Rose Tells Christmasly

Quicktakes! Am trying to get back on the writing horse, and this seems just about my speed.

1. I just got back from the awesomest little toy/train-hobby shop, where I dug through Schleich animals (look at the teeny weeny seven-dollar falcon!) and drooled over playmobil scenes. Once Snert told me “Mom, you’re not very good at Playmobil. Dad is better.” I guess I wanted to arrange spears and knives, and fluff plastic plants, and he wanted to shoot stuff at stuff. Whatever, dude. 

So I got him some more Playmobils?

Snert's the very pious brown blur.

Christmas Pageant. Snert’s the very pious brown blur.

2. Speaking of Snert, who does actually like me, what’s your take on this? We were introduced to Angry Birds recently, and I went through a pretty addicted phase. (My advice to you in this situation: push through it and play ALL the time. Eventually it gets old, but I think you have to log a certain number of hours first.) Anyway, one time things got pretty heated and I said “This game hates me!”

“Mom,” Snert laughed. “The game doesn’t even know you’re a girl.”


3. Well shit, does Santa know?

4. A week or so ago I cut Snert’s hair (“I hate haircuts! This is the worst!”). I think a hair got stuck in my clothes somewhere around my hindquarter region, and it started poking me while I was wandering the never-ending toy aisles of Target. So I started walking weird to avoid the poking, which made my sciatica flare up, which made me limp more, which made me leave the store angry and without toys.

Have just realized that I’ve become a mean old man. I wonder how long until Cisco notices.

And now you’re dumber for having read that. Merry Christmas.

o, holy lego ship

o, holy lego ship

5. This is one of those chill-the-heck-out Christmases for me, and I really like it. I feel like the more I relax about stuff the more Advent… comes to me, in a way. It’s like when you’re trying to get a baby to sleep and they can smell your desperation, as opposed to those times when you more-or-less ignore them and hark! they konk out right away.

I got our Advent wreath out late, I didn’t do a Jesse tree, our calendar came late, and we did not sing “O Come, Immanuel” before dinner even once. I am not sending Christmas cards or putting lights up outside. On the flip-side, Snert and I have talked more about Christmas than years before, and I’m taking every opportunity to have a cocktail with Cisco, a friend, the Christmas tree… And the other day when Snert and I were looking at a church’s very large Nativity Scene he said, “Do you want to say a decade of the Rosary?” So we did. It’s one of my best Advent moments ever, I think, and I didn’t do anything to make it happen.

If you’re feeling like Advent blew by, and you didn’t do enough liturgical, crafty, memory-makingish things, I get it. But don’t beat yourself up over it. The shepherds probably didn’t bring much to the new Baby. They just showed up. I can do that.


6. Now that Yoda has spoken, I want to tell you about Something Awful: we are getting a dog. I don’t know when or what kind, and I don’t really want to talk about it any more. I’ll be happy to make the boys happy. No, I won’t think it’s cute. It might as well be a toad with like… dandruff in its mustache.


That is cute. (Cisco in first-or-so grade.)

7. The whining for “Yogurt! Juice! Snack! Parcheesi!” has commenced, right on the nose. It is that magic hour when children become insanely loud and ravenously hungry, and Moms chuckle lovingly and skip around the kitchen in a whirl of inspired dinner-making. Or shove left-overs in the oven and reach for the vodka and cranberry juice.

Ok, off to feed the loving family. God bless you all!

"Don't put me on the internet."

“Don’t put me on the internet.”



I have a kindergartener who came home from school on Friday.

I have a warm(ish) house.

I had coffee in the glow of the Christmas tree early this morning. Just me and Him.

I have a husband who loves me.

I have sisters.

I have dear dear friends. (I have social awkwardness, too, but that’s not such a big deal when there are real friends, is it?)

I have a little boy who, for a little while longer, is blissfully unaware of how sad the world can be. He’s just looking forward to his Christmas pageant like those other little saints should be.

Today there is music.

There will even be some joy, I bet.


My sister, who has her own blog (you really should stop by – so funny, and awesome photography), posted this poem. Go read it.

So many thoughts and prayers for everyone affected by the attack in Connecticut, and for all of you.