Merry Christmas Eve!  Up until this morning, I was feeling very solid about being ready for this merriest of vacation weeks.  We had survived the last week of school before vacation, skied at the mountain, caught up with old friends, finished all the wrapping, worked out some crafts, baked some cookies, watched our children play with other children, didn’t forget the elf– not even once– (remembering at 3 AM doesn’t count as forgetting) patted ourselves on the back with a whisper, “This year, we’ve got this…”

I won’t tell you how I flooded a good section of flooring this Christmas Eve morning.  I won’t tell you that while cleaning the fish tanks, vacuuming them, draining them,  the dog slept the entire time.  However, when I went to refill the tanks, he decided to check on the filling progress apparently while I was in the bathroom checking the water temperature.  The children screamed and when I came flying around the corner knowing exactly what had gone down my internal ninja grasped at the lose hose which sent a spray of water over my table into the kitchen onto my baked items to go to Grandma’s.  Thankfully they were protected by disgusting fish water by the grace of Saran Wrap.  I won’t tell you how the whipping hose sent a spray of water also into the Christmas tree.

I won’t tell you how I yelled, “Jesus, Mary and Joseph,” and wasn’t referring to any manger scene in the biblical sense.

I won’t tell you how my youngest reminded me that I probably shouldn’t swear, especially on Christmas Eve.  “Santa is watching, like really watching today, Mom.”  Gotcha.  Is he though?  Is he really?

I won’t tell you how I cleaned up the fish tank disaster to move on to vacuuming the glitter disaster of 2019.  This year’s craft included “Noel” in bright red glitter, which somehow found its way into some cookies we baked last night.  Pure magic to find red glitter in a cookie, let me tell you!  The kids are guessing our dog will actually poop red glitter. and I keep it to myself that they probably will too after today.

I won’t tell you how I had to take apart the ancient Electrolux gifted to me almost two decades ago but really might as old as me.  Try as I might the glitter just seemed to be pushing around and not really getting sucked up.  The kids are outside chopping ice in the driveway so that the grandparents don’t wipe out the next time they visit.  They return inside only having done half the driveway.  “You think Santa would leave half the driveway for a grandparent to slip on and careen out into the road?” I won’t tell you how they looked from one another, shrugged, and smartly returned to finish the job, but not without me hearing the boy say to the girl, “Santa has people for that.  He would not be chipping ice in the driveway at the North Pole.”  A truer statement had never been made on Christmas Eve.

I won’t tell you how when I took apart the hose to the Electrolux I found a wad of hair mixed in with balls of tinfoil and some legos along with a pair of doll leggings.  The kids did an awesome job cleaning their rooms yesterday, vacuuming, washing toilets, and this is the price I pay for trying to build independence.

I will tell you that I poured myself a tall glass of ice water, sat at my table to record it all on this blog, with a peanut butter chocolate bar, and smiled.  Sometimes the world tests us, even on Christmas Eve.  But here’s the thing: we are damn lucky to be here with a home to vacuum and children to share the magic of Santa and the birth of Jesus.  I will tell you that I found a camel Christmas sweater (Yay Conn College Camels) at Marshall’s last week, and it filled me little kid excitement for Christmas.

I will tell you that we had planned to ski this morning, but then I woke up with these terrible allergies which I refuse to believe is a cold.  Fate, Santa, Baby Jesus, Jesus Christ, God, Almighty Winter– none of them would give me a cold on Christmas.  From our magical holiday chaos to yours– Merry Christmas!