writing that makes my eyes well up.
Maybe our trip to Michigan to visit family will bring back that lovin' feeling. Or maybe I just need to stop, smell the roses (or the baby, if you will), and slow the heck down.