Nicole feels

The house is quiet, save the occasion light saber sounds that P@rker makes as he gallops through the house with his new Ninja sword. We had school the past two days since we took that week off for CA, so it is nice to be restarting our Christmas break time, which will go through Monday.

I decided to have a lazy morning and went back to bed after grabbing Rob some juice and a quick breakfast around 7:30. And I didn't get up till 10:30!

Didn't realize I was quite that tired.

And now I am slowly sipping coffee, wishing I hadn't polished off the last of that homemade walnut cake yesterday, and working up the wherewithal to shower and really start my day.

I don't have much that has to be done. A quick trip to the wholesale club and grocery store to finish up the shopping Rob and I started on Monday night. Some lesson planning so it doesn't bite me in the butt next week, and so I don't have to work on it this weekend while company is here. And I think I want to work on our bedroom. When we moved into the house in VA, the first room we tackled was our room. Here it has been the complete opposite.

Oh, and the boys room. Still two opened, half-filled boxes awaiting me in there.

Because I know that you all will envy me beyond reason, I will tell you that tomorrow will be cleaning day. I wish I didn't abhor cleaning as much as I do. Once I get started, I am alright, but can't they make self-cleaning homes, like on the Jetson's? I mean, really, if one can have a Sirrius unit that will go from the home to the car and back, why can't I just push a button and have a clean house?

So, Christmas was nice. Pretty laid back, but nice. Except for the gift fiasco at his parents. I don't know why I thought it might be different this year. It doesn't help that gift-giving-and-receiving is a primary love language of mine. I had to really check my demeanor and try my best to look happy (isn't it funny how people choose to see what they want to see, because I know I don't hide my feelings very well) when in reality I felt slighted and offended.

Ah well, they just don't know us. Or our kids. And not to sound better-than-thou, but it is not for lack of trying on our part.

You do the math.

Otherwise the day was jolly. The kids were thrilled with the Santa spoils, my honey got me that lovely necklace and a cool sterling, stone, and crystal bracelet, and we had a nice dinner at my parental abode. Mom-Mom seems to be feeling better; she was able to eat and was back to joking around. That was a great Christmas gift.

I was harrassed mercilessly about the peppermint cheesecake (it is different to be sure, but I like it, so pfffttt) and walnut cake I made. Mom-Mom always made the walnut cake. Apparently, she was belly-aching to her cousin and his wife that she wouldn't have one this year, yada, yada, yada. I've been baking one via her recipe for about 6 years now, and had every intention of bringing it to the folks' before I heard of her lament.

Madre was the first to cut into it. "Where are the walnuts?" grand-madre asked.

"They are in there. I used the small, baking kind."

"You can't see them. That's not the kind you are supposed to use. They should be bigger..." And on and on she went, while we all reminded her that she was complaining that she wouldn't even have a walnut cake, and there it is and she's gonna complain about the size of the walnuts.

(This was all in good fun, mind you.)

We went around and around for about 10 minutes, when she finally said, "Hey, cut me a piece about yay-big to take home with me."

Brat.

My ever-analytical husband assessed the situation by declaring (later to me, in private) that my grandmother is the original unpleasable parent, hence it is no wonder my mother would call us at all hours of the day and night just to make sure that she is doing/buying exactly what everyone needs/wants.

Nothing like a little pop psychology for a Yuletide eve.

Alright, then. My errands, nor my room, will get done, or clean itself, if I continue to sit in front of this screen, eh?