I don't know what kind of fantasy land I was living in the past few days, but I've returned to the real world with a spectacularly rough, nasty landing that rattled my teeth and snapped me back to my senses.
A short time after my post this morning, I had decided to astound my family on Christmas Day with the most delectable beef tenderloin they have ever tasted. I was even contemplating making Yorkshire pudding with it. I spent hours sipping peppermint tea and happily scrolling through recipes on marthastewart.com, lost in reverie, imagining the squeals and gasps of delight when the main course was set on the heavily laden Christmas table.
But then, my children came home from school and my dreamy bubble burst. Redheaded Snippet began peppering me with demands involving her all-consuming social life.
"So-and-so is having jailbreak tomorrow night, can I go? He needs an answer."
"I need to go get Christmas presents for all my friends. Tonight."
"BFF needs me to come over tonight to help her make a card for her sort-of-boyfriend."
"Youth group is going Christmas caroling tonight and I haven't been there in like a month."
How on earth did she expect to go shopping, Christmas caroling, and over to BFF's house all in one evening? The girl is almost as delusional as her mother!
Then, horror of horrors, I took the kids shopping. Redheaded Snippet had to get all her friends gifts tonight because tomorrow is the last day of school before Christmas break. And since she hadn't gotten anything for The Viking yet we decided to get that done as well. And since my mom is in Chicago visiting with Dharma and Daria and The Viking was at the fire station tonight, I had no choice but to take Man-Cub with us.
I have never wanted to hogtie my son more than I wanted to tonight. You know that mother you hear at the store repeatedly hissing at her child to stop touching that, get over here, just knock it off? You know the one? The one you can't wait to get away from, the one you roll your eyes at as soon as you're out of her line of vision? I was that mother tonight. I was so embarrassed. You would think my son had never been allowed out in public before, the way he was behaving. He was grabbing everything, pestering his sister, jumping into the cart, wandering off, trying to climb shelves...and when he wasn't doing any of those things, he was calling my name about 75 times a minute, "Mommommommommommommommommom"!
Somehow, we got the shopping done and I managed not to attack anyone. But now it's 11:00, The Viking still isn't home, Redheaded Snippet is still at BFF's house (BFF's parents are bringing her home), I'm exhausted and still have the entire downstairs to tidy for a new friend who is coming to visit tomorrow morning, I have yet to buy a single item for Christmas dinner and Man-Cub, who was supposed to be asleep hours ago, is still calling to me from the stairs. My head is pounding so bad I gave in and let him bring his blanket down to the couch.
So, in this glaring light of reality I have realized my folly in thinking I was going to be able to create an all-new, fancy and special menu for Christmas Day. Who am I kidding? I'm just going to suck it up and make a turkey and the rest of Thanksgiving Dinner Redux. Now I just have to hope I can find a fresh turkey somewhere tomorrow afternoon. With my kids in tow. Again.
Where's the eggnog and brandy...?