It's not over until...

Do you hate that expression? "It's not over 'til the fat lady sings." But when it comes to Christmas this year -- I'm singing! It's O-V-A-H! We had a great Christmas -- despite the fact my daughter for four days had the worst case of stomach flu I have ever witnessed, my grandson had an asthma attack at 11pm on Christmas Eve and my daughter (who was really sick, so has an excuse) forgot to bring his nebulizer so had to drive him back to her house (with her head pounding and a 102 temperature) to treat him. All's well that ends well. It ended well. We had a terrific Christmas. My husband went over our agreed upon budget by so much that I'm wondering if he needs to go get a second job to pay for it all. (Don't even ask if I need to go get a FIRST job to pay for it all -- he's the one who went over budget, not me! Consequences of your actions, my dear.) My grandson never quite got with the whole "yippy, Santa brought me presents" program. If he gets any more unique, I may have to rent him out to families with obnoxious children, or put him on the David Letterman Show. Three years old, off-the-wall hyper, Santa, presents, stockings, gift wrapping everywhere -- that's how it's supposed to be, right? He opened maybe three presents. He loved them. He stacked them up in a pile and sat watching what we opened. I handed him another present. "Here, Brayden, this is for you from Santa." No reaction. "Brayden? Do you want to open this present now?" His response. "Noooooo, maybe in a little while." OK. I left him alone. Came back later and repeated my question and got "Nooooo... I think maybe in a few minutes." There are still six or seven unwrapped presents under my tree, and as far as I know, he never did open his stocking. From an early age, my kids practically had to be tranquilized on Christmas Eve. My husband and I normally had to stay up until 2 or 3am to wait for the kids to go to sleep so we could bring in Santa's goodies. We had to set a rule -- no getting up before 5am. OK, I had to set that rule because my husband wanted to get the kids up, but still... The good news? I apparently have my shopping done for Brayden's third birthday in March. The bad news? Apparently my daughter is a better mother than I was. No wait, that's good news, too. She's instilling something in this little guy that I totally missed with mine -- patience? lack of greed? the ability to want things to remain on an even keel even on Christmas morning? Watching others open gifts is as much fun as opening your own? See? I can't define it because I must have been playing hooky that day of Mothering School. Whatever it is, she gets an A+ for it! And now it's over. Presents, both wrapped and unwrapped, have been played with, admired, and put away. Cookies have been eaten or left out unwrapped to go stale and thrown away. Leftover foods are boxed up, shared, or frozen. All the trash was taken to the garage, then taken to the curb, then whisked away first thing this morning. Non-stop "A Christmas Story" on the television has been replaced with.. well, silence for now. (Ahhhhhhhhh....) Joey the Killer Cat is happiest of all because he got a new rubber alligator for Christmas and it's his new best friend. They are inseparable. Joey carries the alligator around in his mouth and has it within six inches of him at all times. Unfortunate for the cat's sanity, my husband received a mini-remote control car for Christmas, and he is this very second upstairs taping the alligator to the top of the car...