Christmas Hyper

When I was little, holidays made me excited.  I remember my mom telling me again and again, “Don’t get overexcited.”  I remember being very insulted by this.

Not that long ago, I called her and apologized for being insulted.  Because yeah.  I get it.

The hyper, they has it.

Bouncing OFF THE WALLS.  Got presents from their grandparents (Sean’s parents) tonight and it was thrilling.  Got to eat their gingerbread house Sean helped them make tonight and that was thrilling.  Got unlimited potato chips. And cake.  And chocolate milk.  OH MY GOD.

J was super fussy all afternoon/evening.  Wouldn’t settle.  Finally passed out at about 8-9.

A went to bed at 615, having not napped.  Woke at 745 crying and was up and down for an hour crying.  Wouldn’t come to me.  Only wanted Sean.  I won’t pretend that’s not insulting, but given that (a) Christmas just makes me glad she’s alive, and (b) R hated me at that age and grew out of it, I’ll live.  Finally passed out.

C/R didn’t want to go to bed, wanting to keep watching a new Barbie movie.  NO BED.  Then Sean and I told them that Santa couldn’t come until they did.  Next thing we knew, C was running to R, saying, “We need to GO TO BED NOW!”  I haven’t heard one peep from them since.

We put out cookies for Santa, an empty cup, and Uncle Pat wrote a note saying Santa should help himself to milk in the fridge.  We put oats on the lawn for the reindeer.  The girls wore their new matching Dora nighties that my Nana sent them.

Santa has come and gone, gifts all set up.  Watching movies now with Sean and his brother Pat- their parents went back to the hotel.  Took a nice bath.

Had a great 5 mile run earlier today.

Oh, I’m going to run a half marathon.  That’s another topic for another time, but getting back into running is going way better than I anticipated.

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