Despite the fact that we don't go all out on gifts for the holiday, our kids get their fair share. Not only do they get plenty of gifts from us, but they get from two sets of grandparents, and the aunt/uncle/cousin lot on both sides of the family. Kids these days are lavished upon compared to what we got back in the day. When we were little, we had to walk a mile uphill, in the snow, just to get our gifts. Or something like that.
We had 3 different Christmases here. The kids got gifts at each one, of course. Micah loved this, and that, and just about everything. Including some things that weren't even his. But it was the very last gift that he opened that stood far and above the others. It was a new Woody doll. He oooohed and aaaahed, then gave New Woody the dance test. If Woody doesn't dance exactly just so on the hardwood, he's a loser of a toy and not worthy of playtime. New Woody passed the test. We didn't see Micah for the rest of the holiday celebration. He and New Woody were getting well acquainted on the stairs, dancing up and down each one.
After the party, Micah found Old Woody in the aftermath of the chaos. He had New Woody meet Old Woody and they danced a jig together on the hardwood in reunion. With one doll in each hand, Micah looked back and forth between them, obviously weighing in on a favorite. He walked over to the toybox, slowly extended his hand, and almost regretfully dropped Old Woody into it. It was rather sad.
But new isn't always better. Despite the fact that New Woody won out on the day he was new, Old Woody has been the go-to cowboy every day since. It's good to know that best friends can't be replaced, just given a break every now and then.
New Friends and Old
January Came Early This Year
There comes a time, somewhere between Christmas and January Something or Other, that I get sick of the vomit of the holiday all over my house and start to clean. This usually happens when Under The Tree becomes a catchall for everything that never gets properly put away. That stuff slowly creeps out from under the tree and invades the living space of whatever room it's located in. And then mama blows her top and declares it time for Christmas to be over.
When I am kick-started by the End of Christmas, I just keep cleaning. Furniture gets moved, dust bunnies are found and eradicated (redding out entire dog-hair lined bunny nests), things get organized, and I buy a few dozen more storage containers. Storage containers rock.
I have this confession to make. I am an organizational freak. Containers make me happy. Containing is what I live for.
So January Something or Other came early this year, and it wasn't even inspired by The End of Christmas. I blame this on IKEA, where I bought some things to help organize my closet and pantry. I wasn't even done unpacking the bags from the shopping trip before I started organizing. Containing waits for nobody.
So today, I organized the pantry. It's the best it's looked since moving in nearly 6 years ago. I cleaned out the kitchen cabinets. They, too, look awesome. I even organized the freezer shelves by food groups. (Don't judge. I'm aware that it's a sickness.)
I can't wait to see what happens here tomorrow. Oh, the organizing to be done.
The Snuggie Gang
The kids had been asking to open a gift on Christmas Eve for years. We've always been Open On Christmas Morning kind of people. But this year, we decided to break tradition. I chose which gift for them each to open. They were giddy with excitement, and tore into the gifts eagerly.
The boys got Snuggies, so by the time Becky got her box opened, she knew exactly what she'd gotten as well. She rocks the feigned excitement like nobody else can.
Micah tried hard to put his on, but it proved more difficult than it looked.
And it just kept getting worse. The poor boy was eaten alive by the Snuggie.
Being as it was the only time the kids would ever wear their Snuggies (gag gifts rock!), I figured it was a perfect photo op. I have to have proof that my children wore Snuggies at one point in time. Things like that are good to keep on hand for future boyfriend/girlfriend occasions. Leverage, n'at.
Leave it to my kids to take the moment and turn it around. While other kids would have been all "are you done yet? Can we take these things off now?" mine were all "Thumbs up, man!" and "Ka-chow!" (complete with weird karate chop moves).
The Snuggie. Well worth the $5 we paid for them.
Word Games
Micah has recently taken an interest in learning. This is very good. The fighting over homework, the pencil throwing during seatwork at school, the walking out on Time To Read With Mom time is a thing of the past. For the most part. It's made a lot of people happy.
Included in this learning is the alphabet. He relishes in the new knowledge. It's come in so handy at restaurants when you're trying to entertain a hungry little boy with ants in his pants. If there's a placemat with local advertisements on it, we point out this letter or that, or we'll just write the alphabet and go over the letters and sounds with Micah. He's generally enthralled until the food arrives. It's awesome on several levels.
