I last 30 or mayyyyybe 40 seconds before falling soundly asleep and then don't get out of bed until the alarm goes off the next morning. Of course, this means I spend the whole night sleeping in my work clothes, but I prefer to consider the glass half full, and think of this as being already dressed for the next day. It's really too bad I don't wear cosmetics because then I could wake up with a face all smeary and think of myself as pre-mascara'ed for the next day as well.
The result of all this beauty rest is that even though Baby W is a frequent waker, I manage to wring 8 good hours of sleep out of the 11 hours I spend in bed. However, all that time in bed means that very little else around here gets accomplished, including luxuries such as basic hygiene. Humans aren't meant to shower in the winter, right? I mean, hunter-gathers didn't have much in the way of heated hot water in frigid months so I imagine they were content to stay dirty. Instead of following a Paleo diet, I'm going to start a new trend by following Paleo hygiene.
Anyway, one thing that I HAVE managed to accomplish recently was to get a Christmas tree. I accomplished this by telling David to take the kids and go get a tree. Delegation: how did I ever live without it?
Our family takes an urban approach to getting a Christmas tree. Rather than going out in the woods and chopping down a tree ourselves, we head to a nearby parking lot and buy a tree from a vendor selling a variety of stumpy pines. Last year, I even managed to take both kids to pick out a tree and then dragged the tree home behind us on a sled. This year, though, we have had only minimal snow, probably because God is punishing me for eating all the Thin Mints without letting the rest of my family know we even had any in the house. So we had to use the car to get the tree.
Stella decorated our tree, and hung as many ornaments as possible out of the reach of Baby W. We call this the Occupy Christmas Tree, because the top 1% of the tree is hogging way more than its fair share of the ornaments.
The next thing you know, the lower boughs of our Christmas tree will declare themselves the 99%, and then we will start hearing backlash about how those boughs are basically dirty hippies who need to suck it up and deal with the unpleasant realities of life. While I don't agree with those news stories at all, it's true that the "We Are The 99%" branches probably DO need to take a shower -- unless they're following the new Paleo Hygiene regimen, in which case it all makes perfect sense.