One Fake Tree Reports to the Living Room

My parents tempted us into town Saturday night with the promise of a family dinner and a few hours of babysitting. The Hub and I spent some time alone, went out to have drinks at the place we met, thinking that we'd be back to my parents' house in time to scoop up The Babe and have him in his own bed by ten. When we returned, my father administered many, many festive and frothy beverages to the two of us, and an invitation to spend the night was extended.

Good thing we brought the kid's pajamas. Sadly, though, he did wear the same clothes two days in a row.

This afternoon, while The Babe demande all of my sister's attention, The Hub and I did our ornament shopping. Yup, another trip to Targ3t, in search of the 76 piece "unbreakable" ornament set, and maybe some more Tord Boontje stuff. Freakin' jackpot, internets. I heart this serving platter. The only thing we're on the lookout for now is a tree topper.

Friday, my sister came out to pick out fabrics for aprons to give to her friends for Christmas. While I waited for her to figure out the bias binding tool, I made three of these stockings to hang from our mantle. The Hub and I had matching stockings, but I figured the three of us need similar-looking ones. Yah, the Christmas colors in the house are blue and white this year. I haven't decided if I'm going to monogram the stockings or decorate them any further, I'm just going to spend a few more days looking at them.

I'm still in love with the bibs I made out of quilting cotton, washcloths, and ribbon. Super-absorbant, and once he's done eating, I wet the bib and use them to wipe off his face and hands (and pants, from time to time), then wipe down the table, too.

My in-laws left for home on Friday, too. Their monthlong visit was very tense this year. When we told them we were working on adopting from foster care, they had somewhat of a hissyfit, with most of it directed at me, the batshit crazy girl bent on ruining their only son's life.

My mother-in-law and I had a chat a few days after The Babe moved in, and the things that she said confirmed everything I'd been hoping was a product of my hyperactive imagination. That it was her attempt at making peace frustrated me further. According to The Hub, she knew as she was speaking that every sentence was coming out wrong, and she wanted to try again. Considering the fact that the first conversation included her mentioning she'd once overheard me talking dirty to The Hub during sex, I wasn't inclined to rehash a damn thing with her during this last week.

I'm still very hurt by them right now. Over the next few months, if their attitude toward The Babe improves, I'll get over it. Meanwhile, these wooden ornaments from Germany make me happy. They won't be going on the tree, since they're not made of plastic and labeled "unbreakable," but I'll be looking at them nonetheless, and maybe they'll sate my sad little soul.