We are enjoying our traditional boxing day celebration, which involves not leaving the house, watching our newest DVD of the previous season of The Office (a regular Christmas present), enjoying a nice bottle of wine and eating treats from Christmas Day.
Speaking of Christmas Day, it was also lovely. We had the family over for the afternoon and for dinner, we made rum balls, we played Wii, we laughed a lot... it was grand. Other highlights of the week included a fantastic cheese fondu dinner with good friends, a huge Christmas Eve choir, and lots of peace and quiet.
This entirely positive review of this year's Christmas season comes despite having been accused by a fellow member of our church choir of a myriad of things about 5 minutes before the late service, including being rude, insensitive, shoving her and ruining two Christmases in a row. Yup, I did all that, simply by virtue of having asked her to move over to make room for a guest singer. Awesome.
I was walking down the stairs at the church the other day when I caught the heel of my high-heeled shoe in the hem of my pant leg.
The next half second felt like it lasted about 45 minutes.
Somehow, I landed on my feet, but on the landing about four stairs below where I had been heading. My whole body felt like it had been twisted, like none of my joints where in their right places.
And I ripped the hem of my pants.
I'm fine now, but it struck me how different the experience of an adult falling is from a child. Just the night before, I'd been babysitting three little ones, a baby and two toddlers. And the two toddlers got into hugging each other with a fair amount of verve and tumbled over backwards. Heads were bumped. Crying occurred. Then about 10 seconds later, it was over and forgotten as if nothing had happened and then were back to their active play.
Married 30-something living in Sherwood Park with the husband of my dreams, our beautiful daughter and two ridiculous cats. University administrator, PK, cross-stitcher, choral singer, baseball fanatic... Life is varied and wonderful.
WH: WonderHubby, the man of my dreams, my best friend and co-conspirator. A professional choral conductor. He got me hooked on golf.
Baby Bird: Our totally nifty baby girl.
Mama Cat: A jet-black, three year-old Bombay Siamese beastie who takes up almost all of my side of the bed, and demonstrates intense neediness frequently. Likes to have her ears scratched.
Baby Cat: Her daughter, a more traditional Siamese-coloured cat, now almost two years old. Purrs like a locomotive, sheds all over everything, takes up the rest of my side of the bed.
Maternal Unit: My mum, an Anglican priest here in Prairie City. Smart, funny and brave.
Eldest Brother: My biggest brother, an archaeologist, and an all-around nifty fellow. Taught me all about sports.
Middle Brother: Also my elder, but by not quite as much as EB. He works for our provincial government, doing neat things with disaster preparedness planning. He beat up the boys who were mean to me in elementary school.
Paternal Unit: My dad, who is a professional storyteller in another province far away.