Christmas is a magical time. This year it was a bit less magical on account of Jane's C. Diff. infection. We really gave it a valiant effort, but it took an extra 20 days of vancomycin into the new year to finally get rid of it for good. But, really, someone is always sick at Christmas. She tried her best and I have to admire her for it.
She even made the effort to decorate Jesus' birthday cake with her sister.
This is one of the strangest things I've ever seen. It kind of looks like a graveyard. Next year, we will not be decorating with peppermint bark chunks.
New pajamas were had.
Lights were seen.
And the wonder of Christmas morning came.
Jane tore through her presents while Scruffy looked on.
After Emily opened her sewing machine, she didn't have any patience for anything else. She started into sewing like she was getting paid to do it.
It was a lovely Christmas, despite the fact that we did not celebrate it in Hawaii, which is a unrealistic dream of mine. No matter where we celebrate, it is a wonderful time (but it would still have been slightly more wonderful in Hawaii.)
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