One last thing about that guy from Israel

Posted on January 16, 2025 by Good Times with Jess

I know we’re well into January. The Happy-New-Year email from the school nurse announcing large amounts of norovirus, pneumonia, and strep, didn’t really need to start with “Happy New Year.”

And the last thing you need is another Hanukkah post, but considering Hanukkah made it into January this year, I get a pass.

I meant to include this last week, but my brain no longer functions as a massive rolodex of blog content. The thoughts come and go. Sometimes they come back, sometimes they’re gone forever.

On December 20th our Mensch on the Bench arrived. He landed in the vicinity of our elves. RB noticed him first,

“Look there’s a guy!”

BB came running,

“It’s a mensch on the bench!”

RB asks,

“Can we touch him?”

BB screams,

“NOOO you’ll ruin his magic!”

RB asks,

“Does he go to the North Pole?”

I feel woefully unprepared for a mensch on the bench, but this I’ve got covered thanks to my wonderful yoga buddy. I declare,

“I think he goes to Jerusalem.”

Both girls nod their heads. This makes sense. As much sense as anything can make when three magical dolls are sitting in your kitchen plant.

On Christmas Eve our elves returned to the North Pole, i.e. a nondescript box with all correspondence between them and BB. I stared at Mensch. He stared at me.

How could he abandon us the day before Hanukkah starts? So he stayed. And stayed.

Back at the beginning of December, when BB mentioned she’d like a mensch, and I ordered one, I didn’t think about having committed future Jessica to an additional nine days of finding new, novel locations for magical friends.

A little knot of dread welled up inside of me, but I reassured myself that Hanukkah will never be this late in the year again until who knows when, so I pushed through.

In mid-December, the first thing my kids did in the morning was rush around the house looking for our international friends. By the end of December, I wasn’t even sure I needed to move Mensch. Had they looked for him?

When I mentioned to a friend that Mensch goes back to Jerusalem every night, she asked,

“Is that safe?”

And the good news is it’s getting safer!

Way back in November, I committed to hosting book club January 9th. I told everyone my house may or may not still be decorated for Hanukkah. I didn’t want any pressure to clean up anything.

I ask BB,

“When does Mensch return to Jerusalem for the year?”

“Maybe when the Hanukkah decorations go away?”

I have never cleaned up so promptly. On January 2nd, still within the last official hours of Hanukkah, the decorations began to disappear.

But Mensch was already gone. He made a New Year’s departure. I can’t really be expected to continue this into January.

One late-December morning RB woke up, pounded downstairs and tromped past Mensch in a different kitchen plant. I have a plant problem. RB glanced at him and shouted to me,

“That guy from Israel is still here.”

Happy New Year! I resolve to keep blogging at very irregular intervals. I’d love to promise you more than that. Maybe next year

Posted on January 7, 2025 by Good Times with Jess

I can’t say I recommend pneumonia. It took me out.

It’s hard to say when I went from some virus my small children swiped up from somewhere to never getting better.

I had a cough at the beginning of December. At some point I added congestion. By the week before Christmakkuh I was in bed in the middle of the day.

I took myself to the doctor. In the NP’s visit notes I’m referred to as:

“A pleasant 42-year-old female who presents today for evaluation of cough.”

I’m not sure where they got that idea. I did not feel pleasant.

I had already tested negative for Covid. I then tested negative for the flu and strep. My lungs sounded fine except he said he might’ve heard something. Then I was sent home.

On one of the busiest weeks of the whole year, I cleared my schedule and aside from being up and about for necessities, coughing all over my whole family, I was in bed.

And aside from feeling like I was dying, it was kinda nice to peace out.

The NP sent me home, so I wasn’t in a rush to go back to the doctor. Might’ve been nice if I did.

My inclination is to tough things out and eventually I’ll get better. That didn’t work out for me.

I took two more COVID tests, both negative.

On the second day of Hanukkah, ten days after I had last been at urgent care, I went again. A different NP said my lungs sounded nice and clear. She also said the last guy wrote in his notes,

“If she comes back, get a chest x-ray.”

Wish I’d known that. I might’ve come back sooner and not spent the week in bed.

My nice and clear lungs got x-rayed and were actually both full of fluid and diagnosed with pneumonia.

Between multiple antibiotics and codeine, I felt like a new woman in no time.

