Christmas Time's A'Comin'

This was the first take.
Things went downhill from there.
Deacon kept looking to his right to make sure that everyone else was looking at the camera.  Kyle never smiled again for real, and eventually just wanted to eat his candy cane bribe.  Poor Sean was vehement that it was really nap time, and further more proved that squinty eyes were the best he had to offer.  However, Bryce smiled 'til his face fell off. I'm cloning Bryce.

Oh anticipation!  Presents are piling up under the tree.  I had vowed to wait until Christmas Eve to place them under O Tannenbaum, but cheery Bryce today asked in the patientest, most happy voice when we could put presents out. I just had to give in.  The reason I had wanted to wait, was so that we wouldn't end up having tell Kyle no over man-handing gifts. But it turns out that replacing the batteries in his rescue ambulance truck with the loud as a firecracker siren system did the trick.  Major distraction for the three year old: check!

Back to the photo: Deacon was in the seventh Heaven over Sean's get up.  Please note: the shirt is courtesy of Bethany, who gave that "Little Brother" camo onsie to me pretty much the second we knew Sean was a he-baby. And those pants are from Amy and her mom, Libby.  I want it in print that people buy camo for us . . . (although if you look at Deacon's outfit, well, we picked all that out ourselves, so you know people know what suits a McMurray).

So speaking of picking things out.  Those two chairs in the background were my Grandma Jeanne's.  She inherited them from her mother, Helen, and recovered them, though bits of the lurid sixties orangey-pinky-yellow Helen esteemed peek underneath.  I'm sure this fabric was a remnant from the same bolt used to make Goldie Hawn's Laugh In get-ups.  It's lurid I tell you!  Which is funny since Grandma Jeanne covered them with a subdued Japanese Wedgewood-esque fabric.  I've totally rabbit-trailed.  Back to the picking.  I've been thinking for quite some time that I'd like to recover the chairs myself (which means I'd like to pay someone else to recover them). Mostly, I've pretty much fixated on a linen velvet in a burlap color (oh the romance).  But today, I thought-- AND I KID YOU NOT, "What if I asked Kelsey if there are any designer camo fabrics out there?"

Are you thoroughly horrified?!?!

Once I was done reeling from my temporary fit of insanity, I almost fainted.
Now, if I go insane again, but Kelsey refuses to find that shi-shi-pooh-pooh camo damask that some wealthy lady hunter commissioned for her den, I could always fashion some slip covers with safety pins from that leftover dinosaur camo-look fleece lurking in my hall closet.