Post-Christmas Perks

Christmas wiped out the last three weeks but good. Amounts spent were carefully calibrated, piles measured, number of gifts to open evened out. Tamales were made for Christmas Eve dinner (thank you, Mari!), some delicious brunch and then traditional ham and potatoes were prepared and eaten for the day itself. We sang, we read scriptures, we visited family. My work here is done, for the month. Whew!

The Christmas season aside, this is my favorite time of the year in San Diego. I've been called a wimp more than once for living in a city with almost no climatological adversity, but I sure love those sunny, 70 degree December days. The dirt is soft and rich, since it is the rainy season, and the weeds come out with a gentle tug. Everything is green and thriving. The sun is warm on my back as I kneel in the damp ground and clear stinging nettle from under my budding apricot tree. Mmmmmmm. This is the weather we pay for!

Vacation time is a blessing for family relationships as well. The children are so much more relaxed with no school and sports craziness, and minus all that pressure, we are all easier to get along with. We still have our moments, however. At the conclusion last night's fervent family prayer (that the mother was certain entered into the hearts of each family member), two children exploded with ill-will even before the last consonant of the "Amen" had been completed. "Why were you poking me all through prayer?!" "You were tapping your gross foot on me the entire time!" The parents, who in former years may have knocked a couple of heads together for the offense of contention during family prayer, merely exchanged weary looks of mutual sympathy. If we survive the children, we're going on a LONG cruise around the world, a few times.

Gloom and doom

The dog woke me at 2:30 this morning, barking her fool head off. And before I continue, I should note that the only thing in my life that ever fills my head with your common every day expletives, is that DOG! I ran down stairs in my robe and threw her in the garage, getting wet grass on my cold, bare feet that cost me some time removing before climbing back in the bed. Seth was up an hour later, just as I finally drifted off to sleep, because he has a raging poison oak thing going. He got up and bumped around, and coated himself with some expensive dermatologist-recommended cream, and I managed to reach dreamland again about twenty minutes before time to get up for seminary.

It was my turn to get up, so up I got, very groggily and grumpily. I remarked to Matt after everyone was off to school that come April, I will be just that sleepy every morning. We were doomed, I said. He remonstrated that we weren't doomed. He's right, of course--it is a blessing, not a curse, that will visit our family in a few short months. But sleep-deprived ladies feel doomed when they consider a future of prolonged sleep deprivation. And said sleep deprivation looms much more ominously at 40 than it did a few years back.