It turned out to be one of the best Hanukkahs I’ve ever had. I can’t remember the last time Hanukkah was during school vacation week. It was so relaxing.

Usually Hanukkah is a rush of: school, activities, light candles, eat dinner, open presents, play for a minute, go to bed, repeat.

This year it was eight days of: sleep late, leisurely breakfast, open presents, play, play, play, relax, light candles, eat dinner, never take off Hanukkah jammies.

We left the house plenty of the days, but it did not necessitate taking off our jammies.

If anyone is considering Target’s dollhouse for American Girl dolls, I can confirm it’s massive. Any dollhouse that requires wall anchors to not kill small children, is no small addition to the toy collection.

Back in August I mentioned the house to Captain. I told him the dimensions. He said,

“WHAT?! NO WAY!”

Somewhere between then and now I won him over, as evidenced by the missing corner of our living room, where there is now a three story mansion my children can fit inside.

There were many shared gifts this year. One gift, two girls. That’s just how it’s going to be and a week of screaming be damned.

The girls vacillate between playing together for hours like a dream, to being out for blood.

The house was in the middle of both scenarios.

During one ferocious battle of who puts what where in the dollhouse, RB said,

“Maybe we need two houses.”

At which point I kicked both kids out of the living room. Dollhouse all to myself.

If anyone has reservations about a 5-year old lighting her own candles, we do too

And if anyone’s wondering what happens when you take post-pneumonia lungs to 9,000 feet above sea level in Quito, Ecuador, I will let you know next month!

The magic of the holidays is alive! Or not! Depending who’s asking

Posted on December 12, 2024 by Good Times with Jess

It’s that time of year again when I marvel at the enormous amount of Hanukkah decor I’ve accumulated and I don’t add anything else. NOT ONE THING.

JUST KIDDING. Home Goods had a giant, metal, light up sign, as tall as my children, with arrows showing you what direction Hanukkah is. It’s HERE!

If I jumped the shark four years ago when I purchased traditional Hanukkah gnomes. I don’t know what I’ve done now, considering this decoration doesn’t even fit in our storage bins

Tutu, our elf on the shelf is back, she had a baby. Which surprised all of us.

I bought a tiny American Girl doll elf, intending to give it as a gift Christmas Day/Hanukkah night. The tiny elf is so CUTE. I couldn’t resist it coming out sooner.

What I didn’t anticipate was that this would send RB down the rabbit hole of how babies are made and more specifically, how elf babies are made.

Things in the Land of Make Believe have deteriorated. I’m not sure who believes what at this point and I’m about ready to wave the white flag or one of my 37 Hanukkah dish towels.

I would like to tell you I did not buy another one this year, but that would be a lie.

RB (my 5-year old) has come down every morning and interrogated me.

A few weeks ago, before our elf appeared, she stared deep into my soul and asked,

“Is the Easter Bunny real or are you the Easter Bunny?”

“What do you think?”

“I think it’s you.”

“Ah.”

She does not like this non answer. She presses her nose against mine and yells

“TELL ME THE TRUTH!”

I cannot hold up to these interrogation techniques. I whimper,

“It’s me.”

“I KNEW IT!”

At which point BB (8-years old) joined us and I thought RB would tell all. RB didn’t say a word.

Then Tutu our elf appeared. BB reminded RB not to touch her or else that would ruin her magic. BB ran around writing notes to Tutu, making her jewelry and when I wasn’t home, putting out a charcuterie board with cheese for her.

Why Captain thought that was a good idea I DO NOT KNOW.

The next morning RB pressed her face against mine and yelled,

“Is Tutu magic or DID YOU BUY HER AT THE STORE?”

“What do you think?”

“I think she’s real and pretend.”

“Sounds about right.”

No one should have to deal with the 7am pre-breakfast wrath of RB. (Who may be hard of hearing, so we’ll give her a small benefit of doubt with the yelling.) She locks eyes with me, staring deep beyond my soul again and shouts,

“DID YOU BUY TUTU AT THE STORE?!! TELL ME THE TRUTH!”

“Yes, I did.”

“I knew it.”

Again BB joined us and I was sure RB would tell her the new information. RB didn’t say a word. Not only did RB not say a word, but she continued to join BB in talking to Tutu and relaying messages for Santa.

Then two nights ago RB lost her first tooth! She accepted her money and hasn’t asked a single question about the toothfairy.

This morning, in what has continued to be my 7am torture session, RB asked,

“Does Santa really bring presents or is it you and Dad?”

