Breaking Tradition

I don't like to be so wound up in traditions that the universe will become totally unbalanced if life throws me a curve ball and plans are altered. I like traditions. I like familiarity, and I like knowing what to expect. In the pre-Christmas hoopla this year, though, we've done a few things differently...well, we've not done them at all.

Each year, for as long as I can remember, we've gone to see the bank choir sing Christmas carols downtown. It was the Texas Commerce Bank choir, then something else I think, and since the last corporate merger, it has been the Chase Bank Choir. Their music is magical. It will fill the achiest heart with pounding delight. I loved watching and listening to them as a child, and I think I love it even more now that I am a grown up! We usually don't call it a day until we've dined at Treebeards at the Church downtown for lunch. Chili, no onions, but yes on the cheese and rice...and bread...and a peanut butter cookie with a Hershey kiss topper. I do like familiarity.

This year, no choir. No chili. No cookie.

My mom says that this has been going on since I was in a baby buggy, but I am not sure when exactly it began. My dad and I shop, every Christmas Eve, together. We've bought my mom countless nightgowns (it's quite hilarious when store workers see my father and I perusing the nightclothes), a crystal lamp (that was a good one, but we crisscrossed town so many times that we both got in trouble when we got home so late), various things from Specs, and complete outfits from Talbots, Chicos, and other establishments. We used to have lunch at the Chinese restaurant in the Galleria until it closed. We moved to the LaMadeleine for a few years, sushi one year, I think, and then the crepe place last year. We'd sum up the goings-on from the year that would soon be coming to a close. Mom would USUALLY return all of her gifts. Even in the hustle and bustle of our marathon trips home when we lived in Lubbock, we'd block off the time and go together.

This year, we didn't. Work was overly hectic for dad, and as it turned out, Michael was running a fever. Life stepped in our way. It was just as well, though. Neither one of us would have enjoyed it much this year--he being burdened by client catastrophes, and me being worried about my baby. I guess this will be the year that wasn't. I can't say that I am angry or upset with my dad because I am not. I am sad that life did find a way to stomp on both of our plans, but it would ruin the spirit of the trip's meaning if I were angry.

This evening, we all crossed paths at Nathan's school/church for his second performance as a Wise Man. He yawned a lot up there, but he was the cutest wise man I've ever known. I am glad that all of his grandparents were able to come and cheer him on. That was great.

So, as of thirty seconds ago, all of my ducklings are tucked into bed. We've learned to downplay Santa's coming on Christmas Eve because Nathan got REALLY worked up one year and the more we tried to get him to sleep, the more stressed out and worried he became. It was when he was really little, and we had never before (in his memory) let some stranger into our home in the middle of the night. How could we be so trusting?

Soon the Christmas lights will come down, and the ornaments will be packed up for another 11 month hybernation in the attic. My boys make this time of the year just MAGIC! It is such a gift to just have each other happy and healthy, and together. I know there are so many people whose holidays are less than perfect. People struggle with loss, they struggle with burdens, they struggle with pain. I hope they may find peace and a glimmer of hope tonight.

Merry Christmas.

