December 25, 2007

When it comes down to it

..I’m totally traditional. Shhhhhhhhhhhh don’t tell anyone, it will totally ruin my street cred.

I’m sitting here after having feasted this Christmas, wine in hand, reflecting on what a total, traditional, happy homemaker I am.

Every year we have kielbasa from Detroit because that is just what you do on Christmas Eve.

I actually buy “Santa” paper just like my mother did before me, so all the Santa gifts have their own distinct Santa face.

We open stockings first, until adults are alive and the coffee is at least dripping.

After the chaos, left-over kielbasa and eggs for breakfast.

(mentally noting it’s always about the food)

None of these may seems like really big deals, but to me…they are HUGE. I can’t decide if that is WEIRD or completely against my nature. I mean, I’m the one who left my hometown. I was always weird. I was always the one who never fit in and always wanted OUT.

Yet I’m the one who gave both my children family names and continue traditions that have been practiced since I was born.

I don’t get it.

I mean, I spend a lot of time fighting against conforming. Well, I do and I don’t. It’s just that I was lucky. I had a warm and fuzzy and happy childhood and I want my kids to have the same.

I was never an angsty non-conformist. I was a happy non-conformist.  I always did things differently and I was lucky to have parents that told me “that’s great!” In fact, I distinctly remember trying to come up with one single word to describe me for my Confirmation in 8th grade and my Dad telling me to write “Independent.”

So when I find myself screaming and yelling about politics or parenting or anything in between, it feels very natural. When I find myself DEMANDING we ship kielbasa from Detroit to Los Angeles, regardless of cost, I scratch my head a bit.

Of course this is just one part of my life. There are many other parts that would probably melt your brain they are so very NON traditional. Yet the constants…the things that never change, are as traditional as they come.

I’m embracing it, that’s for sure. As I get older I’m taking more and more pleasure in sharing those warm fuzzies with my own children. With settling into this life with a sprinkle of my mother and her mother and my grandmother’s ways in my kitchen and my home and my mind.

Maybe that’s how we all do it…take the good and rant against the bad. This Christmas I’m thankful the good I keep is in my home and in my heart. The bad I scream and yell and fight about almost always is on tv or in a newspaper or somewhere ‘else’ out there in the big wide world.

“Independent” still fits though, even if I’m currently freezing kielbasa and doing dishes.

December 23, 2007

2 Days Until Christmas, in case you didn’t know

2 days until Christmas! 2 days until Christmas! 2 days until Christmas! 2 days until Christmas! 2 days until Christmas! 2 days until Christmas! 2 days until Christmas! 2 days until Christmas! 2 days until Christmas! 2 days until Christmas! 2 days until Christmas! 2 days until Christmas! 2 days until Christmas! 2 days until Christmas! 2 days until Christmas! 2 days until Christmas! 2 days until Christmas! 2 days until Christmas! 2 days until Christmas! 2 days until Christmas! 2 days until Christmas! 2 days until Christmas!!!!!

I’ve heard that about 50 times and we just woke up about 4 minutes ago.

I love having children in the throws of the “Santa ages” of childhood but HolyMaryMotherofGAWD I’m pretty sure my son’s head is going to EXPLODE before he’ll ever wake up Tuesday morning.

He’s obsessed. He’s also truly, and honestly, to his toes worried Santa won’t bring him something because he’s been bad.Yeah, cue the “awwwwwwwwww.” I mean, I only torture him like any other good American parent would. “Santa is watching, don’t you dare hit your sister.” “Santa heard that lie Count Waffles and I’m pretty sure you’re on the naughty list.”

With panic in his eyes before bed last night he actually asked me if *I* thought he had been good enough to warrant a gift from St. Nick. “Oh honey, I’m sure you’re just fine…don’t worry,” I said immediately regretting it if only for the pure leverage it’s given me these past few weeks.

Terrible, I know. He’s 4.5 though, he’s in trouble all the damn time.

When I was a kid we had the house on Christmas morning where everyone was up before dawn and my parents made us lay there awake and wait for the sun. It was unlike any torture known to man. I would call it worse than waterboaring.

