our weekend

I was feeling a little discombobulated this morning. My living room kept swinging between a place where I expected to see stained glass and crosses to expecting to have a concierge walk up and welcome me to Holiday Inn. Q pulled out his electric keyboard, and was alternating between setting it to pipe organ while he practiced "Oh Come All Ye Faithful" (Quite unsettling, actually...it sounded marvelous!) and then setting it to pre-fab cheesy songs like LaCookaracha. Add to that the soundtrack to High School Musical that E decided she needed to listen to, and I didn't know where my head was.

After the four-girl sleepover here on Friday, with more of the "High School Musical" songs accompanied by cartwheels done in very convoluted patterns around my smallish house,locking themselves in the bathroom while they raided my makeup, a trip to Red Lobster where every child ordered (of course) chicken fingers, and then yet more birthday cake, we're done with the birthday celebrations and have moved on to christmas. Here's our tree:
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Notice the complexity of Q's tree-sawing form. And yes, those are ski goggles he's wearing pushed up on his forehead. Don't ask me. He went and found them himself when we announced we were heading out to go slaughter our christmas tree. You know. Safety first.



And afterwards we carted it home. Notice here my daughter's fabulous fashion sense. I am not allowed to help her dress. Ever. We will evolve to belly button piercings and other more inappropriate choices for attire over the next several years, I am quite certain. Stay tuned. All this projection is why I am happy to let her run around in purple and orange and black go-go boots after all.