Banishing Bah Humbug

I will be the first to admit that I have not been in the best of holiday spirits.  Our living room has been in disarray due to some home repairs, and the chaos depleted my desire to decorate:

Now imagine the smell of wet dog.  And think dust.  LOTS of dust.  That would be my living room.

 
With an inch of plaster stuck to everything, I personified the word testy.  Additionally, Joe is set to work at the firehouse Christmas Day, so I knew all kid-related preparations would be left to yours truly.  My Grump-O-Meter hit an all-time high, and little Joey was happy to share his latest drawing, one that he christened "Crabby Mommy":

For a kid who doesn't draw a lot, I think he captured my face quite well.

But then things began to change.

First, Daniel arrived home from school this Friday (the last school day before Christmas) with a few meager contraband items that I'm sure were not sanctioned by CPS.  He promptly turned over the best one to his unpleasant mother:

Then I picked up Jack.  Jack has been studying the artwork of Marc Chagall, and proudly gifted me with his own stylistic interpretation of the artist:

He did this all without a single Sharpie.

Then things got really crazy.

Lillian, blogger and artist extraordinaire, sent me a few of her beautiful magnets that are quite literally mini-works of art:



More of Lillian's offerings can be found HERE.

Next up, Julie (co-author and blogger from Mothers of Brothers Blog) showed a gracious penchant for forgiveness.  She has been the first-hand recipient of my month-long cantankerous state.  She surprised me with this:

Because I'm a Leo.  And I roar.

And who do you suppose provided the biggest laugh at the most opportune time?  Why that would be Andrea from Maybe It's Just Me.  Andrea and I share a sick love of potty humor.  We're kind of one that way:

I've been threatening to wear this out of the house if the boys don't behave.  It's been working better than Santa Claus.

And just when I thought there could not be a single thing more that could lift me out of my funk, there was a knock at the door.  It was our neighbor Elisabeth bearing the most perfect of liquid medicines:

There were also cookies, but I'm taking The Fifth on what happened to those.

As last night drew to a close, our disheveled living room finally took shape.  While the ladder and paint preparations still remain out, the dust and debris of plastering disappeared:

I even hung stockings.

So thank you, world.  Thank you for showing a cranky (and slightly PMS-y) mom the beauty of human kindness and generosity.  I am embarrassed to admit that I am not as thoughtful and most of my gifts come in $10-$50 denomination gift cards to Target and Starbucks.  I am a gift-giving failure.

Yet these folks?  They are the ones who just made sure my kids would not have to suffer through Ebeneezer Mommy for the next few days.  They are the Tiny Tims of the world, and I am delighted to know them.

So Merry Christmas and God bless us...everyone!