But leave it to Micah to find a way to take something awesome and use it against us. While sitting with him until he went to sleep the other night, I was playing Moxie on the iTouch. Moxie is this clever word game that gives you one letter at a time and you've gotta spell words by adding to or changing what you've already put on your board. The letter you're given to work with is showcased in a box at the top of the screen. Micah loved this.
Aaahhhh.
Ssssssss.
Buh.
It was like music to hear the boy speaking each letter's sound. I listened to him verbalize 52 letters, then played another Moxie game, then another, before finally telling Micah that it was bedtime. I'm not disillusioned; I know that Micah was playing me. There are some instances where I'm thrilled to be played.
Oh, Hon, You're So Busted
I had this plan. Other people do it, and quite successfully, so I figured that I could as well. I'd wrap all my Christmas gifts in color coordinated paper. It would be so pretty, having them all matchy-matchy under the tree on Christmas morning.
And then I thought, Self, if you're going to have purty wrap that coordinates so nicely with all the other gifts, why wait until Christmas morning to see them? Why not put them out as part of your holiday display? Put some under the tree, stack small ones on top of the entertainment center, deck the halls with them. (Or at least the bench in the hall.) Tied with raffia in stacks of three (two red and a plaid), they did, indeed, look festive. And decorative. And Martha Stewarty.
But Martha only had one kid, and she was probably raised by the nanny because in reality, when did Martha have time to read books or change diapers what with all her cleaning, cooking, crafting, and gardening?
My 4 kids are the downfall of my genius idea of decorating with wrapped gifts. The gifts that are intended for the kids, mind you. Now I may be dumb, but I'm not entirely stupid. I did not label these wrapped boxes, but instead used a tiny code handwritten on the bottom in an obscure location. I knew this code, but unless the kids knew what they were getting in advance, they wouldn't be cracking it. At least the part about what the gift was. The part that said who the gift belonged to was pretty easy to decode. I wasn't entirely worried, though, because those gifts were in plain sight and I'd be able to tell if they were messed with. If someone did look hard enough to find their name code and decided to take a little look-see, I'd know.
And I was right. I know that 4 gifts have been broken into. I knew that leaving the kids alone for a few hours last weekend while we took Micah to a concert was not in the wrapped gifts' best interest, but it was a chance we took anyway. If the kids want to ruin their own Christmas surprises, more power to them. And lesson learned for me.
Josh's was the first that I found violated. It was completely re-wrapped, and the code put back on. Except the handwriting clearly wasn't mine, and the code said nothing at all. It wasn't even a code, more like a mess of squiggles trying to pose as something. I opened it to see what it was, and ironically it was the pajama pants that Josh picked out in the store and I told him I'd wrap for Christmas. (Gotta love having teens.) No new surprise there for him, so I wrote a "totally busted, I know this was opened" note, slipped it inside the box, and re-wrapped it. But the other 3 gifts? Those were the daughter's.
She is the last one that I suspected. Oh, how deceived I've been. I have got to think of a sufficient payback for this.
I'm Thinking It's Not in a Box
Inside my head, I know that Christmas is 3 days away. Other than that little fact, though, I'm clueless. None of the holiday wonder has seeped through, nor the excitement of seeing the kids' faces on Christmas morning. I blame the extreme Busy that I have going on, and I hate it. This is the first year this has ever happened to me. I'll be honest here and tell you that I'm hating it.
Tomorrow I vow to find the merry. It'll be late in the season, but still in time for the holiday.
I will revel in the fact that God shared the birth of His Son to shepherds first, and completely disregarded the fact that kings were waiting His birth as well.
I will rejoice with the angels, singing on high, proclaiming that Christ is here.
I will wonder with Mary at the miracle that has taken place.
I will find Christmas, from the inside out.
Concert Wear. Mostly What Not.
The first time I met her, she was standing in front of the school with a student from the Life Skills class. He refused to go inside the building, just like every Monday, she said. If she stood out there with him until all the other kids were inside, she could then coerce him into going in to school. After Monday, he went willingly into school himself.
Micah's principal really cares about her students, and seems to take a special interest in the Life Skills class. I loved her from the start.
She was standing inside the cafeteria where the second graders were gathering before the Christmas concert. She smiled at Micah and said hello as he walked by. She loved his tie, and said she looks forward to seeing what he'll wear to school each day. We allow the boy to dress himself. Today he made the bus driver laugh with his pirate eye patch. He frequently wears ties, over tshirts. The hands-down favorite was the bandanna, necktie, and witch's hat combo. Everyone loved that. I just shake my head as he walks out the door. It's good to be comfortable with who you are, even if who you are is vastly different than anyone else.
