i don’t even know where to begin. oh wait, yes i do:

the only stockings that hung on the mantle this year were for the two chihuahuas.

• the stockings daniel and i have had for 20 and 26 Christmases, respectively, were in a plastic bag until i lay them on the bricks last night around 11:00 p.m.
• there are two other dogs who live in this house. and a cat.
• THEY ARE STOCKINGS AND STOCKING HOLDERS WITH PICTURES IN THEM. FOR CHIHUAHUAS.
• oh, and i also bought them. but that doesn’t excuse the lack of the CHILDREN’S stockings hung on the chimney at ALL, with or without care.
• i mean really.

also, the santa on the right is showing some leg and is hoping to get a little extra somethin’ somethin’ in his stocking this year.

and if that weren’t enough, our stockings were empty this morning.

this is our obligatory sibling photograph. i erected the wall of poinsettias between us so that i wouldn’t be tempted to attack my sibling when his behemoth pile of gifts began to infringe on my little dwarf stack. like it does every. single. year.

and this is the look i give him. and that is the shrug he gives. because he gets all the presents.

i’ll also take this moment to remind you that i am going without makeup currently. except saturday for a brief stint of cousin photographs. BRIEF. also, the moment i walk into this house since moving away from it almost six years ago, my head and lungs fill with snot and i cannot breathe without some kind of medicated-aeresol intervention. often. so that’s what i awakened to this morning—an inhaler in the small of my back and its cap perched on my shoulder. seems we became quite intimate sometime (several times, mmmhm) throughout the night.

and need i remind you of the topic of yesterday’s discussion? i need not. moving on.

the very first thing i did when i walked into the house yesterday was run to the basement door and meet ethel there. she was at the top of the stairs and i cannot even begin to tell you how excited both of us were. she stands just as tall as i am but she was jumping on her hind legs to give me more and more kisses all over my face and head. she was nearly climbing me with her front paws. i taught her when she was a puppy that she can only kiss me on the chin, but all bets were off yesterday afternoon and it was GLORIOUS.

my dog is surprisingly playful, surprisingly shy, surprisingly obedient, and surprisingly calm. she can be all of those things in rapid succession and to extremes. remind you of anyone?

i sat on the floor against the island in the kitchen and she fell into my lap and she sat there and sighed and i sighed. i took her puppy-soft ears and rubbed them against my cheek like i’ve always done and she turned and kissed me on the chin, like she’s always done when i do that. she yawned and i stuck my hand in her mouth and she didn’t care one bit. because i am obnoxious. and that is what i do. because i am her mama. and she is my baby.

i miss her so much.

25 december 2006.

25 december 2008.

this morning, mama and papa drove down from south carolina to spend Christmas day with us. i adore them. mom took this of me sitting on papa’s lap while we waited for everyone to get situated. it takes a long time for everyone to get situated. situated.

here’s the thing. i may or may not have gotten the wii and the wii fit this morning.

i totally did. and that is what face i made. (is anyone else reminded of a certain “cheese fries” incident?)

daniel received a new laptop. he claims it’s “for school.” i laugh at him. in his face. loudly.

the very evening before i came home, amy taught me to crochet hats and scarves. i gave the very first hat i ever crocheted to my baby brother. the one who towers over me. then i thought it was too long so i started unraveling it and it was very dramatic and then i had to crochet it ALL back up. but it only took about 10 minutes. or like maybe 30. i don’t know. not long. and then it was all better and now he has the very first hat i ever crocheted and it was intended just for him.

i also gave my mother the scarf i started for her (which i kind of ruined in the beginning but maybe it um gives it um character? um.) attached to the skein of yarn and my grandmother three skeins of red yarn so she could choose the correct shade. then she asked for a hat, too. and mama wants a scarf. and papa wants a usc hat.

there is actually a far-better-dressed table in the formal dining room through the way there, and I have a photograph of its gloriousness, but i’m kind of over it right now. imagine … gloriousness. in all its glory. and also cherubim. there are always cherubim when my mother is involved. (see self-portrait above. multiply by about 73. per room.)

we eventually got on with the day—i did shower, but changed from one set of pajamas into another—and partook of a wonderful meal and a wonderful time surrounded by family.

i think i’ll call this one: “dear home teachers, i think maybe we can skip this month. catch ya next year sometime … also, i have a giant rooster. amen. love, ashley.”

toward the end of the evening, we began the portion i’d like to call: “i am so glad i no longer own or am at all responsible for the well-being of that damn dog.”

my mother did take a photograph with her three children, though, so we’ll always have that. and also evidence that i have never, no not ever, worn makeup on Christmas morning. because i am always, yes always, sick on Christmas day. today was just a two-fer.

but a blessed one.

i do hope it has been a safe, healthy, and most of all, a very happy day for all of you—the entire internet.

merry Christmas.

i made it to atlanta safely, thank you for asking.

thank you also for asking about my lack of makeup and also for the dramatic and unnecessary pathetic yelp and ghastly stare. it’s just that i have been feeling like, oh i don’t know—shit—for the past, oh i don’t know—month. i spontaneously combust—or as lay people call it, vomit—on average, twice daily. the rest of the time, i pop ridiculously-expensive zofran like sweet little orally-dissolving candies and they act just like that and do nothing.

i act like nothing is wrong, but something is nearly always very, very, very wrong. and combust? yeah, that is just about right. it’s always right on the tip of my … esophagus. wrong.

general malaise? my ass. this is full-blown misery. and i don’t even get a baby at the end.

today i flew 2000 miles and 95% of the flight was spent with the fasten-seatbelt light on and 75% of that time with the flight attendants in their seats because the air was that rough. forgive me for not really desiring even a quick, quaint little meeting with clinique, smashbox, and philosophy at 30,000 feet.

besides that, though, i am incredibly blessed—more than i deserve. i’m in the habit of saying that these days, but i am aware of it more and more often. i receive blessings in such abundance and my cup runneth over to the point of absurdity sometimes. i am miserable yes, but i have a body that is surprisingly well and a family who loves me. i know of a Savior who lived, atoned, and rose for me and for all of us and i am increasingly mindful of Him this time of year and especially in recent months. the reason for the season, people.

in closing, that is why i am not wearing makeup. since you were staring. pick your scared little jaw up off the ground and move along now, please.

before that, though, please note that i kissed and smiled for you. because i love you. and then i threw up.

and merry Christmas.

my latest tweet reads:

i sank to the floor sobbing and 6-year-old eadie gwen silently wrapped herself around me, stroking my back. i couldn ‘t be more blessed.

and then meadow joined in and we had a wrapping-around-ash party. and i’ll tell you again: i couldn’t be more blessed if i tried. and i don’t deserve it. i know i don’t. if you knew me, you’d agree. but they did anyway. and i sobbed but more thankfully than sadly.