Christmas Eve ramblings, the Insomniac Edition

Well hello there. Dawn has not broken yet my brain just might be for I cannot sleep. This happens with some regularity; three a.m. rolls around and some switch in my brain gets flipped on and my mind races, typically with PLANS for the day or alternately, I think of zombies and Stephen King movies and run-on sentences.

(It's foggy here. I'm shutting the blinds.)

And because it is Christmas Eve, aka my Mom's birthday in these parts, my to-do list coupled with a sinus headache made the coaxing back to sleep thing impossible.

So here I am, packaging rum cakes and sharing my incoherent thoughts with you, dear reader.

I like the new Monica Gellar show. I find it funny. Don't judge

I am still searching for the perfect rum cake pan. I will know it when I see it.

I miss last year's snow. I just do.

I inherited my Mom's making-crafts-until-the-last-minute-for-Christmas gene. It makes me feel mentally ill and yet, I can't stop myself.

I am brewing up a Deep Moments with Stuart Smalley sort of post about forgiveness, which sounds meek & mild, and baby Jesus worthy but I am not there yet.

Speaking of not being there yet: We are church-less these days. We've been invited to several Christmas Eve services today. I don't feel ready. I feel broken.

I am thankful for my family, and my smart girls, and my sweet and exhausting dogs. The quiet, where there will soon be frenzy; the promise of a new year.

And maybe a nap later today.

I still believe in Christmas miracles.

(Merry Christmas! ox)