"Getting To Know You" Christmas Edition

1. Wrapping paper or gift bags?
Wrapping paper. I love to make bows, too, but never do for some reason.
2. Real tree or Artificial?
Artificial. No pesky little pine needles, and I can modify and fluff the stems, branches (whatever they are) as needed.
3. When do you put up the tree?
We put it up over the weekend before Thanksgiving this year. I think early-decorators are a little wound up and bizarre, but I chocked it up to having youngsters around and wanting to savor the special little things.
4. When do you take the tree down?
Shortly after Christmas. I don't want to mess with the clutter RIGHT before starting back to school.
5. Do you like eggnog?
Yes--especially at Nick's old boss's company Christmas parties at his incredible home. Some memories just stick. Wassail and cocoa are warm and cozy and yummy. Tonight, not so much. I think it's like 80 degrees outside.
6. Favorite gift received as a child?
I guess it would be dolls or a bicycle with streamers on the handles, and a basket for the front. (I guess that was for Toto. I'm not sure what I ever did with the basket, but it was COOL!)
7. Hardest person to buy for?
Our parents.
8. Easiest person to buy for?
The boys. At least Nathan knows exactly what he "wants." Commercials start conditioning the 2 to 12 year olds aaaaabout January 15 for the next Christmas. It's sort of like elections. I believe I am hearing about somebody jumping into a race that is...maybe...two years from now? Seriously?
9. Do you have a nativity scene?
An incomplete set. The same old boss would give a Waterford nativity piece each year to Nick. We have Mary, Joseph, Baby Jesus, annnnd...let me go see...a donkey. I thought about starting a willow tree nativity collection, but I'd rather wait and add to this set later. Not now. They're expensive, but oh so beautiful.
10. Mail or email Christmas cards?
Mail. This was our first year for photocards. I always put photos IN the cards, but this year we graduated to the others. I'm not sure which one I like better.
11.Worst Christmas gift you ever received?
Oooh, being in town in Houston and at the hospital two days after Christmas. THAT was the start to a rough year.
12. Favorite Christmas Movie?
The Santa Claus movie where, I think, Martin Short was an elf.
Miracle on 34th Street is pretty good too.
13. When do you start shopping for Christmas?
Probably October. But I am a HUGE procrastinator. I'll THINK and THINK about gifts, but won't settle upon something right away.
14. Have you ever recycled a Christmas present?
I don't think I have.
15. Favorite thing to eat at Christmas?
Wassail and homemade cranberry bread.
16. Favorite Christmas song?
Oh Holy Night, Silver Bells--the downtown bank choir and Christmas Eve church choirs never disappoint me. I love the familiarity of the songs and the power of the voices coming together.
17. Travel at Christmas or stay home?
Stay home. We paid our dues. We would truck it from Lubbock each year (often missing the GOOD snow), complete with dogs, a baby, and a BIG SUV crammed with baby gear. Oh, it was a exhausting marathon. It wasn't restful, but it was worth it to see family and be together. I am so fortunate that my babies can wake up in their own houses on Christmas morning. That is priceless.
18. Missed this question. So say anything that comes to mind..........................
Nathan will be a wise man tomorrow in the kindergarten Christmas program...at 8:00AM...on the last day of school before the holiday...and I have to work. I'm totally guilt-ridden and bummed out about that. Thankfully the same program will present on Christmas Eve. I'll be there!
19. Angel on the tree top or a star?
Star. A new one. It used to be an angel (We still have her stored away...I think there is some bad voodoo karma energy associated with disposing of an angel.) but she is way too big (originally for our older tree) for our tree now. Feng shui faux pau.
20. Open the presents Christmas Eve or morning?
I've learned that opening something on Christmas Eve makes Christmas morning a little anticlimatic. I prefer waiting. Nick, however, got his new phone a week ago. Oh well. It'll be underwear and socks for him! HA! I'd put coal or sticks in a sack, but I think that would totally freak out Nathan.
21. Most annoying thing about this time of the year?
One of my radio stations plays ONLY Christmas music. If a country station is playing a holiday song, I'll flip to the other station, and there will be another one. I love Christmas music, but "Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer" is only funny for the first or second go around.
22. Favorite ornament theme or color?
These are a few of my favorite things...
An ornament we got from Venice that is SO not conducive to a house with a two-year-old.
We have two glass blueberry clump ornaments from our honeymoon to Maine.
A gingerbread ceramic ornament that my cousin made when she was little.
My Brookwood ornaments.
My snowman ornaments. They make it feel more like Christmas when it's 80 degrees outside.
We have new bows on the tree this year!
23. Favorite for Christmas dinner?
Thanksgiving encore. I love preparing the food. As an added bonus, the food always tastes great, but it represents having everyone together, healthy, and celebrating.
24. What do you want for Christmas this year?
If I could have anything for Christmas, I'd choose a vacation with Nick for our 10th anniversary coming up in June. It's really NOT what we need to be spending money on, but I'd love to splurge and commemorate the milestone in a special way. But, what can I say? I am so fortunate. I am healthy. My family means the world to me. I have the world by the tail. I'm certainly not boastful about it, but rather humbled by my existence.

