Until about lunchtime we didn't even know if we'd be opening presents today. It all depended on how my mother, who came home from Brigham & Women's late last night, was feeling.
She desperately wanted to be here when the kids had their tree. My stepfather desperately wanted Christmas dinner.
But between the pain and the medication therefore, her condition was not, as it turned out, such as to allow her to make the eight-mile trek to our house - or even to get out of bed until this evening. Around noon we decided (mutually) that the kids should go ahead with presents (the other options being, truck everything - spiral ham, steamed pudding, and gifts - to her house and hope she was well enough to function; postpone Christmas until such time she is feeling better; or some combination thereof).
We opted for Door #3. The four of us had our family gift exchange, made dinner, then packed up some food and went to my mother's house, where we made a plate for my stepfather (my mother being not so interested in eating just now), delivered presents, and visited for a bit - Mother being through some combination of willpower and pharmacological assistance able to sit downstairs. Then we came home for warmed-over ham and au gratin potatoes.
I have to hand it to my kids - they are troopers. Especially Thing One, who had no presents from his grandparents because the last three shopping days before Christmas were spent in the hospital.
We were all just glad to be together.
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