I don’t know who cranked up December, but holy hell, ya’ll. I’m probably going to bill my first 200 hour month – in DECEMBER, with, like, CHRISTMAS and holidays and stuff in there. On the plus side – woo! Job security! On the minus side – I’m a quadrillion weeks pregnant. WHERE WERE YOU PEOPLE A YEAR AGO?? Even two months ago, back when I was twiddling my thumbs and begging for work? It’s Tuesday at 3pm and I’ve already billed 23 hours this week. I need a nap.
My plan to work only 7:30-5:30 has completely tanked, though I’m still largely preserving Saturdays as days off, and only do an hour or two of work most nights. If I get sleepy, I go to sleep. I don’t want to give myself high blood pressure or heart palpitations or something. Only 34 weeks – baby’s got to stay in at least another week or two. Sunday afternoons = tv for the kids while mommy opens the laptop. I like this work, but Lord I am low on energy and this is not the time for everything to crank up. Note that I’m not getting new stuff – it’s just that suddenly a bunch of old stuff kind of “woke up,” as it were, and WTF it’s December by the way, when most lawyers and judges try to quietly and surreptitiously set everything for mid-January and then go off and have some spiked egg nog and, depending on the Gulf Coast weather, play some golf. There is no open discussion of having a little work slowdown at Christmastime here in the Bible Belt South . . . it just kind of happens. Usually. But I’ve got the opposite happening here now, and throw in even a few little events in the name of family Christmas cheer, and you’ve got one tired pregnant lady. Depositions and motions and hearings, oh my!
Despite the work insanity, I did manage to do my annual clean out of the boys’ room on Saturday. While their father otherwise distracted them, I managed to throw out 3 bags of old toys and trash that had accumulated in their toy-box, sort through what was left and put it all in its appropriate containers, and all in all just prepare for the onslaught of new stuff that’s about to hit our household on December 25th. The tossed toys consisted largely of old tattered (cheaply made) Mardi Gras throws, former art projects that needed to go, Happy Meal figurines, squashed or deflated balls, racecar tracks or puzzles missing one essential component that I finally gave up on finding, and the like. It’s amazing how many of those can pile up over the course of a year. I do this every year before Christmas, and it’s very satisfying, and I was pleased that this year even in my bloated state, I could muster the energy and will to perform this vital task. (After that was done, I also used Q-tips to try to pry all of the moldy black gunk from the crevices of my stinky washing machine’s rubber seal, in an attempt to prevent it from smelling up the whole entire house. It helped, I think, and also proved that I am a little bit perhaps sort of in that pre-labor phase of pregnancy known as Nesting?) (Although at the same time my husband also went through every drawer in our downstairs, and actually lined up the spatulas and whisks in my kitchen utensil drawer, so I guess he’s nesting, too.)
As if this wasn’t enough, I earned the badge of Super Mom when I baked eleventy million Christmas cookies on Sunday morning, plus several dozen cinnamon rolls. I had a three year old “helper” who mostly helped out by thieving the rolling pin and using it to scooch all of the flour off the counter and onto himself and the floor. (He then ran around in circles, being sure to distribute as much flour as possible over as many surfaces as he could reach. I was remarkably patient with this, I’ll have you know, as it was supposed to be fun family time.) Once we finally got around to the decorating part, it was legitimately very fun (as opposed to grit my teeth and pretend I’m having fun for the sake of the three year old who is kind of driving me crazy with the flour situation). The Professor was off giving an exam, so he missed on the fun (and also the cleanup, grumble grumble), though he definitely hasn’t missed out on the eating of the results. (He has been known as Cookie Monster at various times in his life.) Even without his assistance, I think I handled the Marathon Cookie Baking Extravaganza very well. You can tell whose are whose – Jack’s little gingerbread men all have mini-M&M buttons and eyes, which look super cute, if a little off center. Liam’s cookies each have a three inch slab of hard-as-a-rock icing and a dusting of sprinkles. Mine look like an adult decorated them, so there you go.
There is more Christmas cheer to come, along with more work. I’ve got to get back to it now. I just needed a little breather, and taking a few minutes to catch you all up on my sprint through December was just exactly the breather I needed! (Though I wouldn’t say no to a facial or prenatal massage. HINT HINT UNIVERSE.) (NOT THAT I HAVE TIME FOR ONE.)