Monthly archive for December 2015

Christmas Eve-Eve

To Mike, (allegedly) from Ellie

To Mike, (allegedly) from Ellie

Hello! Merry Christmas Eve-Eve to you. You all look quite festive this evening. Have you already been a-wassailing? Mike is out at the late show of the new Star Wars movie and I figured this was the perfect time to catch up on the various important intellectual documentaries* cluttering up our DVR. I should probably be finishing up the remaining wrapping I am responsible for, but I outsourced some of it to Ellie last week (they had a wrapping centre in their classroom, where the kids were enthusiastically wrapping up all of the toys and activities in the room; I am fairly certain by the time Christmas break arrived there was nothing left in the classroom to actually DO as it was all covered in metres and metres of tape and lumpy paper and placed lovingly under the tree) and as you can see from the photo above, she did a lovely job, and by “lovely job” I mean “well, it’s not THAT much worse than I would do, and besides I hate wrapping gifts anyway, because nine times out of ten I cut a piece of paper that is about an inch too short to actually go all the way around the present, and it’s impossible to get the edges right, and I would much rather spend this time eating Christmas cookies!” However, she put a label on them saying they were FROM her, so any credit I would have received for the gifts will now go to her. It is a small price to pay to not have to wrap the gifts myself.

Ellie is so excited about Christmas that she is practically vibrating. She asks me about once an hour to go over the agenda for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day — this is the first year she really understands about Santa and she is VERY INTERESTED in discussing that topic. She doesn’t seem at all concerned about the logistics of Santa’s visit, however, which sort of surprised me, because she is in a Tough Questions stage (she asked me a couple of weeks ago, “Mommy, before I was in your tummy, before you were my mom, where WAS I?” Well, I … uh. That’s a … hmmm. “I’m not sure, honey, but we are very glad you’re here now!”) and also a Not Accepting Your Answer the First Time stage. Zach, of course, is thrilled by the whole thing, but he is always thrilled by everything, because he is the toddler version of Alec Baldwin’s character from Friends.

Merry Christmas to you if you are celebrating, and happy Friday if not. Let’s meet back here in January, shall we? I have to tell you about the time Zach almost broke my nose with his giant head.

*episodes of Keeping Up With the Kardashians

Christmas carol

Seems legit.

Seems legit.

I had what I thought was some very sad news to share with you about Carol, the bunny that lives beside our house in the winter. I had already been preparing myself for this bad news, because when Ellie and I were at an exotic animal show at the library this summer, one of the presenters mentioned offhandedly that wild bunnies usually only live for a couple of years, so I reminded myself of this fact a few times in the fall, taking comfort in the fact that we got to see her for three winters and that was probably more than I could have reasonably expected anyway. One day last week as Luna and I came home from our walk, she was sniffing and pulling rather insistently in the direction of a snowdrift at the end of our neighbour’s driveway, and I discovered there was a pair of bunny hind legs sticking out from the snow. Without going into too much graphic detail, foul play was definitely suspected. By me. Although I didn’t get too close, for obvious reasons.

After I dropped Ellie off the next morning and had to flap my arms and shriek “LEAVE CAROL ALONE!” to some menacing crows perched hungrily on top of the snowbank, Mike called animal control and they removed the body. I was really sad about the whole situation. Out of habit, every time I was at the sink in the kitchen, I glanced out the window to look for Carol, and then yesterday, she was there! I gasped so loudly I scared Mike. I was very relieved and continue to think about it with joy. So instead of a sad story about Carol, I have a sad story about another dead bunny. Merry Christmas!