Sunday, December 20, 2009

'twas the sunday before Christmas (m)

Woke up to find my undecorated Christmas tree listing 40 degrees to the starboard side.  While the lights had been put on the tree, the extension cord ran directly in front of it.  Since the tree is in the front hall of our house, this all but guarantees that at least one guest will trip and fall.  My crew of men said I was being "fussy".  This made me want to eat.  I made a note to myself that stress is one of my triggers for overeating.

Instead, I went into the kitchen to make breakfast for everyone.  Pancakes (with and without blueberries), eggs, cheese and onion omelets.  Bagels, hot chocolate. I had Special K with strawberries.

The blizzard dropped about 18 inches of snow around our area and the house looks like something out of a postcard.  My husband and two sons shoveled around our house and then, mercifully, drove 40 minutes to my mother's house to shovel her out (she usually stays at my house weekends but, with the forecast, high-tailed it out of here because "I don't want to get stuck at your house, God forbid.").  This left me some quiet time to finishing wrapping and preparing for my dinner guests on Monday.  My nephew is staying with us while at law school and is studying for his final exam.  He is coming down with a cold.  I made him soup and I had tea for lunch, saving my points for dinner.

At six p.m., Sam and I attended a prayer service for my friend, A., who has cancer.  A. is the mother of Sam's classmate from high school.  All the boys and their mothers were there.  The inside of the church was decorated for Christmas, candlelight was everywhere, and fresh-fallen snow completed the backdrop for a magical evening.  The service was inspiring and A. greeted each of us with her gorgeous smile.  I think she's keeping us going as much as we are helping her.

Came out of the church to find my car being towed.  Literally, jacked up.  Sam waved them down and got them to unhook the car.  Pop goes the magical mood.

Went to dinner at a great seafood restaurant.  Place was empty because of the storm.    The boys order.  The other mothers order.  I just wanted a simple piece of white fish (haddock, etc), broiled with steamed broccoli.  No dice.  The waiter barely spoke English, but that wasn't the problem.  I think it was because he was not a waitress.  The women, I find, get the whole diet thing.  Men grow impatient.  Just check the box, lady, is what I hear.  If you don't see it, don't ask for it.  I get the broiled swordfish with brocoli rabe.  I ask for less oil on the rabe.  He says it will cost extra.  More money for less oil? I ask.  My friends say..."JUST GET IT".   I did. 

Came home.  Harrison was having a party.  Kids were sledding down our hill, then into the hot tub.  They made gingerbread men.  Stuff all over the place.  My husband was watching Law and Order SVU.

I cleaned up, waited for the kids to be picked up by the parents.  The gingerbread men looked great, but I quickly wrapped them up and tucked them into a drawer in the refrigerator.

Only 5 more days till Christmas.

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