This was such a wonderful Christmas, I can hardly bear for it to end.  I hope all of you had a blessed day as well, filled with close friends and family and lots of love.

We did have something odd happen though, so I thought I’d mention it.  Last night, after the Christmas Even candlelight service at church, we were tracking Santa on NORAD (he’s in Argentina!  Uruguay!  Rio!  Better get in bed girls, he’ll be in the Keys before you know it!) and man, that old man was BOOKIN’ it.  He was spreading gifts to entire cities in, like, 6 minutes.  No wonder he can never stay still long enough for a picture with my little ones.

Finally, everyone was in bed and Santa came and went and then we were asleep.  And then… dun dun dun… Sawyer woke up and he was loud enough to wake his brother.  So they came in to get us.  Now, when Sawyer wakes up in the middle of the night and we know about it, one of us has to get up and watch him.  Our bed isn’t big enough, so we usually take him down stairs and he lays on one couch and we take the other one for the rest of the night.  But last night was Christmas.  And the tree was downstairs with all of the gifts around it.  And Sawyer didn’t know it was Christmas (we don’t tell him because he gets so upset.  He wants to open presents NOW and he persiverates… no, better for it to be a Surprise!  Presents under the tree!  thing.)

If Sawyer had seen the gifts under the tree, he would never have gone back to sleep.  So I went down and covered the gifts with two bed sheets.  I expected we’d be up with a tantrumming Sawyer for the rest of the night, but no.  He came downstairs, walked right past the tree with mysterious bedsheet covered bumps underneath it and went right to sleep on the couch.

THAT, my friends, is the difference between autism and the neurotypical.  My other kids, seeing the bedsheets, would have been DYING of curiosity to know what was underneath.  Even if it wasn’t Christmas, and they weren’t expecting gifts, they would have wanted to know what it was.  Sawyer?  Not so much.  Out of sight, out of mind.  Who the heck cares about some old bedsheets?

In other news, my daughter got unlimited texting for Christmas (we had texting blocked on her phone for over a year because she ran up our bill once “accidentally”.)

…It should have made the nightly news.

She texted everyone she knew this morning.  Merry Christmas!  I got texting!  And spent the entire day texting back and forth with her buddies.  At one point she was out in the yard in her pajamas texting for about 10 minutes until I told her to come in and get dressed.

It’s a wonder she remembered to eat today.

I feel like an old fogey because texting is just something I feel I am too old for.  I like most new technology, but texting just seems like more trouble than it’s worth to me.

Last year, I said I’d make a Christmas pizza today instead of spending the day in the kitchen cooking.  So that’s what I did.  Except, making the dough, rolling it out, cutting up all the vegetables and the meats, shredding the cheese, firing up the pizza stone… pretty labor intensive.  I was in the kitchen just as much as with other years, but this time with less assurance.  The pizzas came out fine, but NEXT year, we shall be ordering pies from a local establishment and tipping the poor Christmas workers well to assauge our guilt.

After all, isn’t that what payouts are all about?