"Tis The Season Already?

Thanksgiving's over. So is November. That means the year's just about over. This decades pretty much over too. Time speeds by like a jet whizzing past us. Yep, time flies, and so do my in-laws, who took off for home after spending the extended weekend with us here in Florida. Looking back, their trip moved past like a rabbit through the grass. Luckily, I was able to take enough mental snapshots to compose a recap. And so, with my usual flair for music, here's my summary of the weekend. (To the festive tune of The Twelve Days of Christmas)

12 Pounds of turkey,
11 Football games,
10 Hours sleeping,
9 Rollee Pollies,
8 Tiger wins,
7 Wines a-sipping,
6 Micah sirens,
5 Stockings hung,
4 Missed steps,
3 Cracked ribs,
2 "Turtles" loved,
And a fake mini-Christmas tree.

The turkey and football should be self-explanatory. We ate (and much to the chagrin of the women) watched a lot. Malorie has begun bordering on sleeping through the night, hence the ten hours of sleeping. Mal also serves as the inspiration for nine, as she put on a show for Grandpa Bob and Grandma Judy by rolling over for them several times during the trip. Three generations of fans watched the Missouri Tigers football team rack up their eighth win of the season by besting hated rival Kansas in a Saturday matchup. It always feels good to "Screw KU," and now the Tigers will wait and see what Bowl game they'll play in this year. Rachel, her parents and I met our friends Pat, Kat and Erin at a wine tasting on Friday. Bob was most impressed with the Cabernet of the seven wines. Micah was impressed by Pat's mother, who was in town for the holiday and held him the entire time we sampled the wines. Micah also rings in at six with the number of times he cries per day, one at the beginning and one in the middle of each of his three naps. His adorable Beavis and Butthead "Huh-Huh-Huh" cry is now long gone, replaced by "The Siren," a cry that is loud, shrill, and goes, "WEEE-oooooh, WEEE-oooooh" for what seems like days at a time. During the break Rachel hung five stockings over the mantel and put up one Christmas tree next to it, thus beginning our first Christmas season as parents.

You may have noticed I skipped a few numbers. That is because song numbers four and three make a whole story unto themselves. Last Saturday, at Rachel's behest, her father agreed to hang our Christmas lights. As he was retrieving the box of lights from the attic, he missed a rung in the ladder and crashed to the garage floor, cracking three ribs. As if the fall and cracks weren't enough, Rachel and her mother then decided to try home remedies for Bob's pain. They gave him a painkiller - the one Rachel was prescribed to dull the pain of her recent Ceasarean Section. Instead of dulling the pain, the prescription medication had a reaction with Bob's blood pressure meds, causing nausea, light headedness and headaches. After a trip to urgent care, Bob's weekend was ruined, as he was forced to spend the rest of the trip recouperating on our couch. Fortunately he was well enough to travel home, where he is taking the week off of work to recover. Dad, we are thinking and praying for you each night, and hope you feel a lot better soon.

Finally, I saved the number two to ensure a happy ending to my post about time flying. Thirty years ago, Rachel and her sister Christine were babies like Micah and Malorie. Their parents, Bob and Judy, enjoyed the phase Rachel and I are currently experiencing, where the babies are beginning to lay on their stomachs and look aound. Bob nicknamed his girls "turtles," for the way their bald little heads would stretch up and peer around the room. The highlight of my weekend was watching Bob and Judy rekindle their love affair for "turtles" through my children. As much as I wonder and complain about where the time goes so quickly, I loved watching thirty years melt away from my mother and father-in-law as they played with Micah and Mal. Here's to hoping that this holiday season, time moves more like turtles than a rabbit or a jet.