* It's Sunday night and I am completely caught up on ironing. COMPLETELY. The Mister has enough ironed dress shirts to wear through the first week of 2011. (Okay, this statement makes him sound like a clothes horse. Truly, he's not, although he has now taken over 50% of my 50% of the closet. But that's beside the point. It's just that he has a few days off next week, and his entire company shuts down and gives the week between Christmas and New Years as vacation.)
* The reason he can take over 50% of my small 50% of our small closet is that I have little wardrobe left. Not because I've grown fat like a pig, but apparently because I'm messy like a pig and ruin my clothes quickly. I like to think of my kids as the messy little piggies and me as the super-involved, hands-on Momma who gets dirty by default (catch my sarcastic drift here?). But truthfully, I'm a mess. I'm messy in the kitchen, messy in the garden, and messy in general. Will I ever outgrow this phase of life? Will I ever look put together and fashionable?
My Magic 8-Ball says, "not likely."
I console myself by reminding myself that the fashion industry is an ecological and financial disaster of horrific proportion.
* Speaking of laundry, this past week I had a single person lament to me about how much laundry they had to do.
Normally I would laugh so hard that I wouldn't be able to respond over this one, but I was PMS-ing. Here are my thoughts:
1) Seriously. You are ONE person. ONE.
2) Seriously. I have SEVEN people in my family. SEVEN. Did they honestly think they were going to get one iota of sympathy out of me?!?
Now, had this person been a new college student out doing laundry for the first time, I would have empathized. It's a big change. Had they been newly married or had a new baby, I would empathize, because anytime you add on an additional source of laundry, whether it be a husband or a baby, it's a change. A Big Change.
Yet this person had been doing their own laundry for nearly 20 years. Sweetheart, I do more laundry by Tuesday noon than you do in an entire week. Sheesh.
* Not only is it Sunday night and I have all my laundry done, it is also Sunday night 2 weeks before Christmas and I have my Christmas cards & letters sent out.
Let me get this out here: I LOVE Christmas cards.
I know a lot of people do not do Christmas cards. If they are a huge pain in your you-know-where and you disdain the entire thought, then don't make yourself miserable. I'm okay with that. And I'll send you a card anyways, and won't be offended if you don't send one back. Because I send them to people I love, care about or like to keep in touch with, and I think it's fun to get something personal in the mail.
What I'm not okay with is people bashing those of us who do send Christmas cards. Now, each year, I get a few that are very over-the-top-look-how-awesome-we-are. To each their own. I do write a letter with my cards, but I try to keep it real. I try to include a little reminder that we are all too human, and a little amusing self-deprecation, at my expense, the Mister's expense and my children's, too.
How many times a week do you get a personal piece of mail in your physical mailbox? Rarely, if ever, right? I like sending out something that I created. I like receiving cards and hearing about other people's years and seeing how big their kids have grown. And I love looking through all my own cards from years past, seeing how my kids have grown each year.
In a fast-paced world of technology and instant communication, I'm all for slowing it down and keeping with tradition by sending out Christmas cards.
* We have a ton of snow. My kids have spent the majority of the day, outside, playing. They have rosy cheeks and have devoured 2 bowls of homemade tomato vegetable soup each. While they are watching their ritual half hour of Funniest Home Videos before bedtime, I can see their eyes drooping. Tired, happy bodies with warm, full bellies.
Finally, a moment that makes me feel like I'm doing something right as a Mom. Sounds like a pretty good way to end a snowed-in weekend.