Last Thursday was book club. It was the annual Christmas Potluck. I started this little tradition when I joined the book club about 5 years ago and I always held it at my house. This year someone else offered to have it at their house and I took that offer as I was just not sure about anything in my life at the time we set up the schedule.
Anyway, I couldn't go.
It was Amelia's Christmas concert at school. Now normally I would have sent the man to the concert because I don't usually give up book club easily. Girls night out, no children, discussing books, men, children, what have you. It's always fun and I always go but...... Amelia, Christmas songs, gingerbread houses, Amelia, (did I mention that already)? Since I am completely enamored with this child of mine it was a no brainer. The Christmas concert won.
It was 30 minutes long. Seriously?? Don't get me wrong, I'm all for short, to the point concerts, but 15 minutes of gingerbread house decorating and then 15 minutes of singing? That's it? That's all I get? I missed book club for this?
I missed book club for this.
This is the face that gets made when you tell the wee one that there is no more icing for the house.
The man, being a framer, had to put his magic touch on it.
Sing, sweet child, sing.
Holden and Amelia, at home, 30 minutes later, enjoying the fruits of their labour.
I was sort of in a mood after this. I wanted to wallow. So I decided that since I was technically supposed to be at book club that I would take the night off, put my jammies on, grab the leftovers of my fave salad from the fridge, tell the man he was in charge of the children's bedtime routine, and go downstairs and watch my recorded shows.
When I came out of my room from putting on my jammies I went to the fridge to discover that my salad was gone. I went downstairs and there was the man, in front of the only tv in the house with cable, watching a How It's Made marathon (is there a worse show on the planet than How It's Made?) eating my salad with the remote in his hands.
Clearly he missed the memo on what my plans were for the night. I let him know I was really super annoyed with him and then I stormed up the stairs and lovingly put the two youngest children to bed. (That wasn't sarcasm, I wasn't mad at them, I did put them to bed lovingly.... just so you know).
When I whined on facebook about it my brother commented with "suck it up Princess." I found this very interesting. See, I fancy myself a bit of a princess. And my experience with being a princess and with dealing with a few princesses over my time is this: Princesses DONT NEED TO SUCK IT UP. It is the one perk of being the Princess.
Am I wrong?
So the man ruined my night which was already mostly ruined. I ignored him until the next day when I figured he had suffered enough. In true man form though, he decided that my annoyance with his super insensitive behaviour was enough for him to be mad at me back. I calmly informed him that nope, I held the monopoly on annoyance for the incident in question and he had no grounds to be even remotely upset with me. He nodded in feigned agreeance and we went out on a date.
Saturday we set up Christmas. The children were starting to show high levels of stress that there was no tree yet and it came to my attention that the little ones thought maybe Santa wouldn't come if there wasn't a tree. We set it up. Holden (7) said things like "decorating the tree brings me joy" and "setting up Christmas brings the Christmas spirit and that brings me joy" the whole time we decorated. It was, um..... interesting.
The man and Amelia working out the logistics of the the star which is technically not a tree topper.
Hallelujah. The tree. Does it feel like Christmas yet? Anyone?? Anyone??