‘Tis the Season
In the run up to Christmas, this weekend was the annual Classy Mom’s Christmas Party. It’s a big event. And the kids are now old enough that all the attendees are mobile – and able to create as much chaos as possible.
This particular soiree comes with instructions. Saturday morning arrived and as the muppets munched on the nutritional delights of Eggo waffles (prior to the pending sugar surge sure to soon occupy the time of all those classy moms), I reviewed the evite – running through the checklist step-by-step.
The halls will be decked and so should you. Please bring your sugarplums and elves dressed in their Christmas best.
Done. Well, kinda. I’d stuffed Search and Destroy into red and green hooded sweatshirts respectively, featuring airplanes. And cargo pants are totally just like khaki dress slacks. The footwear fashion stylings were all of the toddler-specified decision-making process. And not a battle I was willing to fight.
So monster rain boots and shark slippers it was to bring the whole outfit together. It was the best we were going to get for this Christmas event.
Moms, please join us in your favorite little black dress.
I looked at the boys happily crashing trucks in the living room. I was gonna chance it. I took a deep breath and flew up the stairs to find an LBD appropriate for wrangling toddlers. Also, anything requiring stilettos would probably be a poor life choice.
It took me 10 minutes to throw myself together. When I returned to the living room, the big trucks lay askew and abandoned. “Search! Destroy! We do not dismantle the Christmas tree! Drop that ornament. Get down off the entertainment center and leave the lights right where they are!”
Please bring one wrapped NEW book for each child you would like to have participate in the white elephant book exchange.
Crap. I still had to wrap the books. (At least I’d remembered to get them in advance, unlike two of the mamas who ran into each other at Barnes and Noble at 9:45.)
Using a tried and true method of motherhood diversion, I attempted to distract the amateur arborists with a Mickey Mouse cartoon. Unfortunately this was only acceptable should the viewing be accompanied by pancakes. (What? The waffles weren’t good enough?)
I discovered some frozen pancakes in the freezer. My attempts to separate them from their freezer-burned clutches to one another proved more difficult than initially anticipated. The battle was finally decided in my favor when I took to the frigid Frisbees with a corkscrew. FYI – toasting Krusteaz frozen pancakes on Level 2 will, in fact, cause said cakes to go kerplooey. (Muppets were absolutely delighted with these developments.)
Please bring 3-dozen HOMEMADE cookies to exchange with everyone. Santa will be jolly when you return to the workshop!
Check! I had proudly made reindeer cookies – from scratch – after the muppets went to bed the night before. I did not set the kitchen on fire or blow anything up (Let’s just keep that pancake situation between us, ok?) I was extremely proud of these antlered delectables. (Everyone admire them as they lay on the tray. They don’t so much look like that if you actually move them.)
“Let’s go to the party,” demanded Destroy. We piled our holiday spirit into the MomMobile and set off to get ourselves lost in South San Jose.
An hour later, the last mama arrived. “I didn’t bring cookies,” she announced, sunglasses still securely set on her face. “But I have champagne.” Well then. We clearly had a cookie exchange winner.
Break that bubbly open and let’s watch the babes argue over books. (We aim to instill a love of reading early in life. Also, the champagne mama was totally hung over and was really thankful for the quiet time.)
Book exchange – totally awesome. We came home with a Charlie Brown Christmas. It also took long enough that we ran out of time to build the gingerbread house. (There was no way I was overstaying naptime after that much sugar.)
With assistance from the muppets, the gingerbread house was assembled yesterday afternoon. (I frosting-glued candy to the fragile structure while the boys attempted to eat it all.)
Unfortunately the damned dog ate house of candy – tempted like Hansel and Gretel – not 15 minutes later. Also all the cookie exchange treats packages so nicely to be shared with friends and family. So yeah – nobody gets any cookies.
Which is really a bummer, because we couldn’t bribe small people with sweets after the sheer terror of a strange fat man in a red velour suit.
IT’S THE MOST WONDERFUL TIME OF YEAR!