I was determined not to do a miserable post. I'm trying so hard to enjoy Christmas week. Then the days started slipping by, and Christmas day was fast approaching, and I knew I hadn't blogged, and wanted to blog something happy.
Yesterday proved my point of how you just can't let your fucking guard down at any time.
D was due home from work on Christmas eve at about 2 pm. At 1:57, he's at the door, and as I open it for him, I instantly (and gut wrenchingly) see that something is wrong. His dad, my father in law, the first real father figure in my life, has been taken in to hospital, with suspected angina or a heart attack. D doesn't even get to come in the house to see the boys; I turn him around and tell him to go to the hospital to be with his dad.
I had my mom here to help me and spend time with the boys. Noah started acting up throughout the afternoon; he knew something was wrong. D made it back about 2 hours later, and was home for 30 seconds when his sister in law called and said she was very worried about how his mum was coping.
D pretty much didn't see his boys yesterday. He missed their bedtime routine, and missed taking Noah round the houses to see their crazy Christmas lights.
I'm really not lying when I say crazy.
However, I digress.
D didn't get back until 8:30pm last night, and because he'd been working since 5 am, he was so exhausted, he pretty much ate a bit of food and then fell asleep right on the sofa.
I felt so bad for him, because I didn't know what to do; there was nothing I could do expect be there. I'm really crap at "being there" for people. I never really know what to say, and when I do offer up advice/info, it's quite often ignored.
Today, has been lovely. Pa in law is stable, but they might operate on Monday. We're not sure yet.
Noah has been FANTASTIC. He's opened half of his presents, wasn't interested in any more because of one particular gift. He also ignored the santa stocking loaded with toys at the bottom of his bed, favouring instead, the Christmas lights we left on in his room so he could see what he was doing.
So we had to kind of compensate by bringing him to our room to pick out his stocking fillers.
Which he seemed to enjoy.
Isaac has chowed his way through all manner of crap this morning and we don't care; it keeps him happy, and especially as he seems a bit under the weather at the mo (teething? ear infection? puberty?) But he's enjoying the fruits of Noah's stash; they're being really lovely and actually playing together. It's fucking awesome.
D's just handed me my Christmas card; inside is $80 US, ready to put towards Blogher10 next year. That and a new camera lens, some jewellery and a photo mag subscription among other things, and I'm fucking chuffed with my haul.
D is thrilled to bits with his speciality cognac glasses, bottle of Remy Martin XO, fancy chocs and Mr Tickle t-shirt (Noah's favourite character, and very happy as he had just opened his Mr Tickle pyjamas).
Thankfully, we ALL seem to be having a good day so far.