Cursemas Greetings

My Christmas challenge to myself was to come up with a list of Christmas words on the side of the fridge.  Kids helped (peppermint, heart, giving, gift, candy cane, wish, luv, present, Santa).

My contributions were beer, book, Quaalude, toil and jooze (my favourite).  Jews and booze combo.  Who doesn't love Jews and booze?  

I had a few letters left over, but pshaw, I did my best:

cause who doesn't love a Christmas quaalude?

I'm listening to Wham's Last Christmas on the telly (Stingray Music Videos) and it's accompanied by the original video - that Andrew Ridgeley hasn't aged a bit! - while waiting for my mug of Christmas Cheer to do its business (ex-lax, anyone?) while writing my Christmas letter... ooh I feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

How I actually feel inside is empty and slightly nauseated, but no need to dwell on that...

This season, I received a sum total of 7 Christmas cards (one addressed to Nathaniel from the overpriced, entitled child's camp he attends, one a very heartfelt thank you from the Vice Principal at the kids' school - humblebrag- and one from our Free Press Carrier who delivers our paper very sporadically).  I could be depressed by the dearth of Xmas cards in my mailbox, but I am telling myself that all of my friends are ecologically and environmentally minded, and that they are sending their Christmas greetings to me telepathically.

Eeeeeyuw.  Mariah Carey's All I want for Christmas is on.

A scream from the office!  Nath is grooving to the tunes while playing Agario (the new Mindcraft):  "this is my favourite Christmas song, Mumma!".  The child has obviously sustained permanent brain damage from yesterday's spill.  I wrote an email about this incident to my sister-in-law earlier today, and I know she won't mind that I cut and pasted this text from it (thanks, Jeannette):

Let me tell you about our day yesterday.  Nathaniel wiped out on our solstice stroll (we were going to whip rocks and sesame seeds in the Thames to rid ourselves of negativity - sounds ridic but I'm not kidding).  While walking one of the dogs, Nath rather stupidly had stuffed both of his hands in his coat pockets and attempted to descend a slippery hill while being pulled by Dill.  He slipped on the path, and I watched him faceplant onto concrete, shuddering when I heard the thud as his mug hit cement.  Poor guy.  He is bruised, goose-eggy and bloody on his forehead, nose, upper lip and chin.  He is not concussed, thank god.  I'll send you the pics.

We turned around and came home, sesame seeds and rocks forgotten.  Shortly after this unfortunate incident, I began to feel quite ill. I had had nagging abdominal pain for most of the day, but it became much worse and I went to bed.  AFter several bouts of projectile vomiting, fever and the most painful abdominal pain I've ever experienced, short of childbirth, Richard called Telehealth and they recommended a visit to the ER.  I was there for five hours, and endured some disgusting procedures and tests.  I have to have a colonoscopy in the New Year.  

So today, I have been parked on the couch, and drinking giant glasses of Christmas Cheer in the form of liquid laxative.  A jubilant day for me.  I am feeling a bit better, and Nath says that his face, while hideous-- think bar fight-- doesn't hurt as much. 

Ahhh... the joys of Christmas present.  Here are some pics of said events:

Richard and Gwen look a bit peeved here, I think

I made Gwen pose like this to show off her giantess feet (the ten-year-old wears a woman's 8.5)

Stop it, Mumma!  Don't put that on Facebook!

a bag of frozen brussels sprouts wrapped in a tea towel to reduce swelling

He looks better today:

It warms the heart, friends.

Yesterday, the four of us participated in our annual Christmas Assembly Line, making shitloads of perogies so at least we aren't starving.  The kids wrestled on the filthy kitchen floor, and one of them cried and Richard swore at me for being bossy.  whatev, sous-chef.  
This, my friends, is the true meaning of Christmas.

The wrastlin' around.  Gwen won.  

Here's a link to my perogy recipe, with accompanying pics, should you and yours want to make your own Perogy dough and Heidigger doo:

PerogyTime

I will end this post by wishing anyone who bothers to read this blog the Merriest of Christmases.  I recommend a stiff drink, a good book, turkey (dark meat, please), skating on a pond or local outdoor ice rink, A Wonderful Life and friend and family time, in that order.

Optional Musical Accompaniment:  Wham's Last Christmas, natch.