Post Christmas Post

Maggie's Christmas socks from Eddie and  Grace. 

Christmas has come and gone. It was lovely. Exhausting, but lovely. Maggie stayed healthy (but she's getting sick now), my boys were here. All was right with the world. Now I am fighting the urge to throw the Christmas tree out the front window so I can restore what passes for order around here.

Eddie and Grace arrived from Southern California late Friday night and stayed until Monday. My father in law arrived Thursday and was here for the whole weekend. Tim stayed here on Christmas Eve night and had to sleep on the floor because there was no room at the Inn. We tried to draw the parallels, but a pad and sleeping bag on the floor isn't quite a manger.

Here are Maggie and Tim just before we left for Church on Christmas Eve. 

We stayed home for both Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. This year, for the first time I didn't even take Maggie to church with us on Christmas Eve afternoon. It's a difficult time of year for her health wise and the crowds of coughing people at church seemed like an easily avoidable risk. Besides, the stares of people in church creep all of us out. They are either fascinated or look at us doe eyed like we have given them perspective at Christmastime. Thanks, but that's not a role I care to play. Of course once there I felt tremendously guilty and sad that she wasn't with us. Can't win.

We have had a Christmas Eve dinner of cracked crab and ravioli for as many years as I can remember. This year was no exception. My mom and Steve's dad were here along with my brother and his family and all of us. My sister Joan and her family came by before dinner to visit so there were 16 people in and out of here. Christmas Day is was just the five of us and my father in law. Poor Tim had to work at noon on Christmas Day because God forbid people have to do without their Starbucks Latte for a day. That was a bummer for him, but he was here for the gift giving frenzy and came back and ate dinner here. Best of a bad situation.

Of course there was one dramatic moment after everyone left on Christmas Eve night. Steve was upstairs helping his dad get settled, the boys and Grace were in the living room talking and Maggie and I were in her room. I put her up on the bed and was changing her diaper. Maggie's room is straight back from the living room - a distance of maybe 20-25 feet through the dining room. They can see me, which turned out to be a very good thing. Maggie's muscle tone is especially tight lately (probably because she was getting sick) and changing her when she's like that is very challenging. She was in a very awkward position and suddenly did this Olympic diver twist and flew off the (very high) bed. I screeched as it happened and was able to "catch" her in mid air to break her fall, but there was NO WAY I could have held on.

 I didn't have to. The boys appeared out of nowhere before she hit the ground and saved the day. They must have seen it unfolding because they were there in a flash. I didn't know either of them could move that fast. It was like they had winged feet. They said it felt like one step instead of five or six. Maggie thought it was hilarious. She already thinks of them as heroes. Right then, so did I. We were damsels in distress and they saved the day.  

If that was my Christmas magic moment, I will take it happily.