The Christmas tree and reliving toddler days...

Justin put this picture up on Facebook the other day, showing the Facebook world that our tree is about twice as big as any that we've ever had.

When we were signing for our house, the previous owner asked if we wanted to buy their twelve foot Christmas tree for $50. I blithely agreed without taking into account some logistical factors--like needing a ladder, lots of lights, and more ornaments to add to our eclectic, but meager supply. Btw, we're pretty sure that the tree is ten foot, not twelve. But we're not mad about it, especially when we saw the price tag on the box for $299.

One benefit of adding the ladder to the setting up of the tree was that Justin was fully involved. He is usually at best ambivalent about helping with the decorations, but he LOVED getting up on the eight foot ladder and was truly helpful for the first time ever. I should  figure out a way to incorporate tools into dinner prep or mundane household tasks...

Putting the lights on the tree took a lot more work, and we ended up missing a chunk in the middle with the colored lights (from Justin's shoulder to elbow in the picture) which I finally fixed this morning.

On another note, our house looks like a toddler lives here. Toys are strewn across the floor-- bones, balls, plastic toys, and empty water bottles (Pepper likes to chew on them) instead of Fisher Price, but the effect is the same. We say, "No," all the time followed by a redirect.  And the Christmas tree's bottom branches are misshapen and bereft of ornaments. Fortunately, the top eight feet are out of reach. For now. 

'Twas the Night Before Christmas...

...when after getting to bed after midnight, I couldn't sleep. I had some responsibilities for the Christmas morning service at church that were going through my mind--the music team had been unable to practice on Friday night, I needed to ask some people to read scripture passages in the morning, and I hadn't double-checked the powerpoint. Neighbors and their guests were chatting loudly outside since most people here stay up late into the night on Christmas Eve.

I was also debating whether the cinnamon rolls would be done in time before we needed to leave for church if I started them at 7:30, when we told the kids they could wake us up or if I should have set an alarm for earlier. And Scott's cold was making him snore. Loudly.

Finally, around two, I decided to move out onto the couch. Taking my pillow, I went into Anna's room and tried to sneak off one of her blankets from her bed. She has four or five on there, so I knew she wouldn't miss it. I went out to the couch, but Anna appeared, Cindy Lou Who-style. I had woken her up.

I ended up getting in at the bottom of her bed and covering my head to protect myself from the glare of her extremely bright nightlight. It was tricky because I needed enough cover to keep the light out, but not so much that I felt like I was suffocating. I could still hear the snoring, the people outside, and the neighbors upstairs coming in. And I still was debating about how to manage cinnamon rolls, but given the hour, I decided against trying to get up any earlier than 7:30. Eventually, I drifted off into a very light sleep.

Sometime after that, Scott woke up and noticed my absence from the bed. He was confused because I never, ever vacate the bed at night. He looked, but I wasn't on the couch and he didn't see me in the kids' rooms. Since I was buried under covers over my head at the foot of Anna's bed, and the middle part of the bed is has a canopy, I was expertly camouflaged.

My poor husband stood in the living room early in the wee hours of Christmas morning, wondering where I could be.

He heard people talking in the hallway. Loudly. And finally realized that he heard them too well. Our door was open. It often is these days, with Anna going back and forth between our elderly neighbor's place and ours. Our door is at the end of a hallway, and we don't see it unless we're going in or out, so we just hadn't noticed. For about eight hours.

Scott closed the door and started to freak out. Where else could I be? Was I sleepwalking? Had my pillow and I been nabbed by reveling neighbors?

He eventually did recheck the beds and discovered my hide-out. He said it looked like a very awkward sleeping position. Which it was.

So, it took him a while to get back to sleep.

At some point in the early morning, I decided to get up and check the time. It was seven, so I went ahead and got the cinnamon rolls going. They were ready and perfect in plenty of time.

The church service was sweet.

We got a last-minute invitation from friends who had extra space for Christmas dinner and took them up on it. Their younger son and Justin are buddies, and I was so tired that I was happy to put our turkey dinner off for a day. We ate an amazing French meal, including our first Christmas goose.

There was no snoring, reveling, or planning last night, so we all slept very well.

And we had our small turkey dinner this evening.

Christmas Treats

Here's a picture from a recent sale flyer from our neighborhood grocery store. 

The flyer is filled with special Christmas treats including these cute little glazed ducklings and snowmen...

Now let's guess what they are made of...

Chocolate covered in caramel? Nope.

Ice cream? Nope. 

Cake with a drippy glaze? Not even close.

Here's a hint...it's on the meat page...yikes...

And the answer is...

Duck liver, of course.  Small rabbits, ducklings, and snowmen made out of duck liver. Only a euro fifty each.

I imagine that this is based on a traditional French delicacy, and I am trying to keep an open mind à la Babette's Feast. However, all of my American cultural baggage is screaming, "Small rabbits and ducklings should be made of chocolate, or at worst, marshmallow cream. Never, ever made of meat, and certainly not mashed up organ meat. Ever."

And I just don't think anyone should be eating those soulless snowmen.  Take another look at their scary, empty eyes. My sensitive child would weep if I served these up.

Merry Christmas from France!

Christmas in Nice

I still have limited access to the computer, but Anna is at a neighbor's place and Scott and Justin have snuck out for some last minute Christmas shopping. Woo hoo!

Last weekend we woke up at the crack of dawn, got ourselves over to the church at 8:15 a.m., our meeting time, walked over to the train station for our 9:00 a.m. meeting time, and finally got on a bus a good while after that to head to Toulon. We were going to see a musical in the evening, but there were to be activities and shows all day.

Our information was a little off though. We arrived, went through a very well-done nativity recreation, and then...nothing. We found a sunny spot out of the wind to eat outside at the edge of the parking lot and wondered how to entertain fifteen children for five hours.

An enclosure with some farm animals was set up where of course Anna was fully entertained. She eventually got to hold the baby goat for a while. We spied a ball stuck in a tree and got it down, so the boys played soccer. We eventually walked down to the port and then to the Christmas village, which is basically exactly like Nice's Christmas village except we don't have this...

This is  a man in fancy garb moving his arms in slow motion while his cats stay on his arms. I'll have to say that the kids were mesmerized. 

The other main entertainment was this...

...which was interesting, but a little creepy. At least one of them scared a small child by coming too close. Which begs the question, why would you have entertainment that scares children for Christmas?

Where are the elves, the reindeer, and Santa?

I think the answer is that Christmas is supposed to be magical here, and magical things can get a little creepy sometimes. And in fairness to the creepy Christmas village entertainment, plenty of kids are scared to death to sit on Santa's lap. If you are going to scare children for Christmas, the adults might as well be entertained by jazzy music.

Here's the snow from the snow machine, which gave off a copious amount.

Next will be French Christmas goodies...the next time I manage to nab the computer.

Christmas in Nice

We've had a busy holiday season with good friends visiting, lots of food, and much fun with our friends' new Wii.  All those years of step classes finally paid off as I achieved the highest score on the Wii Fit step activity.  Never mind that I was competing against children under the age of ten.  It still counts, especially as they beat me in EVERYTHING else.  Oh, except hula hoop.  I did pretty well there too.  Not the highest scorer, but close. Unfortunately, the Wii departed with our friends.  We miss the Wii.  A lot.  Oh, and our friends too.

So here's a picture of the living nativity scene in the center of Vieux Nice.  We all bundled up to go see this one afternoon.  There were live animals, but the old store mannequins dressed in crop pants and leg warmers were umm, just weird.