We had some time with J in the morning, and then friends came over and I made leg of lamb, shiitake mushroom rice pilaf, and a second attempt at Yorkshire pudding that came out pretty perfect, thanks to a conversation with Mom.
The friends brought Southern-fried greens, artisanal gin (the Botanivore), and an 8-year old girl, and all around it was a lovely afternoon.
One new revelation about family life is that Christmas is no longer a time of rest. Sure, I used to cook and buy presents and go to parties before, but now there's someone else's parties to go to, plus we've had J all week, and while it's nice to spend time with him (mostly), it means less time alone. Plus I'm busy at work trying to be prepared for the coming transition. It was a nice quiet couple of weeks in early December, there, but oh, that bird has flown.
(J has further promoted me, by the way: he was sort of emo the other day and I stuffed him in his room, whereupon he screamed "YOU'RE THE WORST DAD, I MEAN STEPDAD, EVER AND I HATE YOU." It's touching to be so internalized! You know he likes you if he feels free to call you names. We knew he'd connected with Mom when he called her "Mrs. Shouts-A-Lot" after she badgered him to move so a piece of sailboat didn't bash him in the head.)
I hope your holiday has been peaceful and spent however you wanted. Here, have some baroque music.
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