Christmas: the post-mortem

Christmas was...eh. It was okay. Without question, the best part was when we got home Saturday and Chaz and I stayed up and wrapped gifts to do Christmas at our house. We have decided we are definitely staying at our house next year. I love my mom, but I don't need to stay at my parents for a full week anymore. It was just to much.

The next best part was meeting up with a friend from high school. Via Facebook, we started messaging. I was a little worried about meeting up, afraid that it would be awkward and we'd have nothing to talk about. Couldn't have been different - there was seldom a second of silence, and a lot of laughing. She's single and lives in NYC and leads a very different life, but that's what made it interesting.

Now, I need to figure out how to get the house in reasonable shape again. It is a disaster zone. I'm going to put a lot of toys away and rotate them out. I also need to clean out closets and the living room, which has become a dumping ground. I'm going to give away a lot of clothes, including my maternity clothes. Not that a final decision has been made yet, but they're not in good shape anyway and I don't want them anymore.

So we're in the 'Ham and I'm just about wrapped up with all the work I brought with me. I'm ready to leave and finish up shopping.
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We took the kids to see Santa last night. I wish I'd brought the pic with me so I could scan it in. Too cute. Buttercup did great with him. Chaz was coaching her in line, and when her time came, she walked right up to him. He picked her up and she sat there without tears or anything. She looked a little wary of him, but still. Player was about half way asleep with a smelly diaper; he didn't really know what was up.

Chaz and I were going to finish up our shopping this afternoon, but our babysitter, my Mom, is at the hospital with my grandmother. She apparently fell and cut her head open. She lives at the most expensive nursing care facilty in the area and the care still isn't great. My aunt, who was first to arrive on the scene, was pretty pissed. My aunt told them that some of her medications make her dizzy. They replied that no one had told them. No, no one told you because YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO READ THE INSTRUCTIONS. Morons. She should be okay, but will need a couple of stiches.

[Background: My grandmother has severe dementia or Alzheimers. She doesn't know who any of us are. My mom said that she didn't understand what a Christmas tree was this year. But physically, she is in great shape. Which is actually worse.]
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I'm done breastfeeding. I'm torn - I'm kind of sad because the chances are I'll never breastfeed again, but on the other hand...thank friggin' God. I'm so sick of pumping. And I'm not making enough to ever get him full. I nurse and then he has to eat formula an hour later. I'll probably continue once a day for the next week so I don't get engorged, but then I'm done.

I'm dreading what my breasts are going to look like. All National Geographic. But maybe I'll be able to buy a bra at the deparment store. When I went a couple of months ago for a regular, no-nursing bra, they didn't have one big enough. That was so sad.