Well - I have to confess, I wimped out. The boxes of decorations are still below the other 8 feet of boxes. BUT I bought some cheap (and I mean cheap) decorations at the dollar store. (I told you cheap!)
The kids had fun decorating the hearth and living room as well as the balcony that connects the two sides of the house. Sounds like a mansion, eh? But in truth it is a small 3 bedroom log house with a living room, small (to me) kitchen and dining area. Still - I feel like a millionaire with my house looking all jolly and Christmasy and happy children sipping egg nog and munching on cookies. (Store bought, I'm afraid. After 5 hours of marathon stocking stuffer shopping and Christmas grocery shopping, I have little ambition left for baking)
Now I need to talk to a certain 9 year old who has the memory of an elephant and is reminding the rest of the gang about the decorations that are still supporting the 8 ft wall of boxes filled with untold treasures brought from our previous home - a five bedroom 2 story brick. (Sigh...)
Now I have an appointment with St Nick. I usually end up meeting with him on Christmas Eve but in hopes of staving off that midnight marathon of wrapping (which when you multiply by 12 can go on for hours - no matter how simple you try to keep it!) I managed to wrangle an early appointment with him. He helped me last night go through my various piles while small ears leaned against my bedroom door and little snacks were passed though the door opened barely a crack. We discovered (as usual) that some piles were dangerously high and can not possibly hope to fit into one lone stocking, while others will barely fill a toe. Hence my whirlwind shopping spree that my husband has already forgiven me for. (Surprising what a little egg nog can accomplish!)
Then this morning little Emma, with eyes aglow with excitment, danced around the kitchen waving her beloved St Nick mug telling how HE had been in Mummy's room last watching a 'Cwitmass Mooie while Mummy wapped presents!' She showed me St Nick on her 2 inch high mug - just the perfect size for a little egg nog by the fire or a touch of cocoa with a peppermint stick in it, and reminded me again how he had been here last night. I was digging yesterday’s laundry out of the washer and stuffing it in the dryer when I heard the inevitable crash.
Emma was devastated. She collapsed to the floor in a puddle of tears, and I wrapped my arms around her while she sobbed over her broken mug. Children came running from all over the house to see what was wrong. Jonathan, her 20 year old brother and God-father rubbed her back and tried to offer her solace. I promised to look for another copy of the same, but in my heart seriously doubted such a mug would be found so close to Christmas Eve. Wiping her tears she accepted the loan of my Christmas mug.
After hitting two Wal-Mart’s I finally found the exact picture of St Nick, but on a regular sized mug and beside it a copy of Nathaniel's snowman mug. Not as cute as the miniatures they had received on December 6th. But it was St Nick, and with a twin for Nathaniel - there would be no arguments regarding the fairness of servings.
She was thrilled with it. All is well with the world and now... St Nick awaits. I must not keep him waiting!
Blessings
mum2twelve aka Christi
PS Tomorrow both of my daughters, God willing, arrive!
We are all SOOOOO excited!