All this may or may not explain or have anything to do with this:
He is napping with my pink piggy neck pillow around his waist and his beanie on his head surrounded by a sea of blankets and toys. Because, obviously. |
We have a hard time keeping that beanie on his head when he is outside in frigid temps. But he insists on wearing it to bed. Someone please explain this to me.
Siiiiiigh, toddlers.
In other news, apparently everyone else is using their ice days to decorate for Christmas. Except we already did that the weekend before Thanksgiving. I know, I know…I probably deserve this for "not respecting the turkey" and letting Thanksgiving have its day. But Thanksgiving was wicked late this year, and - quite frankly - if it wasn't for Trevor, I probably wouldn't have bothered. Mainly because Christmas always feels like a bunch of extra clutter to me, and it seems silly to get all the decorations out of the attic for only 2-3 weeks. But Trevor is LOVES to decorate for Christmas, and would happily vomit holiday-themed nick nacks all over every spare square inch of surface space if left to his own devices. So, we compromised: he got to decorate as long as we did it early enough to warrant the effort, and I got veto power on all the superfluous crap.
Go ahead. Call me Scrooge.
And for all you peeps who think it is sacreligious to decorate before Black Friday, you *almost* got to me and made me feel guilty. Until I remembered that I don't like to decorate to begin with, and I was planning on EATING said turkey on Thanksgiving, not respecting it (except for maybe how yummy it tastes).
But to Thanksgiving's credit, it (along with the Fourth of July) is one of my favorite holidays. I love that an entire day dedicated to being thankful, eating and spending time with family. If that involves throwing up some twinkly lights and garland while contemplating how many servings of mashed potatoes I can eat after running the Turkey Trot, so be it.
Banner, for one, is thrilled with the tree, ornaments and Little People Nativity (thanks, Aunt Lynn!). His favorite tree-related activity is taking the ornaments off the tree (especially his special "Elmo" ornament I bought him this year) and sticking the lights up his nose. And don't even get me started on how much he loves the nativity set. Baby Jesus keeps ending up on top of the manger, and "Frankensheep" attacks the three wise men four or fives times a day. It is completely awesome. As is the fact that Banner liberated drunk Santa from the tree this afternoon and had him standing over Baby Jesus as if toasting the infant during story time at the manger:
Bad Santa. (The cow is a little too excited about Santa's bottle.) |
Of course, my mother-in-law thinks I should hide drunk Santa so the above predicament doesn't happen again, but where is the fun in that? Because, quite frankly, drunk Santa is a fabulous addition to an iced over world where your 23 month old has somehow figured out how to GET OUT OF A BACKWARDS SLEEP SACK.
Granted it has only happened once this week, but that was one time too many. Trevor and I are back to sleeping in fear of the 3 AM pee soaked nursery.
At least we still have some left over duct tape...
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