New Year's for the Procrastinator

A few weeks ago, Lane came home from work, deposited himself on my kitchen counter and we visited about our respective days while I finished up dinner.

Suddenly, my dear husband gets a strange, strained look on his face: "I appreciate everything you do around the house in taking care of our children and keeping the house clean and running. You do a fantastic job of keeping our friends and family updated on our kids through various media."

My immediate response was skepticism -- not because I didn't appreciate the compliment, but because it was weird and out of left-field.

"What?" I asked.

"And I feel you could be even more effective by keeping the family blog updated," he finished.

I couldn't help but laugh. This was coming from a man I was thoroughly convinced only ever looked at the blog because I had set his computer's home page to the URL. "Who have you been talking to?" I asked.

But the fact remained that it was my New Year's goal to be better at my long-neglected blog (and I recognize I've said that all this past year).

And I know. It's February 11. In my defense, my camera's been lost for 3 weeks.

But, miracle of miracles, my friend said her son found it (we went to a museum together last week, although I last saw it 3 weeks ago when we went to the zoo with Grammie).

So, as soon as I get it, grandparents can delight in photos. In the meantime, I thought I'd catch up a little with Christmas.

The saddest part of my blog neglect: We totally did our Christmas advent (see this or scroll down two posts).

But I got behind and then Lane and I got sick. Not the dreaded flu that has struck down whole families, but the cold that mimics said flu, just without the high temperatures.

I felt like death. And I wanted to stake any person that expressed condolences by telling me that they hoped my "sniffles" went away soon.

Three weeks of feeling like a zombie and 6 weeks later I'm still catching up on house work.

The worst part is that I was struck down the Saturday before Christmas. But of course three small children don't understand. Santa's not sick, so there is no impediment.

So I did my best.

We warned our cousins, who opted out of being exposed. This left Christmas Eve with just the 5 of use acting out a nativity and eating my painstakingly prepared dinner.

Mary and Joseph

Loving on our doll that acted as the Baby Jesus.

Perhaps the cutest wise man EVER, accompanied with a gallant shepard.

Three-fourths of the cast.

 Luckily presents were wrapped, including slippers from Mommy and Daddy

He's wanted these for a full year now.

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and jammies from Grandma and Papa.

That's a tutu that went with her jammies ... she was in seventh heaven.

My darling babies.

 Christmas morning provided so many surprises, it was hard to contain ourselves!

Jane's American doll from Grammie and Papa. She named her Lela, which she thought up all on her own. Lela was my mother's Grandma's name and Jane has never heard me say it.

I made superhero capes for all the kids. Of course, because I'm a procrastinator, these weren't made until the day before, when death was upon me.

Bikes from Santa. This is how they spent the day.

And, one of the best treats of all: Christmas snow. That's right. Seven days previously, I had taken my kids to the park on a 70-degree day. Christmas day we got snow.

Daddy braved the snow, though he was barely out of the worst of his sickness.

He was so cold.

She didn't even care about the cold.

Sick or not, it was a great holiday.

The best part? How exciting the holiday is for my children. It makes this 32-year-old Mommy's heart glad, especially since I'm secretly a 6-year-old when it comes to holidays and birthdays.

Tomorrow I'll retrieve my camera and regal you with Valentine's.