"a christmas miracle!"

so ryan and i think we're hilarious. i suspect that we're not because no one ever seems to laugh as hard as we do when we're around. so, in the spirit of the holiday season, ryan and i perhaps claimed that one too many things were christmas miracles (because that is hilarious). and ava, the little sponge that she is (example: i describe my car as "hell on wheels" and she scoots right on out to mailbox with the eagerness of a new puppy to inform the mailman that his mail truck is hell on wheels. cool.) has caught on to the trend and has proclaimed many a mundane thing a christmas miracle. she also likes to repeat (or question) that "christmas has been canceled". anyway, i thought you might want to know that. i mean, i know my parents (and ryan's!) do.

so here's our christmas morning breakdown. it began the night before with the tradition of setting christmas treats out for santa, along with some carrots for the reindeer (this process was pronounced a christmas miracle) and then some firm bedtime-ing. ava was a little excited and spent a lot of time requesting drinks of water and one more song.

christmas morning began with ava slamming a plate down on top of ryan's face and announcing that sometime during the night santa had come and had eaten his cookies.

i was just short of devastated. "you went into the living room already?" i asked.

"yes," ava answered, then brightly, "and the reindeer ate the carrots!"

so we go through this huge ordeal to buy presents and hide them, to build presents, to set things up like some jolly old elf snuck into our house and leaves presents behind and come morningtime, all ava really cares about is the fact that somebody ate the cookies and carrots.

"well, did you see what santa left you?" i ask.

"oh, yeah, a pink bike," ava answered. like i just asked her if she remembered to brush her teeth before she went to bed the night before.

so the moment i envisioned as i purchased that stupid pink bike never occurred. the joy, the happiness, the glee, the hands clapping, the feet jumping, the ecstatic exclamations of "it's a christmas miracle!"? none of it. i got none of it.

oh well. hasn't motherhood just been one enormous journey of learning how to cope with all of your careful plans going completely haywire and working with something completely different?

in all fairness, seth, after we poked and prodded to wake him and then bribed him, was thrilled with his little rocking moose.  at least one of my children will fulfill my dreams as i play st nick for him.

naturally, the number of presents overwhelmed them, i enjoyed my presents and was not overwhelmed and ryan videotaped far too much. including the reaction to my opening a present and, as soon as he'd shut the darn thing off he asked, "so, what do you really think?"

oh please. i don't have enough minutes in my day to fake a reaction to a christmas present.

luckily my family has a christmas tradition good enough to cure the disappointment of a jilted santa claus. after the magic of christmas had lifted, we packed up and headed over for a heart attack breakfast: a once a year treat prepared by my father which includes scrambled eggs, bacon, homemade hash browns and fresh squeezed orange juice.  it is divine.

so while we ate food that slowly clogged our arteries, ava pronounced her bacon a christmas miracle and i found myself looking forward to next year; another shot at experiencing some pure, unadulterated joy.

*also, i'd like to take this opportunity to record the moment where, unable to bear leaving his blankee for even a few moments, seth dragged his blankee into the bathtub. despite my washing the thing weekly, the bath water turned light brown. it was disgusting. but as seth snuggled in the bath, i couldn't help but smile.

kids do the weirdest things to you. i swear, at one point, i was a reasonable adult who did more than chit chat about her kids all day.