So I haven't written anything for a while because life's been busy... But here's a run down of Christmas eve/morning for your amusement (or sympathy, depending on which end of the child-rearing spectrum you fall):
- 4:30pm kids begin begging to go to bed so Santa can visit.
- 5:00pm kids get whiny that they are bored and it makes them think about Santa too much.
- 7:30pm kids hurry and get ready for bed with NO FUSS!!! I tell them not to get out of bed to wake us until their alarm clock says "7" something. I tell Isaiah, "It has to be a 7 or greater to get out of bed."
- 8:00pm They're out like a light. Paulo and I busy ourselves with last minute wrapping, baking, etc.
- 12:30am We're still up and the kids come bounding up the stairs, wild eyed and squealing with excitement, "Did Santa come yet?!?" We intercept on the stairs and send them back to bed. There is much crying and gnashing of teeth. I realize where the confusion lies- the number was greater than 7. I remind Isaiah of how the clock works and that it goes to 1 and then counts up again.
- 1:30am The kids get up again. I don't get myself to bed until 2:15 with all the junk I'm trying to pull off last minute.
- 3:15am The kids get up again.
- 3:45am The kids get up again.
- 4:30am The kids get up again.
- 5:30am The kids get up again. This time I stomp downstairs and say (in my quiet scary voice) through gritted teeth, "Do NOT get out of this bed AGAIN until the light on your alarm clock comes on... DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?!?!?" They nod yes and I cheat and set the alarm for 7:30, desperately hoping to squeeze in another 30 minutes of much needed sleep.
- 7:00am The kids get up again. "Mom- it says 7. I see presents under the tree! Santa came!" *sigh*
