Not sleeping

The second snowman ever to glide into the collection, long before I realized there was an illness associated with the little buggers. This is an old 'Hallmark' ornament from 1997. When I bought him I was just impressed with the clever way he opens at the waist, revealing a super-secret compartment. He's a tiny porcelain box.

One of my secret holiday fantasies is that I'll find a whomping pair of diamond ear studs inside him on Christmas morning. I always check on the sly, in case Herr Becher has a sudden bout of telepathy about gift giving. The kids noticed me peeking two years ago. Last year I found a note, no bigger than a postage stamp, tucked inside, that said 'we love you mom' with all their names and the year. I was crushed that this year it was gone. Someone mentioned in passing that they thought Eli ate it the day we packed up the ornaments. Oh, well...

Last night at the theater, as we prepared ourselves to step into the bracing cold, Melly saw a woman in a hodge-podge scarf and asked what the story was behind it. As knitters, we all know these things do not just happen on their own, right? It turns out a friend of hers lost her son recently, and the swatch scarf was knit to keep hands busy during the initial grieving process.

It makes me ache, but I'm so glad Melly thought to ask about it.

Well, time to chase the kids out of the bathroom and carve out some alone time with my blow-dryer, then it's off to the shop, with a grand total of 3.5 hours of sleep under my belt (and under my eyes). The Xanax seems to be losing it's touch, though I suspect the caffeinated sodas from last night were more to blame. Be well, and stay warm. C