Look How Pretty!!
Hey, does it look different ?? Does it look, well, like, hipper or all form-follows-function uber cool?
What? No difference? Are you sure?
Okay, so maybe you can't tell but I am sitting here typing from my brand-new laptop, which looks like something that should be in the Museum of Modern Art!
And, PEOPLE, it is a MAC.
Because my husband so totally and completely spoils me.
(Actually, can I just say this? He spoils EVERY BEING in this family. His honest delight in the secrets and magic of Christmas make me fall in love with him six million times over, every single year. I don't want to gush but, well, the dude ROCKS.)
I can't actually do much with the new computer yet (I just thought I'd copied this entry to paste it in a new window and, whoopsie, gone forever) but I spent a good part of yesterday playing with it. In between eating and napping and being honestly appalled at the behavior of one Jane Cooper, 8, who terrorized us all with her bad mood and incessant whining.
She's not normally such a curmudgeon but she was very, very tired. Because she got up at 3:00AM (kill me) and then woke her sister up after I told her to go back to bed, there would be no Christmas until it was light outside. So, she enlisted her sister for moral support and crept down the stairs and started screaming that SANTA HAD BROUGHT HER A DOLLHOUSE BIG ENOUGH FOR BARBIES!
Ana, 10, stayed at the top of the stairs because she is the best behaved kid on the planet and we always ask the kids not to go downstairs before we go down and start the video camera. I love to capture their faces when they behold the bounty brought to them by Santa. It's my favorite part of the entire Christmas tradition, and the reason I have always refused to travel at Christmas --the magic of watching my kids come down the stairs-- of their honest, innocent delight and wonderment-- has been, up until this year, enough to make the entire freaking Christmas season worth it.
But back to Jane, Coop got up and tucked her back into bed at 3:40, where she was way too excited to go back to sleep for hours and then got up in such a state that she slowly sucked the joy out of all of us, proving once again that if you spoil your children, you get SPOILED CHILDREN. And if your children are TIRED, you get SPOILED, TIRED CHILDREN FROM HADES. Finally, we banished the children upstairs to watch "Ernest" movies (what was Santa thinking?) while we watched "The Dark Knight" downstairs.
(Is that movie six hours long or what? And is it one of the best movies of that genre EVER? I loved it, and due to my husband's quiet obsession with all things comic-book-related, I have seen them ALL. No, seriously, I have seen them ALL.)
At any rate, in the end, Christmas happened. And I got to have my own little moments of reflection and joy. And frankly, I bet that next year we are traveling, so this year when it was just the four of us, may end up being one of the best years ever.
I hope yours were more happy and less crabby. More blessings and less endurance. Either way, we learn and grow.
love you guys,
Barb
What? No difference? Are you sure?
Okay, so maybe you can't tell but I am sitting here typing from my brand-new laptop, which looks like something that should be in the Museum of Modern Art!
And, PEOPLE, it is a MAC.
Because my husband so totally and completely spoils me.
(Actually, can I just say this? He spoils EVERY BEING in this family. His honest delight in the secrets and magic of Christmas make me fall in love with him six million times over, every single year. I don't want to gush but, well, the dude ROCKS.)
I can't actually do much with the new computer yet (I just thought I'd copied this entry to paste it in a new window and, whoopsie, gone forever) but I spent a good part of yesterday playing with it. In between eating and napping and being honestly appalled at the behavior of one Jane Cooper, 8, who terrorized us all with her bad mood and incessant whining.
She's not normally such a curmudgeon but she was very, very tired. Because she got up at 3:00AM (kill me) and then woke her sister up after I told her to go back to bed, there would be no Christmas until it was light outside. So, she enlisted her sister for moral support and crept down the stairs and started screaming that SANTA HAD BROUGHT HER A DOLLHOUSE BIG ENOUGH FOR BARBIES!
Ana, 10, stayed at the top of the stairs because she is the best behaved kid on the planet and we always ask the kids not to go downstairs before we go down and start the video camera. I love to capture their faces when they behold the bounty brought to them by Santa. It's my favorite part of the entire Christmas tradition, and the reason I have always refused to travel at Christmas --the magic of watching my kids come down the stairs-- of their honest, innocent delight and wonderment-- has been, up until this year, enough to make the entire freaking Christmas season worth it.
But back to Jane, Coop got up and tucked her back into bed at 3:40, where she was way too excited to go back to sleep for hours and then got up in such a state that she slowly sucked the joy out of all of us, proving once again that if you spoil your children, you get SPOILED CHILDREN. And if your children are TIRED, you get SPOILED, TIRED CHILDREN FROM HADES. Finally, we banished the children upstairs to watch "Ernest" movies (what was Santa thinking?) while we watched "The Dark Knight" downstairs.
(Is that movie six hours long or what? And is it one of the best movies of that genre EVER? I loved it, and due to my husband's quiet obsession with all things comic-book-related, I have seen them ALL. No, seriously, I have seen them ALL.)
At any rate, in the end, Christmas happened. And I got to have my own little moments of reflection and joy. And frankly, I bet that next year we are traveling, so this year when it was just the four of us, may end up being one of the best years ever.
I hope yours were more happy and less crabby. More blessings and less endurance. Either way, we learn and grow.
love you guys,
Barb
Comments
I love Jane's house. I'm sort of jealous. I'm glad I didn't see a photograph of the Mac.