Knock, Knock!

Living with a five-and-a-half year old, we often become audience-by-default to cheesy kindergarten-style jokes.

How do porcupies play Leap Frog?
Verrrrrry carefully!

It makes traffic interesting. Okay, it makes traffic a tad more annoying than traffic would be sans the comedy skit. I've gotten to where when I hear, "knock, knock," there's an instant, "NO!" response. Maybe I'm cold hearted.

Today I CRACKED up laughing, though. We were coming home from an after school run to Walmart, and I silently basked in the moment of victory that the traffic on the other side of the freeway was at a standstill, and I was finally the one whooshing along. Small thrills, I know.

Nathan was. . . quiet. Shocking!
Michael's comedic engines rumbled. He is usually a silent bystander to the jokes. Here's how the next minute played out:

M: Knock, knock.
N: Who's there?
M: Knock, knock.
N: Who's there?
M: Knock, knock.
N: Who's THERE?
M: Knock, knock.
N: WHO'S THERE, Michael? You gotta say who's there.
M: Who's there!
N: No, say who's there, Michael?
M: Who's there Michael?
N: MOM!
M: Knock, knock.

Michael made a joke, I was hysterically cracking up, Nathan was dumbfounded yet perplexed at whether or not it was actually a joke or just Michael being a little brother again, and Michael just chuckled once at Nathan's frustration. He either got the intended reaction of his older brother, or he actually understood that he was incredibly funny at that moment. These moments never happen in idle traffic.

Michael Doesn't Like Dinner

My sweet, yet rugged little boy doesn't like our family dinners. He pitches bonafide, raging fits when we all sit down for a "family meal." The researchers say blah blah blah about how family meals are key to the cohesion of the family unit. I agree. There is nothing I enjoy more than just BEING with my Nick and the two youngsters while we feast on a lovingly prepared meal. We talk about the latest events in kindergarten, hear about Nick's latest test or practical, and--I am ashamed and embarrassed to say--watch Michael cringe and squawk and squeal...not in a nice way. He's extremely dramatic, will NOT, under ANY circumstances take a bite of food without the drama elevating to exponential levels. It makes me sad. I'm a good mom. I love my kids. I painstakingly cook for them. And all I get is a BIG FAT fit. Ugh.

Motherly Mayhem over Marshmallows

I'd like to think that I am not a neurotic mother, but perhaps I am. For my weekly grocery shopping experience, I chose Nathan as my date this afternoon. He woke up from his Sunday snooze (after reminding us in a very NON-five-and-a-half-year-old voice how he didn't NEED a nap because he was five and a half now [as of Saturday]--he was overly whiny and fatigued from who knows what) and his mood had improved immensely. Being parents of a NOW 5 1/2 year old, we are bathed in the realization that said child has a littttttle bit snippier of a mouth, reminds us quite often indeed that said child is now 5 1/2, and naps are SOOOOO for two year olds (probably a direct projection on said 5 1/2 year old's younger sibling...yep...he's 2). I happened to REALLY enjoy my nap today. I think I'm still playing catch up from Monday night's concert. Back to the store.

We meandered through the HEB quite happily despite the fact that it was crazy crowded. We wound our way up and down the aisles like ribbon candy. I forgot marshmallows. They were only two aisles behind us. A flash of an idea plopped right into my brain. I could be like the NYC mom who left her child at the store to adventurously find his way home--it was a responsibility thing; she took many precautions, and it was a pretty interesting scenario to read about. EXCEPT, I wasn't going to leave Nathan. I was going to give him an ounce of responsibility, maybe a half an ounce. Nathan could get the marshmallows! I was proud of myself for broadening my neurotic horizons. I gave him clear, neurotically precise instructions:

Go to aisle 5. Do you see the triangles above each aisle with the numbers? Do you see the 5?

