Fire Hose Drinking

Christmas is over.

Whew.

We had an incredibly satisfying, incredibly hectic, incredibly incredible two weeks.

It was like trying to drink from a fire hose. Too much fun. Too much laughter. Too many desserts. Too many activities. Too many people I love in too short a time.

Undoubtedly, I'll share a few holiday stories in the coming days, including the final chapter in The Great Pet Quest of 2008.

But seeing as I've only even attempted normal for 36 hours now, I'll keep today's blogosphere re-entry simple.

(I've watched a lot of sci-fi. I know what a botched re-entry looks like -- a small room bathed in crimson light, surroundings that are blurred from the shaking, flames, then screams. Which, now that I think about it, isn't all that dissimilar from me when I'm awoken from a nap. Either way, it's ugly. I don't want to go there.)

Enter stage right, a few December pictures.

Christmas morning. The three stooges. I'm surprised the camera was able to catch them sitting still, seeing as they were practically vibrating with excitement.

Looking for presents to distribute. In our family, we take turns opening gifts versus having a free-for-all, and each year, one child (usually the one who can read) plays Santa's elf and delivers each present to its intended recipient. (As long as they can read Mom's handwriting, that is.)

I wish this picture had sound, because then you would be able to hear Teyla saying, "Ooooohhhhhh" in her husky little voice. She was so amazed by Christmas this year. (And this little musical table was her absolute favorite; she still dances to it daily).

Why Connect Four is a dangerous game when you have a baby.

Also ... highchairs? Dangerous, at least for this baby. She will NOT be restrained.

Doesn't matter if the calendar says "Vacation." Babies don't sleep in. Teyla and I have watched many a sunrise over the last few weeks. Her bedhead delights me so, I almost forget I'd rather be sleeping.

Unca Jon and Natalie ...

... Unca Michael and Connor. I feel like I should apologize to my brothers. Every time they enter my house, my children mistake them for chairs.

Teyla and Corey, exploring the Children's Museum. (Yes, she's walking.)

Sledding at sunset.

Homemade marshmallow meets homemade hot chocolate. Bliss defined.

Cousins.

Funny. All of a sudden, I'm ready for the fire hose to unleash on me again.