Goat #2 has conjunctivitis (Merry Christmas, right?) so getting her to sleep last night was almost impossible, what with the eye rubbing and the non-stop “I’m GOOPY!” She finally settled in her own bed for good about 3:30 this morning. Goat #1 was up at 4:12. We managed to hold him off until 5:20, but it’s not like we really got back to sleep, what with the fidgeting and the near-constant “Is it time YET?”. We finally told him to go get his sister up and we’d all go downstairs to see if Santa had come (despite all behavior leading up to the big day that warranted NOTHING, not even coal.) Sister, however, was dead to the world. She wanted no part of getting up, not even if it involved presents. I had to carry her downstairs, and even upon seeing the (ridiculous, unwarranted) pile of gifts, she just wanted me to “sit in dat comfy chair and hold me, Mama.” (Apparently so she could wipe her nose on my jammies.)
By 6:00 this morning, the beautifully wrapped and carefully arranged (ridiculous, unwarranted) pile of gifts was but a memory, and my living room looked for all the world like Santa’s workshop had exploded. Goat #1 was in the thrall of handheld Nintendo games and Goat #2 was hopped up on Blendy Pens. (Note to other parents who are smart/lucky/age-inappropriate enough to have escaped this “must have” gift so far: don’t. Just….don’t. Ye gods, the mess.)
By 7:30, I’d read 7 new books, assembled 2 new preschooler puzzles, and stepped on 9 different Blendy Pens that had been left on the carpet sans cap.
By 8:00, I was ready to cry over wooden model/puzzle airplane “instructions.” (Yeah, I just air-quoted that word. Trust me, if I weren’t too fried to work the scanner, I’d upload a pic for you all so that I could bask in the sympathy that would undoubtedly be forthcoming. Goat #1 could have written better instructions. [See? No air quotes for his.] They SUCKED.)
By 8:30 I was plotting to fake my own kidnapping, thanks to the evil genius who invented Legos.
Around 9:15, the hallucinations started, so here’s where my play-by-play ends, because I honestly don’t know what actually happened and what I may have just imagined.
Goat #2 passed out watching a video at 4:30 this afternoon. She’s still asleep.
Goat #1 passed out right after dinner (6ish?) and is still in a ball in “dat comfy chair.”
My living room looks like an epic battle for world domination took place within its confines. (I do recall some fighting that involved the Jungle Fury Power Rangers, Ben 10, Iron Man, Anakin Skywalker [as Padawan, pre-Darth], the Dark Knight, and the dart shooter from Goat #1’s spy kit….which I don’t think I hallucinated, since come on, if I’m going to hallucinate an epic battle for world domination, surely Matt Damon would be there.)
And I? I have finally put down my new iPod Touch so that I can type instead of tap and get this post done before I succumb to exhaustion. Which I can guarantee will happen about 27 minutes before Goat #2 wakes up. It’s hard for me to care, though. (Sleep deprivation apathy for the win!) (Kidding.) There’s just something about the smiles and excitement of little kids on Christmas that makes it all worth it. Even if it did take you weeks of planning and scads of money and hours of wrapping and hiding (which they demolished in less than half an hour.)
I hope you and yours are having an amazing holiday season, and that the joys of family are more obvious than usual.
P.S. A propos of absolutely nothing: my washer is magic, and benevolent. No, you can’t have it.
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