We were incredibly proud, and a wee bit glad that we were all alone at the back of the auditorium, when Micah was center stage for the Christmas concert, sporting a green argyle vest and a purple polka dotted tie. It wouldn't have been so bad if the tie didn't hang nearly to his knees. I have got to invest in kid-sized neck wear.
Live From TV
One of Micah's favorite artists has a CD/DVD combo, and he's plumb wore out 3 DVDs with the constant watching. And memorizing. And idol worship. So you can imagine my excitement when I saw that this singer was doing a concert just 40 minutes away. We secured tickets and waiting in anticipation. One of two things would happen.
1. Micah would absolutely love it. I mean, it's his favorite singer, live on stage.
2. Micah would hate it. There are times that he just decides he wants nothing to do with what we think he should, and he sulks and makes life miserable for everyone around him for the duration of the event.
Micah endured the introductory singer, and listened as patiently as he could while the other band played. His boredom was evident when he asked to go to the bathroom 4 times in the first hour. But then the band played a song that he recognized from the radio, and the amazement on his face was wonderful to behold.
That was before Mark Schultz came out on stage. When *he* came out, Micah was thrilled nigh unto death. He sang songs just like on the DVD, only it was live and real right in front of him. Micah got Mark's signature on a CD case. The boy carried that CD to church with him instead of a Bible, and was caught kissing it on a few occasions.
Last year at the holidays, Micah realized that his friends in his Disney movies are real while visiting Disney World. This year at the holidays he realized that Mark Schultz is real, and not just someone on his TV for entertainment purposes. Who knows? Next year he might get to meet the Veggie Tales.
*Photo courtesy of Micah.
It Went Exactly As I Saw It In My Head
Micah was quite the trooper while getting his cavity filled last week. That's why I wasn't really concerned when he went to get a tooth pulled today. It's a baby tooth with very little root, so it's not a major deal. Originally, I saw Micah freaking out, me spazzing, Becky in near hysterics, and the dentist being forcefully removed from my son while I went all Mama Bear on him. That was *before* the stellar cavity appointment. Afterward, I stopped having nightmares of the tooth extraction and started wondering when this new kid walked in and took over Micah's place in our family.
So today at the dentist, Micah wasn't as thrilled with the rub-on Novocaine as we would have liked for him to be. The poor kiddo rinsed his mouth with two entire cups of water, then ended up just putting his tongue in the cup to get rid of the taste. It didn't really work for him. When we decided it was time to move on, things got ugly in a hurry. It went pretty much like it did in my nightmares. Minus the forceful removal of the dentist. Mostly because I was laying under Micah with my arms wrapped around him, but I did make the call to stand down when I saw the look of sheer panic in Becky's eyes. And the tears.
Micah's tooth is still firmly ensconced in his mouth. He's happy, it's happy, and that's where the happy ends.
We are thrilled, however, that he gave the dentist a hug of his own accord after the ordeal was over. Forgiveness is a wonderful thing.
So the next step is scheduling an oral surgical procedure at Children's to remove a baby tooth. Good heavens, and for Pete's sake, and a few other sigh-worthy descriptives. And now, since we're sedating the boy, we'd like to take advantage of down time, as it were. We are also contemplating Ear Tube Placement #8. The Boy has been turning the volume up louder and louder lately, and holding his iPod right up next to his ear even though the whole room can hear it. Methinks it might be time for that next set anyway.
And The List Goes On
More ways to lose your sanity at the holidays. Check these out.
1. Reindeer humping. Apparently it's all the teen rage, and my head is exploding with the whole "you can't do that, it's a cousin to vandalism" speech that I give every third day during the holiday season.
2. Sewing machines on the fritz. Two of them. Broken. Because I have so much work to do and looming deadlines. All I can say is thank goodness for borrowed machines. That work.
3. Failing to latch the back hatch of the Suzuki after getting groceries. That gallon of milk and mega bag of cereal laying in the middle of the road would be ours. I'm just glad that's all we lost, but for crying out loud if I was going to waste $10 I'd far rather have given it to someone randomly to add joy to the holidays.
4. Scheduling family times for the holiday, working around Sam's schedule. Why yes, he does work Christmas day. People are sick on holidays, too.
5. Puppies! Granted, they're not any kind of stress at this point in their wee little lives, but we have them. And yes, I'm bragging. I have puppies! Oh, the fun, fun stress reliever those things are.
