Miss Abigail Bo Peep. And it’s not even Halloween yet. I bought this outfit forever ago, and rummaged through the closet today, attempting to weed out the outgrown–so I may begin to make a quilt for each of them, assembled from their most treasured outfits–and bring in the new. Which made me realize we’re fast approaching The Triple Jump. There of course is Halloween, and the costumes I’ll need to create for the tots, but that’s not what I mean. The stores are already fit with Christmas ornaments, table settings, and decorations. Not just for Thanksgiving, or even Halloween. Already they’re reminding you that life is warmer and more worth living if you have a wreath.
I am not really sure how to get this particular obsession of mine down. I just about live for holiday music; I listen to it yearlong. I do a bit of chair dancing when I realize that certain radio stations forgo their usual DJs, and amp things up with 24 hr/day holiday music. It means harmonizing and the hippopotamus song. Cookies, oh the cookies. And sweet little outfits for the honey belles. I am in love with classics. Stewart Plaid. Peter Pan Collar. Really want to get me going? Spanish shorts (with the H strap). I can’t help it! I know it’s something they might spend the rest of their lives trying to overcome, but man, I have to do it. I live for those H strap shorts. Or shortalls (instead of overalls). I know they make True Religion jeans and Calypso dresses for tots. I’m just not into designer baby, grunge baby, or even tie-dye baby (though I will say, I haven’t seen anything as cute as this non-prep "rocker" outfit in the milkshop look book. And I love the prepster pink and green ‘cruisewear’). I’m into old-school preppy classic baby. All American baby. Timeless baby. Pinafore dresses, anything nautical, argyle and then we’re back to Stewart plaid. There’s nothing better looking to me than a pansy boy. So cute. This week, I’m taking the opportunity to buy all the holiday decorations now. This house needs some serious sprucing up.
I spent all day today cleaning the house. I hadn’t set out to do this, so midway through, I realized I was vacuuming the whole house with a Dustbuster hand held instead of pulling out the real vacuum. It’s just the hand held doesn’t seem like a commitment. It’s just a quick thing I’ll do. Just this area here. But before I knew it, I Swiffer-Wet-Jetted through the house, then vacuumed and sprayed. Oh, the glory was washing all my bras using the "hand wash" function on my front-loading washing machine. The taters loved to watch the laundry.
Now that the house and laundry are dust free, I need to add a few warming touches. Namely, we really need to buy a mantel for our fireplace. One that isn’t just decorative, that is, one that won’t melt or burn when we build a fire. We already have our monogrammed stockings and tree ornaments (as soon as Dad sends those). I want a cranberry wreath for the door, the smell of pine and apple cider. Oh how I just love a tree. Phil already wonders how we’ll get it to the house. "We tie it to the roof of our car. So what’s the problem?"
"Then you take it down, get sap all over yourself, needles here and there, get it to stand tall and proud without tipping–of course in one of those feeder things, so it doesn’t dry out. Then we have a tree-trimming ‘party,’ where it will most likely not be a party but a small gathering perhaps, so quit rolling your eyes. Yeah, it will end up costing us money we should be saving for a pool, or the Bob Revolution Duo jogging stroller. And then, when everyone is gone afterwards, there will be food coma and too much mess. And dishes. And pots. And too many glasses. But I’ll get to load up the playlist and our guests." Yum. Christmas hooch. I should dress as Santa for Halloween, and dress the babies as my elves.