In November, I had grand plans for December. I was going to bake and sew and string cranberries and popcorn. There were going to be handmade teacher gifts and mama-made clothes under the tree. The house was going to be peaceful, joyful, and holiday-laden.
And somehow, life happened. And my last free days while O was in school were suddenly so overscheduled I felt like I was being pulled in ten different directions and getting nothing done.
And I searched for the quiet where I could find it and promised myself it would come.
And you know what? Today is December 22nd. I was up (happily) at 6am making pumpkin muffins for Ella to take in for the teachers and staff at her school. It is just after 10 and I have sat and read with O, needle felted my first little ladybug, and sewn cloth Christmas bags to put some gifts under the tree.
O is playing quietly by himself with a fusion of Playmobil, blocks, and The Dad's old GI Joe vehicles. The house is quiet. And all is good. It's a little late, but it is here. And I am oh. so. content...
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