Did I not learn my lesson last year when I got Gingerbread Back? Did I not see the store shelves overflowing with gingerbread kits this year? Did I not heed my "To Do" list (which, for most of December said, "Bake and freeze gingerbread!")?
No, I did not.
Today there was baking. Frosting was beaten. Houses were constructed. Soon we'll get together with friends for the final step, which includes ridiculous amounts of candy.
The girls have been watching some movies. After Close Encounters of the Third Kind, Anne-with-an-e and Betsy decided that both Richard Dreyfuss and the aliens were cute. As they watched The Sting, they discovered why Robert Redford and Paul Newman were the gold standard of "handsome" in the 70's. Ramona watched Ramona and Beezus, over protest from the rest of us. Bleh.
We all (minus Atticus) saw Voyage of the Dawn Treader at the theater. Do I attempt a review here? I have so much to say about the Narnia movies and so little to say about them. I love the books dearly. The movies are not the books. Dawn Treader is not as horrible an adaptation as Prince Caspian was, but that isn't much of a recommendation, is it? For what it is, for what it attempted ... I enjoyed the movie. The special effects were fun and magical. I liked sharing the film with my daughters, whispering about what was and wasn't in the book, seeing Eustace's transformation. The general spirit of the book was intact, I think, but it's never quite enough, you know? There was so much more I wanted to see done well and right. Aslan should have scraped and clawed at those scales. The Dufflepuds should not have had bare feet. Those two things are not on a par with one another. But they both bugged me. And so on.
I'm picky. What can I say?
Among my gifts were some great new books and I hope to nab some serious reading time over these next few days of Christmas. I haven't had time to ignore my children yet, but it's on my to-do list, a la this old post called Blogging, Breaks and Mother Guilt.