Months ago I told both kids,

“This year, because the first night of Hanukkah is the same day as Christmas, we’re not going to do any Christmas presents. We’ll just do Hanukkah presents.”

BB said,

“That’s ok, because Santa will still bring us something.”

And so Santa set aside one gift for Christmas, because as you may have guessed, I have a strong affinity for Hanukkah.

This morning, RB wouldn’t even give me her usual good morning hug, kiss and snuggle. She demanded answers about Santa. I asked,

“What do you think?”

“I think it’s you and dad.”

“Yeah.”

“IS IT?!? TELL ME THE TRUTH!!!”

“Yes, it’s Dad and me.”

BB told me recently that a friend had told her and RB that the Easter Bunny wasn’t real. I asked BB,

“What do you think?”

“She made those muddy footprints in our living room one year!”

“That’s true. I think the Easter Bunny is like a unicorn. You can believe in them if you want.”

“Unicorns aren’t real.”

“Right.”

“The Easter Bunny is.”

So I think we’re in the land of BB wanting to believe. And I’m not sure what land RB is in. She believes and doesn’t believe and hasn’t said a word to BB about any of it.

To put this all over the absolute top. BB came home from Hebrew school this week and asked,

“Why don’t we have a Mensch on the Bench?”

“I don’t know. We have two elves. Isn’t that enough?”

“But the Mensch on the Bench is for Hanukkah.”

“Is the Mensch on the Bench magic?”

This is a huge question of mine. The whole elf on the shelf thing goes along with Santa and all that make believe. BB ponders the Mensch magic dilemma and replies,

“Maybe?”

Our Mensch on the Bench is facing a shipping delay from whichever magical place with tariffs he’s coming from, but he should be here December 20th.

I asked my fellow Jewish yoga buddy,

“I don’t know what I’m doing with the Mensch, is he magic? Where does he go every night? Not back to the North Pole.”

“Jerusalem!”

Of course he does. Please give a warm welcome to our future Mensch and the last bit of Hanukkah decor I will buy. Until next week.

Very Merry EVERYTHING and Twerking Santa

Posted on December 21, 2023 by Good Times with Jess

That’s a wrap on Hanukkah. RB is more confused than ever and still hoping for candy eggs.

After dinner she ran into the library, where all the Hanukkah presents used to be. It’s the room that has room for everything. Move over exercise bike, giant stuffed dreidel coming through.

RB shouted. She shouts everything. Someone said they have never met a louder 4-year-old. I’m not sure what to do with that information. RB runs back into the kitchen and yells at me,

“Hanukkah present time!!! WHERE ARE THE PRESENTS?”

“Hanukkah is over.”

“HANUKKAH IS OVER? NO MORE PRESENTS?!”

I almost wish I could say no. Instead I say,

“There will be more for Christmas.”

RB runs back into the library, runs back into the kitchen. Yells at me again,

“There are NO Christmas presents.”

“No. It’s not Christmas yet and the Christmas presents will be under the tree.”

As we sit down for dinner RB sighs,

“I love Passover.”

Right. Talk to me in four months.

Then the other day we were headed out for a Hanukkah party. RB jumps with joy,

“I’m so excited for my birthday!”

Which was in October.

RB heads off to her swim lesson with a present for her coach in hand. She tells me,

“I’m going to say ‘Happy Hanukkah!'”

“I don’t think she celebrates Hanukkah.”

“I should say ‘Happy Hanukkah’ because she hasn’t had it.”

Ok.

We have an impressive amount of Hanukkah clothing, thanks Target: Sparkly blue menorah dresses, sequin dreidel sweaters, menorah shoes, dinosaur star of David leggings and menorah underwear.

I try to stay out of the morning clothing selection, any input is ripe for conflict, but RB is relentless in her bugging for help.

“WHAT SHOULD I WEAR?!”

“How about a Hanukkah dress?”

“Ok.”

She comes down in a sparkly red sweater dress. It looks great. She asks,

“Is this a Hanukkah dress?”

“More of a Christmas dress.”

“IT’S A HANUKKAH DRESS!”

Ok! PLEASE STOP YELLING about EVERYTHING.

A day ago I was notified that a yankee swap for the kids was added to a Christmas party this Friday. I wrack my brain and my timeline. I have one brilliant idea. It will not arrive in time from Amazon.

