It's two-and-a-half weeks until Christmas, and I'm already feeling the holiday frazzle. I began helping Sheri decorate the VA just before Thanksgiving, and it has been non-stop holiday spirit ever since. I have learned to make bows, artistically re-worked garland, and discovered my inner decorator. I have been saddened by my own Charlie Brown Christmas tree and dreamed of next year's work of art. By then I should have a new tree and enough funding to make a statement. In spite of its bedraggled state, my tree manages to look quite happy when the lights are lit. It lives by lamplight and basks in the supportive glow of houses and Christmas accessories. I like feeling festive.

Our household is recycling germs at an alarming rate, and I'm prepared for my children to sustain sniffles throughout the season. David has been treated for ear infections twice since the first of November, and Emily is currently undergoing the same treatment. Johnathan and I are fighting the same communicable battles as the young fry, and I will be thankful when the weather finally settles into a groove.

My phone service changed this week, which means that I no longer have the mobile pictures of his first steam engine ride. To preserve the moment, I will write a detailed account now:

Ahem.

If Cumming, Georgia is proud of one thing, that one thing would be steam engines. The annual Fourth of July parade boasts an insane number of engines, and November 10th marked the sixth annual Steam, Antique Tractor, and Gas Engine Exposition at the Cumming Fairgrounds. This event had "David P. McGowan" written all over it. Unfortunately, the noisy steamers seemed to put him on edge. This was a complete reversal of his behavior in July, and I wonder if the cold medicine and earache played into his funk. He preferred to watch the engines from a safe distance, hands clamped firmly over his ears. It was a miracle that we coaxed him onto the tiny train running circles in the arena, but once he got on, he didn't want to get off. Chaos followed, and David spent the next thirty minutes acting exactly like a three-year-old. He bucked the idea of riding behind a steam engine, but Dad refused to let him pass up the opportunity. Dad and Johnathan hoisted David into the wagon and prepared for the ride. When David tried to escape to Mommy on the sidelines, I passed Emily to my Mom and hopped on with the guys. Having watched engine parades as a kid, I was fulfilling my own childhood dream as I climbed on board. David's last hope had joined the ranks. I suppose it sounds cruel, but we all knew that as soon as the wheels started turning, his amazement would override emotion. The steam whooshed, the wagon creaked, and we were on our way. The transformation on David's face was spectacular. He suddenly acquired a thoughtful expression that read, "Oh, I get it now." The tears stopped and he voiced his excitement while taking in the rest of the adventure. It was a fun day.