Before my parents and brother arrived for Christmas, we cleaned out the boys room really well. Went through their toys (again) and got rid of stuff that they don't really play with. I cleaned out clothes and organized shelves and made space for my parents to stay comfortably in there while they were staying with us. As comfortable as they could be on bunk beds, anyway. Seve actually ended up taking the top bunk and my dad slept on the bottom and my mom preferred her air mattress on the floor. But anyway. We cleaned. And then the kids (minus Cameron, who was off running errands with Dad) took advantage of the clean room and space and danced around and played ring around the rosy.
And now it's like almost two weeks later. Christmas has come and gone and my parents have come and gone as well. It's always kind of bitter sweet when Christmas finally and arrives and then is over. So much build up an anticipation and excitement and fun and then the day is over and you wish you could do it all again.
Except for that you're pretty exhausted and you have a mess of new Christmas stuff to find a place for and you're really exhausted and even more exhausted and you don't have the energy to even look at the house that needs to be put back in order. But it was glorious. And you kind of wish you could it it again. But then again, maybe a year break is okay, too.