The Worst, Best Day Ever

Productive, horrific, and then finally fun. Those were the many phases of today.

To begin with, I actually got to cross a few things off of the never-ending list!
-change the air filter by balancing on my toes atop a step-ladder (I don't know why they put our filter in the ceiling - just a few more inches and I could get it in flat-footer, so much less dangerous!) CHECK!
-take pile of flattened cardboard boxes and used batteries to the recycling center CHECK!
-clean and rearrange living room to make way for the impending tree CHECK!
All of that made me feel quite cheerful and proud of myself.

Then I took the kids to a display of gazillion nativity scenes (plus one live one and lots of lovely musical numbers) at the stake center.
They had a wonderful scavenger hunt, where the children hunted for various nativities, all for one little piece of candy. So very bribable. The older kids all loved it, but James mainly loved running around, trying to touch things he wasn't supposed to and throwing himself on the floor, in tears, for no apparent reason.
SO...he cried while we looked at nativity scenes. He cried while the kids dressed up as shepherds, angels and Mary. He cried as Sofi painted a nice little craft. I finally gave up and left, hoping that he would fall asleep on our way to Target.

He did, and it was definitely a very good thing that he is a sound sleeper, because I think one more thing would have caused me to break down and make a horrible scene in public. (I can throw an even better fit than my children...but it isn't nearly as cute.) As it was, I was only a bit cranky as we made our way through evil holiday shopping, crowds, broken snow globes, long overdue new shoes for Anthony (I threatened to make them his Christmas present, if he wouldn't help me pick a pair) and trying to decide on the best potty-training seat for James.
As it was, I only broke down when the kids scattered in the parking lot, endangering various lives or simply hiding where I couldn't tell whether or not they were about to be run over. "HOW CAN I TAKE YOU TO A FESTIVAL IN TOWN, FULL OF HUGE CROWDS, WHEN I CAN'T EVEN GET YOU TO THE CAR SAFELY. WE ARE NEVER GOING ANYWHERE AGAIN! BUCKLE YOURSELVES IN BEFORE I REALLY GET MAD!"
I know yelling at your kids is bad, but four very repentant children quickly entered the car, buckled up and apologized for being suicidal little morons. (They didn't phrase it quite like that.) They were so contrite and swore so faithfully to stay at my side, if I would only take them to the Festival of Chimes and Bells in our lovely town of Port Orchard, that I decided to chance it. Everyone knew they were on probation. Maybe that would be enough incentive for good behavior?

Sometimes I'm glad that I'm a sucker and get talked into things that seem like horrible ideas on the surface, because, from this point on, it was the most wonderful evening ever.
We parked right up the (yes quite steep, but I need the exercise) hill from town hall, where the tree lighting and chimes from the clock tower where scheduled to happen at 6pm. We sipped free hot cocoa and watched the parade of costumed pets (our favorite was the bunny Santa) and listening to an Oom-pah band play our favorite Christmas carols. When there was a lull in the program, Sofia went up and offered to sing "Oh, Come All Ye Faithful" in Latin. They actually let her, and she sang a perfect unaccompanied "Adeste Fideles". I nearly cried. Huge tree lit, chimes played, and we made our way through the traffic-less street to the harbor.
Even our potty-stop at the library (where I stood with three other preggies in a huge line to use the MEN'S! room - ladie's was out of order) was awesome! While we waited to pee, they had a fiddle, guitar, and stand-up bass playing bluegrass Christmas songs. When we emerged from the yucky men's room, there were two librarians on harp and dulcimer, playing old English favorites. We checked out all of the pet books my littles had found during the wait (the kids are shopping for a new pet) and were off to see Santa!
We watched the huge fireworks display over the water while we waited in line to see Santa. We all oohed and aahed. James actually sat on Santas lap for the picture - amazing considering that he has no concept whatsoever of who Santa is!
Even waiting forever for the tractor-drawn hayride was pretty fun. We sipped more free cocoa (I'm amazed that they actually gave Sofia and Anthony 6 cups of cocoa!) We shared the candy stash from my purse with the teenagers behind us in line (who had been unjustly kicked off a hayride and sent to the end of the line for line-cutting!) Eventually, James began to lose hope of ever getting on the hayride. Every time a tractor came and went, he would cry and struggle to race to the front of the line until it drove out of sight. Luckily, we made it onto their very last trip (thrill of James' life and savior of mine!), which ended right down the hill from our car!
I couldn't have planned any of it better myself. What a wonderful evening. I love my town for giving it to us and my kids being their best selves the entire time. (Yes, sometimes a 2-year-old's best self still cries about tractors. By the end of the evening, I even thought that was adorable.)