Even with the addition of Evan, this Christmas season has been uncharacteristically stress-free for me. I have no deadlines and no time-sucking clients. We've attended almost no Christmas parties. My side of the family doesn't exchange gifts, Carrie the Great has pulled WAY WAY more than her weight selecting and wrapping Matt's side's gifts, and Matt and I set a $20 gift limit for each other.
I hope this doesn't sound too Scroogey (what kind of person is thankful for fewer parties?). That's not how I mean it. But the holidays can way too easily get chaotic and crazy with decorating, entertaining, shopping and traveling. And at least for this year, I'm glad it's all pared down.
I have to give a major shout-out to Ron, who has kept both babies by himself not once, not twice, but three times. That's three date nights, people. And that's pretty awesome. The first two rounds went pretty well, I think. The third one, this past Monday, might have thrown him for a loop -- apparently Claire showed some of her 18-month-old colors, which the grandparents rarely see. Also, Evan was awake and needed attention.
It's one thing to deal with a kid throwing rice across the kitchen, but it's another thing to do that while giving another baby a bottle. The bottom line is, you need a full set of arms for each child. I promise babysitting will be fun again, Ron, but thanks a million for hanging in there while it's hard and unrewarding!
OK, I just wrote a whole lot more, and Blogger deleted it all. There is no way I'm going to do that again right now. Next time I'll try to remember to write about wine nights (I love having them with Matt), skinny jeans (I finally bought my first pair -- that's how fashion-forward I am -- and I love them too), Porter Robinson (I babysat him and his brothers all the way through college, and now he's kind of famous) and the fact that I lost my voice for two days this week (it's back now).