(So I made these tiny stockings with all our initials. That's a lot of initials. My goal was to hang them above the fireplace but HELLO, Fire Hazard sayeth Josh so ... improvision.)
Ok. The title of this post is a bit of a... well, stretch. The Farmhouse, in all of it's 125 year old glory, has not one hallway. Not. One. There used to be at least one, but, somewhere along the way, someone knocked it out and made spaces bigger.
Of course, we have no closets in this house either. Apparently, when Farmhouse was built, closests were just not the fashion. An armoire must've seemed much more glamorous. So we have like, a few of those here. And only one closet that was added, and poorly, at some point.
Did I tell you that we have six people living here now? With no closet space? Ok, just checking.
Fortunately for us, and our clothing, creativity is my specialty.
(Christmas plates on the wall.... Christmas plates which usually don't see the light of day)
So. One. Two. Three. Four trees in the house this year. No, that wasn't planned - it just kinda happened that way... the more fun Landon was having with the whole tree concept, the more carried away I got... and what can I say, it was great for the vocabulary... in the past month, we've learned the words
and the ever so popular
which means, "Sissy, please, if you could, stop touching the Christmas trees. It sucks when you do that." Lauren has a slight obsession with doing things she's not supposed too... hmmm... guess that can only get worse.
(more Christmas dishes on the mantel in the dining room and two toddlers I don't even know, I swear)
Presents are wrapped. Tree is completely dead, but still pretty. Grocery list is complete.
First official family gathering is tonight. I am the official cook of Sweet Potato Souffle in our family. It's a requirement and no one even asks what I am bringing anymore. They tell me to HUSH MY MOUTH when I suggest bringing something else. Sigh. Marshmallows and pecan topping it is.
I am also cooking a HAM! on Christmas day. We have no plans for guests, so I am not sure exactly what I am thinking, except for that maybe my Martha is showing.
(Jordin's Graham Cracker Gingerbread House.... a 5th Grade Tradition... placed high enough so that Lauren cannot eat it because, HELLO, why not)
Landon has decided that Santa Claus should be called Ho Ho... and really, anything related to Christmas apparently belongs to Ho Ho. Those are Ho Ho's lights on our house and that is DEFINITELY Ho Ho's Christmas tree and Ho Ho's presents. Any and all Christmas items hereby belong to and can be traced back to Ho Ho.
This time last year, we had Landon strutting around town in his "Santa Landon" outfit. We started practicing in October of last year to get him to pat his belly and say HO HO HO... and all we got was a blank stare... this year however, THIS YEAR! when the outfit is way, way too small... we HO HO HO everywhere we go ... ESPECIALLY when an item related to Ho Ho himself appears.
(new red tractor Christmas Tree lights ... thanks, Mimi)
So far, Landon has only unwrapped one gift. And SCORE! it was one of mine from the girls. I swear, that wasn't planned. I did not, and would never have pointed him in the general direction of taking the tissue out of tha tbag. I was however, able to talk the girls into letting me go ahead and open the yummy bag of flavored coffee that was inside. Because you know, HECK, why not enjoy it.
The rest of the presents I carefully wrapped are now a part of the tagless, bowless gift graveyard that the babies built with their own two hands under the tree. It's true. They are on a mission from the Grinch. REMOVE ALL BOWS AND IDENTIFICATION IMMEDIATELY. I occasionally try and sneak a bow back on, and Lauren gives me the evil eye. Like, SHE'LL BE BACK.
So, I guess we're all ready.
Let the weekend begin. Stockings, candy and presents. And sweet potatoes. Can't forget those. Unless of course I get crazy and take ARTICHOKES.