I forgot marshmallows. If you're OK with going by yourself, I need you to go get them for me.

Five and a half year olds DO these kinds of things. Apparently. With the snippier mouth, I was reminded.

(I was halfway hoping that he'd remark about how many people were around, and maybe I could just go with him. Maybe Friday when he was just five.)

"I need a bag of little marshmallows," I told him. (I don't like off brand marshmallows, so I specified:) Jet-puffed. They'll say "jet-puffed" on the front. How do you spell jet? Remember, mom, that starts with a J. Am I hallucinating, or am I REMINDED of things way too often?

I told him that I would stay on aisle 7 until he got back. That would come back to bite me.

Oh, the sparkle in his eye, the spring in his step...he was adorable. He was forging into battle at HEB in search of the missing marshmallows. I wanted to remind him that 5 1/2 year olds walk in stores, but he wasn't really runningand but it dawned on me where he might be picking up all this reminding stuff.

I stayed on aisle 7. I waited. I needed coconut milk, but somebody was buggy hogging the exact space that I needed to get to. Didn't they know that I had a child who was more than an arm-stretch away...in this store...alone...looking for marshmallows? I bailed on the coconut milk. They OBVIOUSLY wanted something in the Asian food section MUCH more than I needed coconut milk. Then, I swear--I kid you not--that I heard a voice similar to that of a 5 1/2 year old shout, "Mommy!" That was it. Panic. My kid's picture was going to end up on Nancy Grace, and I'm going to be headlined as a psycho-mom who sent her child helplessly out into the aisles of HEB looking for marshmallows. One's mind can race with flashes of horrific scenarios. I teetered with whether or not that was Nathan's voice. I would definitely know if it WAS his voice, but it could very well have been another kid. AND, I was supposed to stay on aisle 7. That was from my own instructions. What felt like 10 or 15 minutes was probably only ten or 15 seconds. But I worried. I mentally calculated how long it would take the average 5 1/2 year old to scamper to aisle 5, study the selection of marshmallows, find the desired Jet-puffed (with a J), and scamper back to aisle 7. I knew he surely would be moving faster than the customers who STILL blocked my coconut milk. I waited a bit more. I chided myself: I should have never let him out of my sight, he's only 5 1/2, all of this worry over marshmallows?

That was it. I broke protocol. From what I knew of the marshmallows' location on aisle 5, he'd return down the original path. I made a run for it. Reminiscing and chuckling now, I can hear "Chariots of Fire" as the made-for-blogging soundtrack for my story. My buggy path was clear. Thank goodness. Aisle 6 contained no 5 1/2 year olds. That ruled out about 5 percent of the possibilities of why this was taking so long. I continued voraciously back to aisle 5. Maybe my mommy karma, or [hopefully not] the speed and assertiveness of my buggy-navigating made Nathan's eyes instantly meet with mine. In the instant that I knew he was there, I skimmed the fellow customers to make sure none of them had been an obstacle in the marshmallow mission. I tried to remain calm. He was fine. He obviously wasn't the child who had hollered, "Mommy." He did look a little distraught. My nerves and adrenaline were plummeting back to Earth. I wanted to look calm and collected, so I just asked him if he was fixing to come back to aisle 7. He said it was taking a little longer because of two things. [No kidding! It was like hours ago that I sent him on this expedition!] There weren't any small marshmallows, only the large ones. AND he thought jet was spelled J-A-T. Dern vowel sounds. Such an innocent little excuse. No harm done. I told him that I thought the large ones would be fine for what we were going to make.

We turned to press on with our shopping. I laughed out loud when the aisle 7 Asian food section was completely empty. I think Nathan was proud of his accomplishment. I was basking in the fact that he had been driven by the responsibility, and had remained calm and steadfast in his search for the marshmallows. Nathan ended the whole fiasco with, "Mommy, next time I will remember to ask you if big marshmallows would be OK, too." I guess that might be a good thing.