Since we're leaving tomorrow for a early Fun Family Christmas Weekend with T's family in Virginia, I thought I ought to at least check in before we head out. You know - give you the Reader's Digest version of How Crazy My Life Is Today.
Case in point: It is becoming distressingly evident that I react to personal crises in a very particular way: Baked Goods. The Moms from my Moms Club group brought dinner in for 4 days, and it was all I could do to sit down and enjoy a lovely meal (okay, so it's possible I was curled up in the recliner in front of the television and howling for another percocet while enjoying my dinner) and not simply shove my face directly into the containers of Desserts!
Chocolate cake. White cake with chocolate AND vanilla icing. Christmas cookies. And the evil, evil chocolate cookies with peppermint hershey kisses in the center.
But was this enough, you ask, to satiate my craving for comfort sweets? Oh, No, my friends.
So it was that I found myself in the kitchen this morning.... up to my armpits in 3 different varieties of fudge (chocolate, butterscotch rum, and peppermint with little bits of soft candy cane), spiced sugar cookies, and the last batch of fresh pumpkin pies from this year's pumpkin baking frenzy.
I'll be lucky to fit in my seat when I fly to Utah in a few weeks.
Of course, I thought our days of dining in on meals not made from creatively altered macaroni and cheese were over... And then came The Box. A large, white, styrofoam box from Omaha Steaks arrived on our porch with enough food to keep us dining like royalty for days. Turns out T's friend and his wife were worried about us, what with me being poked and prodded and surgically repaired, and wanted to make sure we didn't revert to a diet of Ramen Noodles.
Soon thereafter I also received a lovely bouqet of flowers from T's office. I think it might have made them feel a little guilty, him having to jump a plane from Singapore and arriving home 24 hours too late to hold my hand while the hospital people cut me open to remove body parts. But they did hustle him home, to be fair, and let him work from home this entire week so that he could cater to my every whim.
Mostly he listened to me whine and brought me my pain meds. Well, "mostly" meaning "in between doing work-work, school-work, and caring entirely for the children and animals".
Have I mentioned I married a fairly saintly fellow? Because honestly... Why he ever thought he was getting the good end of this deal when we got married is beyond me. (He is currently assuring me it was something to do with the sex. Also possibly the Christmas cookies, but mosty it was the pumpkin pies.)
At the end of the day, I am adding up my good fortune. In the past 10 days I have had my appendix nearly rupture and be surgically removed and had needles stuck into my back to alleviate a six-month battle with a herniated spinal disc and nerve damage to my right leg... But I didn't have to focus on anything but the healing process. The boys were constantly cared for, first by an incredibly awesome neighbor and then by their incredibly awesome Dad. T's Mom made sure I didn't have to be alone in the hospital through that terrifying ordeal, and even held it together when I was writhing in agony, puking up stomach acid and CT scan contrast. T kept the house from falling down around our ears and kept me comfortably medicated and swaddled in blankets.
And so it is that, today, I got to spend the day cutting out cookies with the boys, stirring cauldrons of candy until the "soft ball" stage, and rolling out pie crusts to fill with fresh-baked goodness. The Christmas shopping is done, the house is decorated, the goodies are baked, and there's nothing left to do but settle in to enjoy all the festivities and wait for that magic day to come. I get to end this day exhausted, mostly pain-free, and coated in sweat and flour.
My friends, I lead a charmed life. Mostly.
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