I scour the internet. It’s available at ACE Hardware! It is not an item I would EVER think of going to ACE Hardware for. I order it ASAP for pickup.

I walk into the store. I wait in line surrounded by ACE Hardware clientele. One guy offers me his spot in line. Under normal circumstances I’d decline, but this is a crazy time of year and I’ll save 3 minutes wherever I can.

I approach the counter. The cashier stares at me,

“Hi, I’m picking up.”

He continues to stare.

“Jessica Curtis.”

Still staring.

“C-U-R-“

“What is it?”

“What?”

“What are you picking up?”

I have picked up many things at many stores and I can’t remember a single time when I’ve been asked to declare in front of everyone what I bought. I tell the Hardware associate,

“Twerking Santa.”

I walk out the door to the tune of some Christmas song and Santa vibrating his tuchus.

All of this just to get him home, put him on the counter and realize his twerking is not good.

I intend on exchanging him, but the reason ACE Hardware has a supply of twerking Santas this late in the season is because none of them actually twerk. Their butts just vibrate.

I update Captain, planning to come home and see if there are any books related to poop or farts or the bathroom in any way.

Out of character for Captain, he has become invested in this. When I’m almost home, he calls me back,

“Go to Home Depot! They have a sloth!”

Sloths are the IT animal in our house right now.

“A twerking sloth?!”

“I don’t think so.”

It is not a twerking sloth, but it does have a Santa hat on and dances to MC Hammer. It is now on my dresser awaiting its fate at the yankee swap.

Bottom line is it’s a celebrating time of year and the more holidays the better. If anyone celebrates Kwanzaa, I’m all ears.

My understated take on Hanukkah, a minor Jewish holiday

Dances faster than one would expect for a sloth

Happy Hanukkah!!! Jury is out on this one…

Posted on December 7, 2023 by Good Times with Jess

When we moved to the burbs 6.5 years ago, the only Hanukkah decor I had was our actual menorah. We now own eight menorahs. Some are homemade and potentially flammable.

I added a bin of decor per year. There are seven bins. I will not be needing an additional bin this year, but it wasn’t a buy-nothing season either, despite Hanukkah being moments after Thanksgiving.

As you may know from previous posts, I adore Home Goods’ ability to have the most random, how-did-I-live-without-these, Hanukkah items. I walked in last week just to check and walked out with the most bejeweled, bedazzled, menorah wall-hanging I’ve ever seen.

Considering how sparkly and shiny everyone and everything is right now, this menorah is on trend. And if someone knows where to buy a faux-fur menorah, I’m sure I can find a spot for it.

The kids are ready. RB keeps shouting,

“I’m so excited for Hanukkah and candy eggs!”

“Candy eggs?!”

“Yeah. That bunny holiday!”

Hmmm.

RB has her priorities: candy.

The other day RB peered into her pumpkin bucket in despair. A few starbursts were scattered at the bottom. Then RB got a glimpse of BB’s halloween bucket still brimming with candy.

RB howls,

“It’s NOT FAIR!”

On October 31st, both buckets were equally full.

Every time RB sat down with her bucket, she made it her mission to unwrap and eat as many pieces of candy as possible. She eats candy in a way that’s very consistent with her personality: quick, efficient, and on to the next thing.

Every time BB sat down with her bucket, she picked up the same ring pop from the time before, sucked on it, day dreamed, sucked on it, day dreamed. Then she put her half-gone ring pop back in the wrapper to continue with another day.

She made zero progress consuming her candy bucket. This is very consistent with BB’s personality: no rush, no… rush…, really she has zero sense of urgency. Her candy bucket might still be around by the time we get to candy eggs.

This blog post has been open on my computer all week. I was chugging along, on track to finish it this morning and start Hanukkah tonight, but then everything came to a screeching halt. Yesterday around 4pm RB vomitted everywhere. She continued to vomit all night. Then she woke up in the morning and declared herself all better.

I am NOT all better. I’m sleep deprived, although still healthy. The question is for how long. Can I and the remaining members of my family stay healthy for 8 nights? Seems unlikely considering how much vomit I came in contact with. But it’s not called a Hanukkah miracle for nothing.

In between vomits yesterday I threw a blanket on the floor and put RB on top. She started to scream. Considering she had been maintaining her silent misery, I had no idea why she was screaming all of sudden. I cry,

“What is it?!”

