Holiday hangover

I’m wiped. The holidays hit me like a freight train. And now it’s 2018. What!?! How did that happen?

The last 6 weeks have been insane. Thanksgiving usually is the first step in the craziness of the holidays. If I’m being honest, it’s probably my favorite holiday. Sitting in a car for 6 plus hours one way, is not for the faint of heart. However, we are rewarded with endless meals and lots of lazy time. Give me all the food…and none of the responsibilities. It’s amazeballs.

Family time every day, yo.These cousins love it.

Immediately, after begins the year end crunch. I’ve been in sales now for almost 17 years. December’s suck. Like really suck. I’m married to someone also in sales. His December’s suck, too. It’s a literal run for money. The year end push is as crazy as it gets in business.

If that’s not stressful enough, we throw even more holidays on top of it. Because December needs more stuff for us to do.

My husband is Jewish, and I was raised Catholic. Today, I’m as non-practicing as you can get. I’ve only seen the insides of a Catholic Church for baptisms, weddings, and funerals these days. Catholic school and I did not get along. I was the consummate student, but for reasons (probably better meant for another post) I am choosing to not raise my kids in the faith I was raised in. My poor grandmother is rolling hard in her grave over that one.

Viv turned 3 this year, and the holidays were extra special. She’s starting to understand what’s going on, and let’s be honest, loves the idea of getting presents. What kid doesn’t?

With Viv getting older, and the addition of Eman, my husband wanted to start to teach our kids about Judaism. This meant we celebrated Hanukkah this year, as well. Dan taught Viv the story behind Hanukkah, and we lit the Menorah each night as a family. And well, I may have gone a little crazy and did 8 days of little presents for the kids.

It’s not a holiday unless I can make myself crazy and over plan! I also learned the correct way to light the candles.

Hint this isn’t it:

It’s the thought that counts,right?

Christmas stopped being a religious holiday for me years ago. I still enjoy celebrating it for the family occasion it has become for my family. We still put up a tree, gather for dinner, and spoil the kids with presents. It’s a time for us to get together as a family.

And for me to over commit myself to everything.

If Christmas work parties, Cousin’s Christmas, Santa visits, and actual Christmas celebrations weren’t enough, we did this:

We might just have bought ourselves a house. I mean, it’s not official until we sign our lives away at the end of this month. But shit got real.

Don’t go to an open house ever. It can be very dangerous for the pocket book.

Buying a new house meant getting our current digs ready to sell. Yeah, getting a house ready during the holidays with two small children is a special kind of torture.

We survived. And this happened.

So we crossed our everything’s, and put up our holiday decorations. And then did all the holiday things.

Obligatory Santa photo

Yummy baked goods

Santa!

Ultimately, we survived December. It was pretty good to us. We ate all the things, opened all the presents, and hugged all the family.

Now it’s January in the Midwest. I can no longer feel my toes, and my kids don’t understand why presents no longer are magically appearing. Classic holiday hangover here.

We also brought home the ultimate holiday gift. Germs: the gift that keeps on giving. This hangover is in full on plague mode.

If you’re still reading and in a giving mode,we are accepting cough syrup and all the Kleenex. ALL THE KLEENEX. And all expense paid vacations to tropical islands free of the plague.

Threenager

Parenting is a tricky beast.  It has this nifty little trick where it makes you think you’ve got it all figured out. And then surprise! Your sweet little children hit a new mastery level in manipulation.  Last week you were skilled at getting them to follow directions, and suddenly this week your bribing them with lint covered chocolate from the bottom of the diaper bag to eat their dinner. 

Mac+cheese with a side of fruit snacks four nights in a row is totally winning, right?

Parenting is hard, yo. It’s survival of the fittest out here.

Sadly, I’m not the one to come to for sage parenting advice (reference the lint covered chocolate above).  However, my SIL, Urban Ohana is good at that stuff.  She’s got some helpful hints here for surviving the newborn stage.  Me, well I’ve already blacked that stage out.  I mean, don’t all fresh from their mama babes only smell delicious and just want to cuddle? Eh, E is not quite four months, but he doesn’t eat green beans off the floor or talk back.  That totally makes him my current favorite.


This girl. Ooof. We have entered a whole new world. This image is of a full blown threenager. The mastery of manipulation on display is one to behold. The Terrible Twos have nothing on this(note this is being written by the mother of an almost three year old that will probably be laughing at herself in a year). 

Threenagers truly get the art of the deal.  I’m spectacularly impressed by the numerous glasses of water and bathroom trips one tiny human needs at bedtime.  There must also be an unspoken rule that poop cannot happen until 30 minutes after “goodnight”.  These are some seriously crafty humans. 

I once asked my mother if my three siblings and I were like this as children. Her response, “I don’t know.”

Guess blacking out runs in the family. 

Well, until I am no longer out-manipulated, at least there is Rosè.