Once again, the excitement of knowing that I'm about to have 11 days off work in a row has gotten me out of bed at an ungodly hour. I woke up at 3:30 and felt like if I didn't jump right up, I would go crazy, so here I am now.
I came this close to making another batch of thumbprint cookies this morning. Today we're having a holiday potluck at the office, and it seemed like a good idea to make an extra batch of cookies to take, along with the huge plate of assorted candies and cookies I've already put together. Then, as I started unwrapping the Hershey Kisses, I realized how stupid this was, and abandoned the idea. I will make another batch of cookies, but not until later this weekend, and I will be giving them to various friends and neighbors, instead of the folks at the office. There will no doubt be countless plates of holiday goodies offered at the potluck, anyway. I sometimes need to curb my urges to be motherly to my coworkers, and realize that if I don't bring tons of goodies, there will still be goodies, and no one will starve.
I want to do the unthinkable tomorrow. I'm on the fence about it, and could easily be talked out of it. But as of this moment, I'm planning to do it.
I think I'm going to the mall tomorrow.
EEEEEEK!
I wouldn't go if it wasn't for Santa Claus, and the fact that Santa Claus hangs out at the mall. B has never seen Santa Claus, much less sat on his lap while some 17 year old elf/photographer snaps her picture. It's a holiday tradition whose time has come in this family, and though P has stated that he would rather SAW HIS LEG OFF than go to the mall with us on Saturday, we are going. I think.
I am happy to say that the most pressing decision I have to make between now and Christmas is what B will wear for her first meeting with St. Nick. This child has a very extensive wardrobe. Between the hand-me-downs from her older sister, and the fact that she's my only child -- and a daughter, no less! -- her closet is chock full of every type of clothing fare imaginable, in sizes ranging from her current size up to the next expected size. With tubs of clothing in larger sizes just waiting to be rotated in when the outgrowns are rotated out.
It's a tough decision, and one that must be made carefully. It's not everyday a girl gets her first picture with Santa Claus, you know.
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