Merry Christmas! CHRISTMAS. Hanukkah and its drab blue complexion can suck a yule log, and Kwanzaa can strangle itself with a tartan plaid snowman’s scarf. Oh mercy me! I wasn’t supposed to let that kitty out of the plush cashmere jacquard Santa bag up front. But, now that I’ve weeded out the forsaken souls, let me welcome you dear Believers into my flocked everything, antler-heavy home. Oop, don’t trip over the faux fur plush polar bear rug from the Just Faux You collection and fall into the open fireplace like Decker did last night. Poor darling.
But enough about him, I’ve got some golden Darjeeling tea (packaged in giftable “Twas” tin) to spill. My home — oxidized mercury ornaments and all — was the backdrop for this year’s Pottery Barn Kids catalog! You can’t believe it, but also, you can because you appreciate the finer things in life, such as sitting down in a Belgian flax linen armchair with welted seams and thumbing through a catalog of saucer-eyed angels and holiday whimsy while your housekeeper, Asuncion, keeps the kids far away from you. Isn’t motherhood the most delightful thing?!
Now let us kick up our feet on this expertly-crafted, low VOC fawn rocker monogrammed with Bennett’s name, as you allow me to be your docent, walking you through the finer pages of the Pottery Barn Kids Holiday Catalog, and my blessed life.
Pardon me for starting off with a frown, but not so fast, Sloan. Your sass mouth, head lice, and weak immune system (which caused me to cancel our Tchaikovsky-themed photo shoot aboard the 500-foot S.S. Drosselmeyer) really put a damper on the year, so you will find that your stocking is purposefully smaller than everyone else’s. Could I have bought you the same-sized stocking as Charles, Daniel, Emma and Joseph? Yes. Did I? No. STOP TOUCHING YOUR FACE, YOUNG LADY. And maybe think twice about dragging your sweater on the bathroom floor and then sucking on the sleeve later.
You know what also works to get them dreaming of Santa? A little Glenfiddich 50-year-old malt whiskey in their egg-free egg nog. But more importantly, is there anything we can do about the poor dears whose bedding theme doesn’t change with the season? Imagine the nightmare of waking up in the same sheets every single morning, without Columbus Day, Veteran’s Day, Winter Solstice, or Good Friday bedding. The horror! My Reagan now expects new linens every fourteen hours, and if Asuncion doesn’t comply, Reagan will defecate in her own pillowcase. On a lighter note, this silly goose (me!) likes to walk by Brock while holding the “Ho Ho Ho” pillow and give a wink. Last time he responded by ripping the red Cardinal topper off the tree and booting it across the room into the roaring fireplace.
Oh yes, baby’s first Christmas — a time of magic, and also sleep deprivation and sobbing in the shower because Asuncion is on vacation. But at least when I scream into the laundry pile, I’m screaming into breathable sheets made from pure organic cotton. I cannot fathom putting my face that close to poisonous fabric like my niece, Kira, has to. My Christmas gift for my sister, Janice, this year is a chest x-ray for Kira, to see how much damage has already been done. Also, it should be noted that the tall Kenslington Collection lamp is quite suitable for a baby’s room. Holden has one in his nursery and even though he’s pulled it onto himself nearly every day and part of his skull was crushed in by the brass, this lamp really gives just the right pop of distinguished texture for a more masculine nursery.
When we adopted the twins, Peyton and Paytin, we didn’t know they would come with anger issues, so these shatterproof melamine dishes are a holiday lifesaver.
While yes, our house has so much extra square footage that we can fit an entire center island and refrigerator into a random room just to make the kids giggle for two minutes, I don’t quite understand the necessity of my children learning to cook. I mean, what would Asuncion do with her life if she wasn’t preparing tonight’s Beef Wellington with fresh truffles, shallots, thyme, peppercorns, and wilted winter greens she hand-picked (and planted and grew) from our very own garden? Perhaps Kira could use this kind of a practical gift, but certainly not my Tucker, Reese or Kendal. But I do appreciate the marble finish here. I truly do.
Well, everything in life isn’t made from melamine, so after continually finding our Luxe velvet stockings flushed down the toilet by the twins, it was time for Peyton and Paytin go back to their homeland. Of course I didn’t tell them that’s where they were going, but I did get each of them the most playful but sturdy luggage with easy-pull zippers to soften the blow. And yes, Paytin got Emma’s hand-me-down glittery clamshell roller, but don’t worry! I thoughtfully wrapped a Christmas gift for each of the twins (complete with a gorgeous satin bow they could trade for food along their journey) so they’d have something to open Christmas morning alone — matching ultra-soft flannel pajamas celebrating Santa’s disciplining of each reindeer before he takes flight. Practical, yet whimsical!
Asuncion, be a dear and get me a refresh on this Aperol Spritz in my gold-rimmed coupe “Naughty or Nice?” glass.