My own little Christmas present

Many of you can appreciate this: I am sitting in a quiet house at 9:53 am.  Russell and I went to sleep around 3 am, after wrapping presents.  And not even all of them, just the essential ones.  Our first wake-up call from Emma came at around 7:40.  Now she and Russell are back asleep.  I have cleaned up Emma's room, emptied the dishwasher, prepped a little bit of food/drinks for today's Christmas Eve lunch, washed more dishes, and piddled until most things in my house are how I like them.

And now, here I am.  In a quiet house, drinking my coffee, looking at my calendar, looking at pictures of my darling girl from this holiday season so far, and feeling the new baby trying to somersault, high-kick, and punch her way out.

Let's start with the first thing: my calendar.  Emma's surgery time is noon on Friday, January 3.  We have pre-op on New Year's Eve day, where we'll get the same old information that we get for an MRI...except this time we will probably have to bathe Emma in the Hibiclens soap that they give us.  My mom has surgery this Friday, the 27th, on her knee.  Those are the ugly holiday happenings.  The pretty ones...my sister comes into town today.  Our Christmas Eve service at church...the chiropractor on Friday (I'm pregnant...this is a big deal).

And pictures...well, not a lot of new ones, but enough to generate warm memories for me.  Emma had her Christmas program at school.  The 3-year-olds didn't do a whole lot, and Emma did less than most.  Similar to her "performance" at church, she sat in her wheelchair at the front and looked at what appeared to be hundreds of moms and dads watching what appeared to be thousands of 3- to 5-year-olds crammed on the stage.  I couldn't get close enough to get a good picture of Emma, and her class was at the very bottom, but here's what I got:

Emma's class is waaaay at the bottom left - one of her teachers is standing up in a red sweater with long blonde hair.

More pictures from our holiday season so far:

With sweet Miss Sylvia from our church putting her ornament on the preschool tree:

Finding the elf shoes from last year's stocking:

Roper Mountain Lights:

The aftermath of a cookie decorating station at school:

 

 

Christmas crafts:

 

 

 

 

And now my family is awake.  A sullen 3-year-old.  A broken glass ornament.  And a crying 3-year-old, because Daddy broke an ornament. 

 

 

 

There it is in the floor, right above the red swirl present.  Sorry - too lazy to get off the couch for a better picture.

 

 

Good grief.