First off, I'm suffering from Post-Christmas Stress Disorder. This is probably not the official name for this condition, but it should be. Come on, American Medical Association or whatever organization that make up names for ailments, traumas and conditions. Let's get on the ball. I'll tell you my symptoms a little later. I think it's more important to tell you that the kids had an awesome Christmas. Awesome means that they received all they've ever wanted from "Santa" and so much more.
We flew down to celebrate Christmas with M's father this year and I think the boys really enjoyed it. It was the first time they got to celebrate with Grandpa, and they made out like a bandit (like always). Too many presents to list, but let's say they have enough cars and action figures to last them through a toy factory worker strike. And we needed to borrow a suitcase to fly the booty back home.
On Christmas Eve, we had a huge meal. M's friend Chris and his wife came over for dinner to liven things up. I was glad that they were able to make it because we hadn't expect them to. Their little doggie was just released from the animal hospital and they weren't sure if they were able to come. The more the merrier! The kids got to open 1 present each that night.
Michael was so excited for Santa Claus to come visit. We told him he had to be asleep for Santa to come. If he didn't go to bed when he was suppose to and didn't fall asleep, Santa would skip the house and move on to the next. That caused a little incident between the 2 Fisher brothers. When Matthew refused to be quiet and go to bed that night, Michael punched him in the face. I asked him why he did it, and he tearfully explained that he was scared Santa would skip the house if Matty didn't stop talking and go to sleep. So he thought the solution was to punch his brother in the face. I guess I didn't do such a good job of explaining to him that violence is not the answer.
Christmas morning came early. I think they were up at 6 in the morning. Good thing they went to Grandpa's room first. I got to sleep for an extra 2 minutes. They ran downstairs and ran back up to inform me that Santa did pay them a visit and ate ALL the cookies they left out for him. Matthew then realized that we forgot to leave out the milk and was upset about it for a second, but the presents demanded his attention.
We flew home the morning after Christmas to another round of presents at my mom's house. "Santa" brought them more toys. This time, more of the hi-tech variety. They got remote controlled toys, video games for their Wii, and a little game called Rock Hero. However, Michael got most excited about this thing call "Big Top Cupcake." He screamed like a girl and held it up in the air like he had won the lotto. Big thanks to Yee-Yee for that gift. Matthew was very excited about the remote controlled car carrier. When he saw it, he exclaimed, "Oh, this is what I always wanted! How did you know that this was what I wanted!" It was so, so, so cute. I wish I could capture his expression in a little bottle.
If you've read this far, you're either really bored with nothing else to do or this post is really riveting. I don't care either way. I'm just glad you're still here so I can explain to you what Post-Christmas Stress Disorder is. It's when all the presents are open and the room looks like a hurricane came through. Then you realize that you have to clean it all up. On top of that, you realized that Christmas is over and there will be no more Christmas music until next November. Then you think back to all the sugary goodness that you've consumed and notice that your jeans are not fitting quite the way they use to. And to top it all off, you realized you missed the whole "A Christmas Story" marathon on Christmas Day. Then you don't feel quite so cheery. That, my friend, is Post-Christmas Stress Disorder and I am taking credit for identifying it.
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