Fake Snow and Spaghetti Slurping.

I am typing this with nine fingers, having lost at least the tip on of one in the name of valuable family cultural traditions- these had better be good damn lefse, Jayne- while catching up on work because the telework tag team effort is real....

But we are surviving. Barely. We have even managed to pull off "Polar Express" cocoa (revered family tradition, for obvious reasons) in Christmas jammies,

a very-2020 trip to see Santa (look out for lame Christmas gifts by way of framed photos of said event, everyone)

and some Christmas shopping.

Plus our usual jam, park hopping, even if the weather has turned unexpectedly traitorous.

But at least winter weather means snow. Theoretically. We trekked out to Wisp (and I played hooky) for opening day, and for the kids' ability to do this:

even if it was manmade snow, and 55 degrees out. Still, the tubing run was epic

the magic carpet ride was a predictably steep learning curve,

and hot cocoa was absolutely required by the "sub-arctic" (not-even-freezing) temps.

In other news, we also ate all the pizza on the MD/ WV border (Finley-Ford style, by which I mean half sausage, half pineapple...),

all the sausage casserole at Aunt Michelle's at brunch the next day (with a side of minecraft)

and Beat Navy!

And because that wasn't cause for celebration enough, Ford got promoted at swim school and demanded his dinner at Pistone's. I'm not even sure how this became a thing (I blame Grandma), but it's adorable. If not inexpensive. 

Finley told me she wanted lobster for her next promotion, and she had better become the next Katie Ledecky. 

Which is doubtful, but we're all reaching in the 2020 holiday season. Hope you're all well, finding joy, and maybe even slurping spaghetti noodles.