Christmas in June

(Yes, I know it's July already, but I'm talking about yesterday.)

The job that's been keeping me crazy the last few weeks is still not done.

And with commitments outstanding, it certainly wouldn't do to be seen having fun. Or blogging.

I feel like a school-girl, avoiding the teacher, ducking out of class early, because she hasn't completed the assignment. Not that I'd know too much about that, but I know a little, having always thought: better perfect and a little late than just plain substandard. (Similarly, if it's worth doing at all, it's worth doing right, which makes so many tasks so overwhelmingly ominous, it's no wonder so few things around the house ever get started.) Of course, this philosophy has not served me particularly well, and it really shouldn't be encouraged among people who work in a deadline-driven industry.

Where was I? Ah, yes. Crazy.

Yesterday, Helena's daycare headed out to Santa's summer residence for the day. J-F and I had signed on board to accompany the hordes.

(To the annoyance of many women, Svelte Mommy strips down to a bikini moments after stepping into the grounds. It is a small consolation that Svelte Mommy goes home with Problem Child.)

I find the Christmas concept a little strange, but much fun was had by all the toddlers, particularly in the bouncy tent (we have got to find ourselves one of those in town).

Helena with daycare buddy Xavier.

Helena had been talking about Père Noel all day though, and it didn't seem right to have come all that way (maybe an hour out of town) and not pay him a visit. So we joined the line that trailed up to his cabin. As we neared the door, Helena admitted she didn't like Santa Claus — he scares her. Which is not an altogether unhealthy attitude for a two-year-old to take toward a big, smelly, overly friendly old man. We did have an audience with the guy, and he did his best to assuage her fears, Helena clinging to my neck the whole time. But she graciously accepted and genuinely appreciated the notebook he gave her, was polite, even friendly, with her "merci"s and "buh-bye"s.

We rounded out the day with ice cream cones around the corner from home. Helena decided she liked my strawberry cone better than her vanilla, and so a vast world of ice cream flavours has opened up to her that she is eager to explore.

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.