Ahhhhh. I have puppies.
The Truth Behind the Suit
Sam's family is all about parties at holidays. Both his parents come from large families, and the brothers and sisters get together at Christmas for a catch-up. Of course, their kids come, and the grandkids. We're talking 50 people minimum at these gigs. Each side of the family has one. His mom's side has an in with Santa, who makes an appearance to distribute gifts to the kids. This is always way too much fun.
There's the whole fitting of the suit thing to laugh about, and the attachment of the beard (or detachment, as it is), and the love/hate thing that kids have with him. Love the gifts, hate the guy in the red suit. Okay, it might be more pure fear than hate. We've all seen it.
I am determined to completely blow the whole Santa thing over this party. Every single year. Last year I made shirts for each of my kids, and Santa generously handed them out. (Parents provide the gifts.) Luke was kind of weirded out. "Mom," he said. "Santa's elves make shirts just like yours." Oops. Of course, everyone knows that Santa gives gifts at Christmas, and the elves shop elsewhere (like The Rocking Pony, duh) for before-Christmas gifts. They just don't have the time to make everything, what with the holiday rush and all. (Got out of that one!)
This year, Luke was questioning things. "Mom, why do the teens always say 'who will play Santa this year?'" And my mind started working in overtime, buzzing with words, trying to make them form something that would make sense to a ten year old boy without lying. (We encourage belief here, but we do not lie about things.) And as I'm frantically coming up with nothing, Luke said, "I think it's because the teens want me to think that there is no Santa. But the joke is on them because there *is* a Santa."
Yep, Luke, that's it exactly.
Top Ten Holiday Countdown to the Loss of Sanity
10. Get all your holiday decor out and let it clutter up every room of the house for two entire weeks before deciding that you'll either do something with it, or put it away unused this year. Procrastinate longer and head right into the third week of epic clutter.
9. Wrap all your gifts as soon as you get them (or as soon as the kids are in school/asleep) and set them around the house as decor. Constantly monitor the kids to keep them from snooping, shaking and unwrapping.
8. Hide presents. The attic is stellar for this right up until you send the teen boy up to put away empty boxes. Only after he's up there for 15 minutes do you realize that his unwrapped gift is where the empty boxes would go.
7. School cancellations the first week of December. Seriously? It's going to be a very long winter, isn't it?
6. Finding better deals on gifts that you already bought. Now you're forced to snoop and dig in the wrapped gifts to secretly unwrap the more expensive one to return. That wrapping thing looks good, but it sucks the jolly right out of the holiday.
5. Christmas Plays. They're all fun and happy in October when the kids start practicing, but by the time the actual play comes you just want it to be over and done. And don't forget the costume that you waited until last minute to put together.
4. Dogs. While this is not a holiday-only invasion in my house, their hair and random piles of homemade presents send me over the edge at this time of year. Why? WHY? I mean, are they not getting enough attention that they suddenly have the urge to soil my house? Because they know better! And yet they regress every holiday.
3. Sewing. Because it sounds like a really good plan to have a sale at the holidays, but in reality it's the last thing that I have time for. Once I take people's money and spend it, I now have no choice but to make their shirt. (I'm eternally grateful to my loyal customers though. Don't get me wrong. It's my own stupidity, running last minute sales and making more work.)
2. Getting that last gift. I'm a through-the-year kind of shopper, and am generally done by the end of summer. But there are always gifts that I don't have until the last minute. Mostly this is because I put Sam in charge of gifts for the men in the family, and he puts it off until Christmas Eve, then says "did we ever get anything for..." That's when my head explodes and I sit at the computer and print off an online gift certificate. Nothing says "you're so special" like a piece of paper printed from home.
1. Santa Claus. Kids are terrified of him, yet write to him in hopes of getting the desires of their little hearts. He makes extra work in the buying and wrapping department for parents. And parents deal with the fallout when the fat guy in the red suit doesn't bring every last thing the kids ask for.
What's on your Top 10?
The Thousand Dollar Out of Pocket Co-Pay Smile
Eighteen months ago, we were such newbies in the world of orthodontics. At that first appointment, the dentist outlined exactly what was going to happen, along with a timeline and various scenarios. Following that were appointments every six weeks, impressions made, spacers, expanders and braces fitted, repairs done, tightening and more tightening, and retainers given.