My brother and I would be in our beds, flat on our backs, with eyes as wide as saucers and stare at the ceiling until my Mom or Dad would say, “Ok.” We’d throw our blankets off and race downstairs as fast as our tiny feet could go.

It’s 2 days before Christmas and my son is awake a good 2 hours earlier than usual bouncing off the walls. It’s like he’s had 6 cups of coffee. Like he’s got Santa fever and the only cure is more jingle bells.

He’s an addict and I don’t think any of us are sleeping until he crashes in a pile of unwrapped presents in about 48 hours.

I think the excitement and joy of this age is one thing, the sheer insanity and uberhyper activity was something entirely lost on my parent brain until about a week ago when he began to twitch.

I guess many of you may lecture me about hyping this holiday and it being all about toys and gifts and gimme gimme gimme. In all fairness, you’re an idiot. I haven’t done anything more or less than most parents do this time of year and we’ve had plenty of talks about giving and kindness and gifts not being important.

That being said he’s just shy of 5-years old and the boy believes. He believes some magic, white-bearded guy is bringing him toys. The holy grail of childhood. For one day a year he gets to have a candy and cookie laced toy-fest and the only thing stopping him is his ability to whack his sister on the head with a balloon and piss off Mom with his lazy cleaning skills. He believes, and it’s freaking magic people. It’s that warm, fuzzy magic that only comes when you’re a kid and Santa is coming. The entirely pure and innocent joy.

As a parent I’ve actually thought long and hard about this whole thing (why yes, as a matter of fact, I do think long and hard about my parenting decisions) and I’m totally fine with it. There are only so many years of Santa belief and I don’t really give a damn if that makes you think I’m spoiling my child or teaching him the wrong lesson. There are only so many years of pure magic on Christmas morning when you wake to find gifts have just appeared under your tree. There are only so many years when you can’t sleep from excitement and wait and wonder with hope and some panic if that one special thing is waiting there for you on that one special morning.

It will all be gone faster than a blink and he and I are going to enjoy every insomniac moment of it, dammit.

In fact, I’m letting him have Christmas cookies for breakfast while we wrap gifts. Then, with any luck, he’ll crash from the sugar high and I can get some sleep.

November 24, 2007

Holiday Card Envy Part III

It’s not like I care…but…my daughter has an entirely chapped face and my son has a big bump and scratch under his eye.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, it’s Holiday Card Time! Remember last year? And the year before?

This year is no exception. I’m not sure how to stop the licking of the lips so much that it appears the 2-year old suction cupped a red plate around her face, or how to wrap the boy in foam so he doesn’t maim himself.

Doesn’t matter. Cards are ordered and once again they are far from perfect. Our lives are far from perfect. Our home is far from perfect. They are kids. Kids are messy. Hell, I am messy. Our lives are messy. Messier than usual, and that’s saying something.

Now I need to figure out how to sign them. The Royal Family? Count, Princess, Queen, Kaiser, & um…hmmmm. Maybe I’ll just say “Happy Holidays, these are the messy kids we created” and leave it at that. I mean, I can only take up so many lines on the one page card. I don’t think “Happy Holidays (non denominational seems safe) these are the kids as they are this year. Sorry, but I wasn’t there to comb their hair when this was taken, because I was off working, but I think their Dad did a good job…oh, and speaking of him…yeah, lots going on there…oh and me? Yeah, lots going on their too. But as you can see our kids are happy and healthy and totally messy so enjoy the photo and Happy Holidays.”

December 25, 2006

Xmas Swag

I love it when my man listens.

…and then I made the mistake of asking my dear, wonderful, superb gift-giving husband if he had any gifts to show the blogosphere:

And yeah, the kids got some crap too. Too much. Including that fucking Elmo I swore I wouldn’t buy.

All of that said, I’m not sure there is anything better than watching your own children  wake up on Christmas morning and react to Santa’s bounty. Seriously. NOTHING. BETTER.

MERRY HOLIDAYS AND A HAPPY HO HO!