Sunday, December 1, 2013

But that's supposed to by MY thing

You may remember that I am a little addicted to Christmas decorations. You see, in a former life, OK, not really a former life but before Child 2 was born, I was a floral designer in a craft store and I made wreaths, lots and lots of wreaths, for fall, and Halloween, and Christmas, and Hanukkah  and Valentine's Day, and along with the job came a discount on everything in the store, so I bought lots and lots of Christmas decorations, and I've kept adding over the years, and um, now I think we might just have too many. Maybe. It's hard to tell because we haven't got them all up yet. I promise, it's much more attractive than those people who decorate like someone vomited Christmas all over the places. There is a color scheme, and it is all artfully placed. But there is a lot of it and I'm thinking that at some point, we might need to cull it a little bit. But not yet, I'm not ready yet. This would be way, way too many decorations. Is that a swan with the wise men? Or are those elves, and why is th manger bigger than the church and why is poor Mrs. Santa exiled to the back of the porch away from everyone all by her lonesome? Poor Mrs. Claus always being left behind and having to wear that stupid bun.

Thankfully, the children are old enough that I can say, just start putting it all up, and they go for it. They did almost all of the tree decorating tonight, except the ribbon and some of the poinsettias, because even though the tree is supposed to be my thing, now that I know for certain I am allergic to it, I can tell that I react worse when I touch it. My face is all red and swollen, I can't stop sneezing, and I have a rash on my hands--all from decorating the tree. I must have had this going on for years, but I never connected it with the tree. But I can't give up the tree. I already gave up chocolate and wheat and the. tree. is. staying. period. However, I think I can bribe people to water it and then take it down later. Or at least I can threaten to never do a real tree again. That might just work because it's something I'm clearly considering.

Baby Pandas are better than brownies, and this one is so scrumptious, you could just eat her up.

Figuratively, that is. It is illegal to eat pandas and I would never, ever do that. But the National Zoo finally gave her a name since she has reached 100 days old and it is Bao Bao, or 宝宝, which means treasure. So welcome, little Treasure! You are as precious as your name implies.

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