We got instructions from the get-go. Things like "cut food into small pieces" and "no corn on the cob" and "absolutely no gum or gummy candy." That last one really saddened Luke. The poor kid was a trooper through it all and never once did he sneak any gummy goodness. In fact, he went the extra mile and asked teachers and friends if they could provide him with non-gummy treats when they doled out goodies. But all the while, Luke was dreaming of brightly colored bears and worms. And he reminded me of that promise that I made him frequently.
It's probably a good thing, too, because I tend to forget just about anything of importance.
Luke got his braces off yesterday. Because ten year old boys share good news like this, everyone in his world knew when the Big Date was. For the Kids Club exchange at church, the girl who drew his name got him two bags of gummy candy, and a tin of chewing gum. At the candy store last weekend, Luke overlooked all the chocolates and filled his bag with gummies. He was saving them for The Big Day. His stockpile is enormous. I actually had to ask the dentist how many hours per day his retainers need to be in, because he could potentially be chewing gummy things in all of his spare time for weeks.
I now know why he chose funky colors for his retainers. Nobody sees them when they're in his mouth, so the embedded smiley face and polka dots seemed like a moot point. But now I see the wisdom. With all the chewing he's doing to make up for 18 months of lost time, those retainers in hot pink and camoflauge, are laying around on the counter a lot. (No worries, people. I limit what he eats daily. His teeth won't rot out next week.)
On a side note, the dentist only wears blue shirts. I know this because he's always wearing blue shirts wehn we're in. Plus, he has a Wall of Clients where photos are posted. It's a grid of 72 photos and in every single one of them, he's wearing a blue shirt. I'd love to get him a green one for Christmas. It would just be funny.
On the Third Day of Christmas We Were Banned From Dunhams
Micah has been getting up earlier and earlier in the mornings. I don't know what ails the kid. Last weekend he was up at 5 in the AM. Five. If Why is the question, I'm looking for someone to tell me the answer. You'd think that with this kind of overtired going on, we'd have the good sense to not take Micah on an all day shopping trip.
We lack good sense.
The last store of the day (which wasn't planned to be our last one at the time) was Dunham's Sports. It's a fun kind of store for kids, and one where I can entertain Micah for quite a while, allowing others to shop. When the boy found the golf ball aisle he thought he was in little boy heaven. He found a bucket of colored foam ones and wouldn't let go of them. I figured that if he carried them around, his hands would be occupied and he's stay out of trouble.
I have poor reasoning skills.
I realized the error of my thought process when I heard Micah's voice. It wasn't from the next aisle, or from behind me, or even from the other end of the store. It was all over the store. Turning around, I saw Micah holding a phone up to his ear, making a public service announcement to the shoppers at Dunham's.
Why would someone put a phone at Micah's eye level? He didn't even have to reach up to push buttons and pick up the receiver. I am pushing off the blame for that unintelligible announcement on the store.
As we were in the checkout line, Micah kept inching toward the door. Keeping a close eye on him, I realized that he was acting weirdly. He'd walk back, then forth, then back again, and stop and twirl. It was then that I realized that he saw himself on the surveillance television. We were clearly caught on tape, and there was no getting out of that store unrecognized. I turned back to the cashier and was transacting business when Becky hung her head and groaned.
It takes a lot to mortify our kids. We live with Micah.
The boy was on the floor making snow angels. Without snow. Watching himself on the screen of the television above his head. It was awesome.
The Dental Recap
Last month at the dentist, it was determined that Micah needed both a cavity filled and a tooth extracted. That day was last Friday.
Being a busy household, I gave this date little thought until Thursday, at which time I promptly started freaking out. A lot. I mean, this is the kid who has gone to the dentist every 6 months for nearly 5 years and just last month for the very first time EVER he let the dentist not only look at his teeth (without trying to draw blood) but also let the dentist examine his teeth. Every single one of his teeth. Without protest. We were ever and ever so proud.
Cue the freak. I don't want my boy to regress to what he was, or worse. How on earth could I subject him to a filling and an extraction? GAAAAAHHHHHHH. (deep breaths, deep breaths)
We called other dentists to see what their strategy was for such things. We contemplated sedating him for the fun event. We debated letting nature run it's course since these were baby teeth we were talking about. (Okay, so that last one wasn't really an option, but at one small point it did cross my mind.)
Before I left for the appointment, I prayed. I prayed for Micah to be brave and cooperative. I prayed for myself to remain in control no matter what happened. And I prayed that the dentist wouldn't have to be physically tackled off my son. Because people, I was willing to go there if need be.
