And I don’t know how we managed to get away with it, considering we have a four-year-old and a six-year-old in our house, but we did not get up at the stroke of dawn to open gifts. In fact, as I was tucking the kids into bed on Christmas Eve, our daughter said to me, “Mom, we don’t need to get up early tomorrow to open presents. I think I’ll just get up with Connor and watch TV. And then you and Dad can get ready and take a shower. And then we’ll have breakfast and get our clothes on. And then we’ll open presents.”
Ummmm. Alrighty then. Splendid idea!
And that’s pretty much the way our Christmas morning went – except we put off breakfast (which was really more of a brunch, since it’s genetically impossible for me to eat a Christmas breakfast before noon) until after the gift-opening frenzy. And I didn’t take a shower beforehand either. It just feels like a pajama week to me. After all, why get dressed when you are doing nothing but sleeping, eating, playing games and attempting to to walk up the stairs without collapsing into a fit of contractions?
Besides, we haven’t seen the sun much this week. The sky has been very gray, the temperature in the 20s (you knew it was coming back to the weather, didn’t you?) and it’s been snowing on and off since Christmas afternoon. Pajamas are necessary for hibernation.
(Oh, and speaking of the Christmas snow. It was gorgeous. Huge, fluffy, sparkling flakes that piled up like goose down. Here are a few pictures that really don't do it justice. But I had to share.)
OK. Obviously, there’s not much news to report on this end. Tomorrow, I’ll be back with an update on the pregnancy (complete with belly shots). Turns out, “Sparkles” might be here sooner than we previously thought.
I’d better get that nursery ready.
At least I can do that in my pajamas.
