The Star--Tarnished

Yes we visited the Mesa temple and the decorations were amazing! It is wondrous to see palm trees and citrus trees decorated for Christmas.

However, please take a gander at the faces of Grandpa Rick and the boys. Pure shell shock and meltdown...

We went after church and probably were a bit tired. We stopped to eat, but it just didn't quite do it. Fruit punch was spilled, fries were squished into carpet, and Blakers ran out of his drink. So when we arrived at the CROWDED destination (evidently everyone thought Sunday before Christmas as a good time to go also) all hell broke loose at the festivities.

 Blake (who's ADHD and then some) was kicking and screaming. Rooster had been asleep so he woke up super grumpy and wanted to stay in the car. He swung on grandma when she tried to take his hand to cross the busy road. Thousands of merry-makers jostled and pushed.

Right in the midst of this merriment, when I was pinching Blake's shoulder with all the reserve I had to keep from inflicting major bodily harm, one couple went by and said, "Maybe he's lost."

"No, he's not lost!" I snapped. "But I need to get away from him before I kill him." (Please note that this is exaggeration--sort of.)

"Are you the grandma?" The lady whispered.

"Yep. That would be me." I muttered. "I'm sorry, but he's been a mess since we got here."

"Oh, I understand," she commiserated. "I spanked my grandson at church the other day and then had to apologize."

 Yes, I must admit I regret my ungrandmotherly-like behavior, but in the height of battle I was thinking I was fairly restrained.

 "Murder at Mesa Temple" might not have been a good holiday headline.

So the grand kids are back in Las Vegas. The kitchen is cleaned, I think. Mountains of laundry have been washed, folded, and put away. The guest room sheets are washed and in a pile on the bed--not made yet. I need to finish the mop up today. There was a terrible ache in my stomach and heart yesterday when they left. However, I must admit that being able to get to sleep early, get up to my "normal" routine, and not have tiny toy cars littering the living room floor ain't all that bad.

I saw in the paper this morning where "catalog Christmas" isn't real. No sh*@! (Which I may or may not have been heard to shout on Mesa temple grounds. Most likely I'll never make it to heaven anyway.)

Note Grandpa Rick and the boys' expressions. I am smiling but you can't hear my teeth grinding. Rachel is obviously on some seriously good medication that she isn't sharing.