Christmas Break- Day 1

It's the time of year when people talk about the ways the Holidays delight their senses.  Wafting holly candles, pine garland, cinnamon.... twinkling lights, tumbling snowflakes, decorative wreaths... festive carols and traditional hymns...

Those people don't have kids.

Basically, the familiar sensory experience in OUR home is, well, to put it simply, Stimulating.

No one else ever mentions the sound of ornaments crashing together when a ball goes flying through the living room, but it regularly happens here.  The Monkey in the Middle is just not tall enough to screen drop kicks from the 3 year old.  He doesn't mean to be destructive... he just has awesome aim. Even from 2 rooms away, I am quite adept at knowing when it's just brass ornaments, or when I have to jump up and grab the vacuum cleaner.

There are traditional Holiday tastes and smells, but here there is also the constant "stick" that is gnawed on candy canes, still in wrappers. Or globs of glitter glue that won't fully dry.  Or the rejected fancy candy with the gooey centers that taste like "yuck" ("Well, then stay out of your father's Ghirardelli!").   I want to scream when asked for the 15th time, "Mom, where's MY candy?"  It's only 9 am.  I should spare myself the agony and just eat the stuff myself.  But how then should I handle the situation when I hear "Why is the baby carrying around a bottle of ketchup?" 

Our one-horse open sleigh is real enough.  The circle loop that links the sitting room-living room-dining room-computer room is a first class obstacle course for the new Radio Flyer wagon.  I've been told not to overreact:  Speeding is of little concern since the thing actually has seatbelts.  Doesn't candy count as an accelerant?

I don't hear other households lament that, now that it's Christmas break, they are the loudest family on the planet. Well, maybe other families do have such complaints, but I certainly wouldn't be able to hear about them.  The din here can be deafening.

Am I the only person who drinks a beer to STOP my head from spinning?

My poor husband. 
The man is a professional who runs a building with nearly 400 children in it, aged 7 and under.  SEVEN AND UNDER.  It's a RESPITE compared to here.  I'd ask him what his thoughts are about this apparent juxtaposition of his life's work, but I think he went to have a beer.