Christmas Eve

We enjoyed a quiet evening at home tonight.  Since we celebrated Christmas at Mama and Daddy's last night, we had nowhere to be tonight and it was actually pretty wonderful.  We had plenty to keep us busy with trying to get the house clean, preparing for Christmas morning breakfast and anticipating Santa's arrival.  Jody took the boys over to Mema Willa's for a visit while I ran out for  groceries.  Jody was less than amused when he saw the fifteen pounds of sausage I bought for my breakfast casseroles.  Why?  Because we have 400 pounds of sausage in the freezers at the barn.  I totally forgot we had fresh pork and spent a small fortune on Jimmy Dean. If I had done the same with beef or eggs, he probably would have divorced me.  

The boys returned home and after baths, we baked cookies for Santa.  The boys insisted on leaving Santa white and chocolate milk, just in case he like both.  Jack was in charge of putting out food for the reindeer and added a bowl of water in case they were thirsty.

Every year I order the boys matching pajamas for Christmas Eve.  I waited too late this year and when I finally went to place my order, their sizes weren't available.  Target didn't have anything that matched in all their sizes and I was desparate when I finally accepted that this year my boys would be sporting Walmart pajamas on Christmas Eve. After two trips to the store I despise, I gave up on finding Will's size and instead bought two pair of size 4-5.  Hence, the rolled up look he's wearing so well.

Matching pajamas are a must for the annual "Christmas Eve Tree Picture."  Matching pajamas and a lack of cooperation.

Lack of cooperation turns leads to a stern warning from their Daddy to "Stand up straight and smile.  Now!"

My little men in their little men matching pajamas from the local Walmart.  Priceless.

The sugar high from the cookies and the sheer anticipation of the jolly one left these three ridiculously hyper.  We wished Mr. Christmas a safe trip back to the North Pole and tried to get the boys to settle down.  They avoided sleep like champions and their eyes didn't close until well after eleven and it may have been the result of an elaborate story about "the time Santa tried to come to some little boys' house and found them awake and didn't come back."  I'm not sure if it was exhaustion or the fear of missing Santa that finally made them go to sleep, but if I had to bet I'd say the latter.  My boys...proving once again that fear goes a long way around here.