It is hardly worth recounting my day but because I can barely remember all that was packed in, I will do so, just for kicks. T is out of town, so when the boys awoke at 5:30am, it was off to the races solo despite my implorations to leave me alone until 6:15. Jack is good about it, Oliver less so. He has a light that's a moon at night and a sun after the time the parent sets as the "OK, now you can bother me" time. Around 5:55am, I heard him start yelling, "sun light, turn on, turn on NOW." Sigh. Then there was the requisite hullabaloo of the morning: breakfast, making beds, brushing teeth, pleas to stop dawdling, carpool, do you have your homework?, get your coats on, and so forth. I dropped Ol off early and flew to Pilates; I've missed quite a few classes this session and was desperate to attend. Then I sold some jams, raced home, took a shower, worked in J's library, sped to the market to get a few things + the Christmas package (tree/wreath/garland), had some help jamming it all in my car, flew home with 15 minutes to spare before pick-up, wrestled the tree out of my car, sawed off the bottom for a fresh cut, dragged it from the garage through the yard and up several sets of stairs to the front porch.

Sweating and this whole time in tights, patent flats, a skirt and new sweater, I sucked down a random assortment of lunch items, raced to Ol's school, picked him up, sped back home, found the tree stand, got the (8') tree in said stand, watered it, untied it, got Ol back in the car, raced to J's school, dropped his pal off at piano, flew back home with my boys to await a playdate and start in on the tree's lights.

I'm still in the skirt and tights.

The kids are going ape over the tree, one glass ball breaks, an ornament shaped like a pug is dropped and loses a leg, fir needles are everywhere, someone needs apple cider five minutes ago and my head is pounding. A client called on one phone, T on the other (which I hand to Jack and I think he hangs up on T), the perler bead angry bird loses one bead and MUST.BE.REPAIRED.NOW, and it's 4:15p, and I'm like, WTF peeps, it was just 5:30am.

I remove the tights.

For the first time in my children's lives (seriously), I order a pizza for them for dinner; they and their darling little friend seemed thrilled. I beseech them to eat veggies and fruits concurrently, and my friend and I start in on just a small glass of wine roundabout 5:15p. The garlands look like tumbleweeds that were sneezed onto the Christmas tree at random, and jesus h do we have a number of construction ornaments.

I switch the skirt for some exercise pants and put my hair up. The bags under the boys' eyes start to look positively sink-hole-like, and I declare that bathtime is nigh and unfortunately we must bid our friends adieu. "Wait, wait, just watch my Christmas tree song and performance; you can't go outside without your coat; hold on; lower the volume; great to see you; kiss kiss."

Quickest bath in the world, half a story and a literal toss into their beds. T calls again -I forgot to call him back earlier- and I tell him that I love him but am unable to speak. Seriously. We'll talk tomorrow. I make a fab pomegranate-cranberry relish, saute some chard, cook a steak and sit. Carols are playing in the background and much as I want to stay up and read, I'm cashed and calling it a day.