I'm sure that the presents will be enjoyed, almost as much as the box that they arrived in.
Thank you for all the packing peanuts.
Packing peanuts are so much fun.
While we were opening the boxes, the neighbor boy came over and joined in the chaos. And yes. I made them clean up every. last. peanut.
The box was pretty much destroyed by the kids, but Joe-Henry is now using it, in it's flattened state as a ramp between our living room and dining room, sending his hotwheels into the box that Aunt Jill sent today.
My Dad, Herman Cyrus Christianson would have been 91 today.
Everyone called him "Cy". There were a select few though, who could get away with "Herman". I was nervy enough to try, and lucky enough to get away with it.
I am hanging on by a thread, people. I have two days left until Christmas break, and I'm hoping my sanity holds out that long. I've been fighting a cold and an ear infection, and trying to tie up loose ends for the holidays. Got the packages mailed, but not the cards; got the presents (mostly) but they aren't wrapped (mostly); the kids at school, God Bless 'Em Every One, are sending me over the fence into the Crazy Yard. and I just want to take a long nap.
And have sex.
And drink a beer.
The thing that is keeping me tethered to my life and honestly, still in a fairly elf-ish mood, is, of course, Joe-Henry. He hasn't needed to be reminded too many times about Santa, and as I watched him sleeping tonight, his gorgeous face so soft and sweet, I started to cry. He's so much older this year than last - his humor is more sophisticated (meaning knock knock jokes are BEGINNING TO MAKE SENSE, but he still thinks farts are hilarious), and his reasoning is clearer.
But he still believes in Santa. And it struck me today: what is the ratio of Santa is Magic to Santa is Watching? How often have I just listened and encouraged him to marvel at the nicest man in the world who brings every child a present on Christmas morning, and how often have I threatened him with "You know Santa's elves are looking RIGHT NOW, don't you?" Did I miss out? Did I blow it? Do I deserve a lump of coal?
I hope not.
I'm missing the sing-a-long at his school this Friday, and it is chewing a hole in my heart. He's being so sweet about it, and honestly I don't think it's a huge deal to him. But it is to me. I want to be there. Holding his hand and singing those songs, and storing away just a few moments more of the magic you have when you're seven and old enough to know better than to NOT believe in Santa.
If you're looking for an alternative to the standard Christmas fare, check out Mindy Smith's new Christmas cd "My Holiday". Love her voice, and "It Really Is A Wonderful Life" and most especially "Santa Will Find You" will make your hardened, cynical insides turn to mush. It did mine.
Well, that's just misleading. Sorry. It's not "just in". Today's post is about stuff I've heard over the past three weeks that have just been percolating away in my brain. I try hard not to be a reactionary. I try my best to process things, and reason them out in my head, but what usually happens is that they don't percolate, they just ferment and fester until I'm really worked up. Well, it's been a rough week, and so now, here you go, I'm letting it all out.
I'm sure you're all aware of the story that came out about a month ago regarding John McCain's tacit approval of someone calling Hillary a bitch? If you were sleeping, or perhaps at Disneyland and unaware of National Events, take a peek...
Of course, McCain has gotten little coverage in the past couple weeks, thanks in part to the fact that Mitt Romney is now talking about the fact that he's a Morman, and Mike Huckabee's stellar showing in the polls, despite the fact that he thinks women should be subservient to men. Here's the deal for me, and honestly, I mean no offense to any of my five readers, but how in the world is it possible to truly believe that we women should follow men blindly, even if they are wrong? How is it possible to believe that anyone else has a right to tell you what to do with your body, or to deny you the right to equal wages for equal work? It may come as a surprise to some, but we women not only have the right to vote, which means we don't just have to influence the men in our lives about the candidate we believe is best, we can vote for him OR HER ourselves. Honestly, please tell me. I want to know.
But the thing that is really sticking in my craw is this: It's all a show. There are no solutions - the national debate has become about religion and "moral character" - who has it and who doesn't, instead of how to get this country back on track. Don't get me wrong - I do believe that "moral character" is important, but I don't personally believe that it has anything to do with religion. I think it has to do with action - How we treat others, how we solve problems, how we listen and learn.
My Dad, who never went to college, had some excellent advice for me when I was dating. I've applied to it many different areas of my life. He said "It doesn't really matter what they say. It's what they do."
Can you imagine what would happen if we all started paying closer attention to voting records instead of sound bites and town hall meetings and speeches? If we were truly informed, and they knew it? If we held them accountable for their actions, instead of just complaining about their lousy performance? If we based our votes on what they did instead of what they said?
Tonight we had something at my school called "Father Christmas". It's a night where the whole school is used - they have room for Christmas crafts, games, a visit with Santa, and shopping in the gym. They take donations the week before, and set up tables - two 25 cent tables, a 50 cent table and a $2.00 table. Only the kids are allowed in, they are given a personal shopper and they can choose 4 gifts to buy for family or friends, or themselves. Then they go into the cafeteria to purchase their items, and have them wrapped so no one knows what they got. The school I work at has such an amazing supportive community, and it was such fun to be part of it - it really put me in the spirit.
I was a "personal shopper" and Joe-Henry was my elf. He was a little disappointed that he didn't get to shop, but I think it put him in the mood, too. He would point out things that he thought might be fun for brothers or sisters, and the kids loved having another kid to relate to.
When we got home tonight, we were both pretty tired, but at bedtime I told him I was excited about the presents I'd gotten him, and he asked me what it was. "Do you really want to know?" I asked, my eyes wide with sincerity? He nodded, afraid to say anything that might jinx his good luck. "Come here, I'll whisper it in your ear". He snuggled up, his ear to my mouth, and I whispered "I'm not telling". "Oh MAN, Mom! Just tell me where you got it then!" "Okay, lean in close...." I can't believe he's falling for it again, but it's so fun to torture children at Christmas! "I got it at the store" I whisper, and he collapses in a fit of groans and giggles.
Christmas IS for kids. But I'm learning that it's pretty fun for those of us who are lucky enough to hang with them too.