So here's how it went down.
I get to the dentist, we're shown to a room, and I ask if they use Valium.
"You mean for Micah, or for you?"
"Yes."
Micah is the best big boy ever and climbs up into the chair all by himself. He opens his mouth, the dentist takes a look-see, and next thing I know he's nearly finished with the filling. When he's holding the blue light on to seal the deal, Micah starts with a pitiful little tiny cry that is very much saying "I just want this to be done" rather than "I'm freaking out over here!"
And then I nearly cried. My boy sat through the filling of a cavity all by himself, just as big and brave as a grown man. Except he's not. He's a seven year old boy.
It was determined, though, that we'll do the extraction at another date. Even though he was better than the best that I could have imagined, none of us wanted to push him.
Could that boy make me any more proud if he tried?
(Why yes, there *is* a lack of photography at the end of the wordage. That would be Blogger's fault for limiting my photo storage space. Seriously? And they want me to spend money to buy more. I tried deleting photos on older posts to make room in storage, but it seemed to make little difference. This does not make me happy. I may or may not fix it. And I may or may not be dumping Blogger for anyone else that hosts blogs.)
When You're 10, Life is So Uncomplicated
So today is Luke's big birthday. The double digits. And now we officially have a tween in the house again. (That starts at 10, right?)
Luke is the one kid that puts a lot of stock in gifts. The other kids are more into quality, but Luke is all about quantity. In fact, the $5 gift card we got him to Dollar Tree was one of his favorite gifts. (Oh, to be 10 again.)
So to while away time one evening, I asked Luke to write down everything that he'd like to do on his birthday, if he could choose to do whatever he wanted. Being a creative kid, I expected things like "fly a helicopter" and "draw cartoons for Disney." Instead, here's what he dreamed of doing on his birthday.
1. Eat bacon and eggs for breakfast.
2. Go to the penny candy store in Pittsburgh.
3. Eat at Red Robin.
4. Have a scavenger gift for my gift.
5. Eat macaroni and cheese and hot dogs for dinner.
6. The family sings Happy Birthday and we have cake and ice cream.
7. Go to bed after watching TV.
For real? That is what a 10 year old boy dreams of? Hot dogs and macaroni and cheese? Watching TV and going to bed?
Can I be 10 again?
And of all the gifts we gifted to the kid, his hands down very favorite A#1 gift was a party favor pack of pirate eye patches. They were a hit with the whole family, actually. After Micah realized that they weren't tree ornaments, he loved them as well. We still have one hanging on the tree.
It's Now a Full House
We have a collection of plush Disney stockings. There is one for each member of the family, and an extra for the dogs. We started this collection when we visited Disneyland way back in '97 at Christmas. (In hindsight, one should never visit the parks at the Christmas holiday. OOOOOHHHH my word.)
Since we had 2 more kids since that Christmas of '97, we've had to buy more stockings. Ebay was our friend in finding exactly what we needed. But here's the thing: while we have a stocking for everyone, we lack a Woody stocking. I know it would be an extra, but it would so fit into our family. And plus, Micah neeeeeds a Woody stocking.
Yes, needs.
But while I've found this,
this,
and even this,
none of them matched our other stuffed-heads-atop-the-stocking stockings. We were looking for one to go with our collection, that looks like this:
Coordinating the Holidays Begins in the Home
Christmas is the most fun holiday ever. I love it for the sparkly and twinkly lights, and the bright colored wrapping, and glitter and bows and good will toward men.
*sigh*
Because of my deep and abiding love for all things Christmassy, I have decor for this holiday to rival any store's display of goods. The attic is half filled with my wondermas things; the other half is filled with random attic stuff. What's very nice is that I can decorate the entire house - every single room - for the season. When we moved in here, I did that very thing. Over the years I cut back, starting with the master bath, and then the upstairs in general.
This year I had Sam help me dig out the decor, but decided that I'd just choose the best and most fun things out of it and display this year. I wasn't going to do Everything All Over Everywhere this year because of time and a current love affair with lack of clutter that I'm having. I figured that this would make Sam happy because he's always "you have too much stuff" and "how many trees does one family need?"
Which is why this year Sam was all, "you should put a tree in the hallway, too" and "when are you going to finish decorating?" And this year he made some suggestions for outdoor decor, whereas in the past he's been all "really? We need to decorate out there, too? I'm not stringing lights."
We really need to coordinate which years we're going to go all out and which years we're not. It would make things easier, that's for sure.