She points her finger at the edge of the blanket on the floor. Half the tassels are out and half are in. RB is clenching her whole body and screams,

“THAT!”

I flick the edge of the blanket back and forth so all the tassels are going the same way. RB relaxes and goes silent.

I would’ve thought that being on a vomit spree would put one’s OCD on hold, but it seems to be the opposite. Uneven blanket tassels are UNBEARABLE. Remind me to never buy anything with tassels again.

RB’s attention to detail was strong all week, even before she got sick. BB likes the Hanukkah decorations and accepts however I put it out. RB has specific opinions about how it should look.

I have one Hanukkah house, waiting for me to start a Hanukkah village. In front of the Hanukkah house I put a dreidel person and a menorah person. The other day RB added a toothbrush person.

I didn’t think of the toothbrush person as someone celebrating Hanukkah, but we need all the support we can get.

Hope you have a HEALTHY new year! Even Captain

Posted on January 1, 2023 by Good Times with Jess

Happy New Year!!! I was waiting to stop coughing and then I’d write a blog post, but I may never stop coughing.

I know I’m in the good company of many, many other sick people. There were over a hundred kids absent from BB’s school two weeks ago, so we didn’t stand a chance.

Or maybe we did, but our chances weren’t good and we did NOT luck out.

We’re three weeks out from whatever mucus-laden virus this is. BB went down first and recovered quickly. Although she’s still coughing.

RB went next. Then me. Then our house guest.

Our house guest had a simple choice: Hanukkah with the kids and a lot of snot, or a kid and mucus-free Hanukkah. She picked snot.

RB has wiped her nose so aggressively, for so long, that her upper lip is bleeding and there are smears of blood appearing everywhere she likes to wipe her nose: clothes, lovies, furniture, the wall.

On the 23rd, at RB’s school’s Hanukkah party, someone told me,

“Just a warning, Strep is going around.”

I said a small prayer. And if proximity has anything to do with that working, I WAS in the synagogue. I didn’t say much else considering whatever virus we had, had caused me to lose my voice.

Christmas eve, my throat started to feel worse. The last night of Hanukkah/Christmas day, my throat felt even worse, but going to the doctor was low on my to-do list.

The day after Christmas, I couldn’t get there fast enough. Strep. The test came back positive, but the doctor was so confident just by looking at the state of my throat that I walked out of there with a prescription and ran straight into a fellow school family at CVS. Instead of hello, I offer,

“Strep?”

“How’d you know?!? Is it that obvious?”

“No, it’s going around school. RB says hi!”

I say another small prayer: ‘Please don’t let my children get this.’ I can’t get RB to take Tylenol. A 10-day course of antibiotics would be a curse.

As four of us round the corner on week three of being ill, Captain has never been healthier. This is wonderful. No kiddo bedtimes for me, but also I couldn’t be more envious.

For years I have been happy to lord over him my strong immune system. It seems he falls prey to whatever virus might be wafting by.

I spent a month in India eating whatever street food I stumbled upon and enjoyed myself with a very manageable amount of diarrhea.

I spent four years behind the bar, eating strangers’ leftovers, with no more than a few sniffles.

I spent the last ten years with Captain, feeling bad for his stuffed up nose, but not so bad that I didn’t enjoy every ounce of my congestion free life.

I am now in week three of the most mucus I’ve ever produced in my life. There feels like there’s some lesson to be learned here.

Maybe it’s to avoid small children. I’ll let you know how that goes.

Ariel may be creepy, but you can count on her immune system.

Mom life. Struggling to talk/breath/exist, but both kiddos thought they might not make it if I didn’t hold them at the same time. Somehow managed to keep the strep for myself. I think. A Hanukkah miracle?

Can we store toys in the Land of Make Believe?

Posted on January 7, 2020 by Good Times with Jess

SO MANY TOYS. I am the number one contributor to this problem. I’m not sure what to do about it. I want to give BB presents. I also want to be able to see the floor of my living room.

There are toys that haven’t even come out of their boxes yet and toys that did, but BB refused to play with.

She opened her Buzz Lightyear jammies and declared,

“I’m still looking for a Buzz Lightyear costume.”

I explain that the jammies can go both ways. Then she opens what I thought was a fantastic idea for my little space, Toy Story enthusiast: a Buzz Lightyear helmet and jet pack. I’m thinking that can go over the jammies to make it a real costume.

A week later BB has yet to try on the helmet.

