Christmas Eve started unusually for us. The Historian had to leave for work at 9:30am. He works 2nd shift, so getting up and going straight to work is a big deal.
The Crafter, Wild Thing, Sweetie, and I all had colds. I had the whole sniffling, sneezing, coughing, sinus pressure and pain package. Being sick at Christmas never surprises me. It's a family tradition. I tried not to complain. Flashbacks of Christmas 2000 kept my spirits up. The Historian and I spent 24 hours throwing up at my parents' house.
The children and I spent the day watching junk on TV, playing on the computer, and attempting some crafts. I never realized how much stuff I pick up off the floor during the course of a day. I couldn't bend over without shooting pains behind my eyes. By mid-afternoon, there wasn't even a visible patch of floor in the living room. It was warm outside, so I sent the sniffly children outside for fresh air and attempted a quick clean up.
We were walking out the door to go to the Christmas Eve Service at our old church when the Historian got home, so we got to go as a family. The service was good. There were carols, skits, music and vocal solos, and scripture readings. It ended with communion and candle light. Afterwards we had cookies and cider in the fellowship hall. It was good to see our old friends.
Side Note: Wild Thing fell asleep. I spent most of the time wrestling Sweetie. About halfway through the service, I noticed white flakes on her shirt. Surely she couldn't have dandruff. Then there were more flakes. SHE WAS EATING A CANDLE!?! When we got up it looked like a miniature snow fall.
We went home and put the children to bed. The Historian gave me the best gift he could have given me: a value size box of generic Sudafed--the kind you have to ask for at a pharmacy. I took my cold medicine and slept in peace while he played Santa.