Things went from this:
A rare reflective moment:
Santa Claus bore gifts featuring a certain favourite spaceman:
My sister Leigh's daughter Billie is a gifted artist, at the ripe old age of seven. She continued to colour in long after the other cousins swung on swings and played in pools:
Tommy, Joe, and Max. Three rough-house stinky boys, all punching and rumbling:
Linda and Dave:
Linda, Leigh and my mum all gave me the best Christmas present I have received in years ..... I got to be a GUY on Christmas morning, and go with all the husbands out on the boat. While they all stayed behind and prepared the banquet of Kings.
I've had a tricky time, the past few months ..... bottles of wine have whispered to me. Beer has mocked me. I ignored them, of course ... but still. It's not something I wanted to admit, especially on my blog. So don't tell anyone. Staying sober can still be a weeny bit hard. I hate the feeling that I'm missing out. "I can create my own fun!" I keep telling myself. "I met Bono! I can do anything!" "Do more meetings!!"
So I did and I have and it's all ok, of course. My sobriety remains unbroken and I choose to continue on this path. But I just wanted a bit of fun ... some time out, instead of staying in the hot and sweaty kitchen being a slave. (Can't the boys cook, one year?)
I was given a day pass out. My brother, brothers-in-law, husband, and stepson all had a go before me. Twisting and turning on the wakeboard and kneeboard, jumping around off the boat in Gymea Bay. I was giddy with freedom - they were all, "This is so awesome! Let's go faster!" I was all, "This is so awesome! I don't have to cook."
Then it was my turn. I jumped into the water and screamed. "SHAAAAARRRRRRRRK!!!!!" There wasn't one, but it felt like there was. I nearly got out, but told myself to just get hardcore. So I did.
I kneeboarded my way around Gymea Bay, the token female screaming her way across the water, having the time of my life. Doing gangsigns, peace-outs, flipping over waves .... all in my undies because I forgot my swimmers.
Best sober Christmas time EVER.
I got home and gave my sisters and mother copious grateful kisses. They loved that I had a great time, then told me that Rocco had done a poo on the hardwood floor.
I was *so* glad I didn't have to clean it up.
Then we all ate a huge lunch and it was grand.
Then we went to Dave's family Christmas across town. Note to self: Do NOT do both of our families in one day ever again. Too much.
Now it is Boxing Day and everybody is cranky, over-tired, and exhausted.
Thank goodness Christmas only happens once a year.