Instead of the most wonderful time of year it should be called the most stressful time of year. I think my husband is in uber-stress mode being that I haven't supplied him with any present ideas and have basically told him I don't want him buying me anything. Period. My focus is on watching my son enjoy his Christmas. I don't particularly need anything at the moment so it's not a priority. Sure, I'd love to lose some weight or take a trip somewhere exotic or have another baby. But at this point it looks like those are not viable options. So instead, I shall stick to my holiday baking, start the tedium of wrapping what I've bought for others and collapse by the end of the evening into an exhausted heap of dishevelment.
Today was a day of running errands - groceries, Canadian Tire and the local feed mill (as I love to say, "to stock up on supplies"). We feed the birds around here and they go through the seed pretty quickly now that the ground has not shown any hints of green in over a month. Could that be contributing to my cynical synopsis of life? Hmmm...I spent the bulk of the afternoon cleaning my home - with my son's help of course. What 7 year old boy likes to tout rubber gloves and a toilet scrubber? Well, mine does.
So as we all hunker down and prepare for the winter storm that's heading our way, I shall go put my son to bed and maybe catch an hour to veg in front of 48 Hours Mysteries. Goodnight.
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