I ask BB,

“I’m thinking about returning the Buzz Lightyear helmet, what do you think?”

“No, I want it.”

“Do you want to wear it?”

“No.”

“Then maybe I can return it.”

“I’ll wear it in the summer.”

Last year I returned a Christmas present and BB missed it so much that the Easter Bunny brought it back.

For RB we just rewrapped BB’s old toys. I thought BB was oblivious, but after opening another baby toy for RB she declares,

“Did I play with this when I was a baby?”

“Yes.”

Santa re-gifting was not an issue, but I did field more questions. Not my strong suit. BB tells Captain and me,

“Open your stockings!”

“There’s nothing in them.”

“Why?”

“Santa only does the kids’ stockings.”

“Why?”

Because Santa has a new baby and whatever Santa managed to do this year is a miracle.

BB gestures to her toys that are sitting in front of the fireplace,

“Were those in the way of Santa?”

“Oh no. That doesn’t stop him.” Although the child safety lock might’ve given him some trouble.

I’m still struggling with this whole thing. Where does it end? Now when BB asks where Santa lives, I’ve changed my story. I say,

“He lives in the North Pole in the Land of Make Believe, along with the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy.”

BB is very satisfied with this answer and still believes in all of them.

She’s planning a trip to the Land of Make Believe to get a pet unicorn. She says she wants one real one and one pretend one.

Maybe I can return the Buzz Lightyear helmet and she can help herself to a pretend one.

Adding a little bounce to my holiday

Despite the supposed war on Christmas, here we are

Posted on December 20, 2018 by Good Times with Jess

Jew here and it’s Christmas time. I never celebrated it until a few years ago, but my Jewish soul is no match for my desire to put lighted reindeer on my lawn. The main problem is I have no sense of nostalgia for Christmas like I do for Hanukkah, or Halloween, or any other holiday I grew up celebrating.

We’re hosting Christmas day this year. It’s just Captain’s immediate family, but still. There needs to be food. What food? For Passover there’s matzo ball soup, for Hanukkah there’s latkes, for Christmas there’s? I turn to Captain. This is his holiday. He is an unreliable source of information. He’s just not sure.

I can’t fathom this. I text his mom:

“Do you guys usually have turkey or ham for Christmas day? I come from a long line of people who went out for Chinese food.”

I learned that both have been done, so we’re going with ham and maybe a kugel and maybe some wonton soup.

In the last couple months BB has decided she loves going to the playroom at the YMCA. She gets to play and I get 2 hours of babysitting. I can workout or I can sit on my butt in the cafe or I can do both. Two hours is a lifetime.

I’ve been going to yoga regularly and it feels great. There’s a lovely woman I look forward to chatting with every week, but today a guy was waiting for class too and he dominated the pre-class chatter. He turns to me,

“I trust you celebrate Christmas?”

If you’d asked me a few years ago, no. I tell him we celebrate Hanukkah and Christmas. He asks what’s on my kid’s list. My neon green bracelet is a dead giveaway that I have a child in the playroom.

I mention that BB got most of what she asked for for Hanukkah. Then he asks,

“Do you have more than one?”

“Nope.”

“Do you want more or is one good?”

This is the point where I’m tempted to scream,

“MY BABY JUST DIED.”

I don’t. I keep it together.

And speaking of dead things, I hope our tree makes it. It’s dropping a lot of needles. It doesn’t help that BB likes to pet it. She pats the tree and as needles scatter everywhere she says,

“Gentle, gentle.”

And then there’s the elf on the shelf. All of November I pondered whether we should have one and if we should, should we start this year? The one other Jewish mom in our town has a mensch on a bench. Actually there are at least 2 other Jewish moms in my town, but that’s all I know for sure.

I wonder about the mensch on a bench. The elf goes back to Santa every night, where does the mensch go? I have other questions, but it feels like if this is something we’re going to do because I don’t want BB to miss out on what most of the other kids are doing, then we might as well do the elf.

The day after Hanukkah ended our elf arrived. BB named her Tutu. I’ve yet to remember to move her until the next morning when I run around like a panicked person, although BB doesn’t get it or care if Tutu moves or not. Yesterday Tutu “flew” off the top of the refrigerator when I banged the door closed. I had to touch her, which means she probably won’t move for a few more days, that works for me.

I have many more thoughts on Christmas, but whatever you celebrate, I trust we can talk again soon.