Christmas w/o the family

I've mentioned how much I miss my family who are scattered up and down the west coast with me being the only one in Los Angeles. And at Christmas, this used to be a major travel time for us with trips to visit my sister in Oakland, DG's family also in the Bay Area, and my mom and brother in Seattle.  In recent years, however, we've decided that we want our kids to have their own Christmas traditions and we now stay home.  The kids wake up in their own beds, go out to their own living room, and greet the wonder that Santa has left them.

But the best part of all?  We don't entertain anyone on Christmas day.  No one comes over for dinner, we don't have to go anywhere to be with relatives, we don't even need to have a fancy dinner in the dining room with the china.  We can stay in our pajamas all day and enjoy not having to do anything.  That's what we did this year.  We ate Chinese food at the counter for lunch.  I made Prime Rib for just the 4 of us (it only had one bone!).  We sat on the couch and watched A Christmas Story and drank hot chocolate in front of the tree.

Don't get me wrong.  I LOVE spending time with family and friends.  We had an amazing time with friends on Christmas Eve with a wonderful dinner and singing Christmas carols around their living room piano.


I have a tripped planned to visit my sister in mid-January, and the whole family will trek to Seattle for my mom's 78th birthday in April.


But this Christmas--gloriously alone, and I don't regret it.


So the Holiday wrap up goes like this:

T1 and T2 standing next to each other in the school program. Miracle!

A super rainy night at Disneyland. The rain looks like snow in the camera.

Listening to amazing carolers at the Tam 'O Shanter's holiday dinner

Christmas morning. I was the only one up FOREVER. Kids didn't get up until after 8!

Reading the response letter from Santa. He asked them to be good to each other in the new year and to listen to their parents. hahahaha

T2's special trip to the American Girl Store with friends for a fabulous lunch.

Overall, our holiday break has been wonderful.  Now on to New Year's resolutions.  I am definitely going to do things differently in 2011.  How about you?

Christmas Memories

Remember when you were little, and there's that one thing from Christmas, or Hanukkah, or whatever winter holiday you celebrate that really stands out in your mind as the most funny, or heartbreaking, or heartwarming?  I think everybody has a memory like that.  I've got several.  Like the year my dad left and my 10-year-old brother put up all the Christmas lights by himself.  My mother was so touched--at least I thought she was touched, but it was probably more a mixture of pride in her resourceful son, guilt in her divorce decision leaving us without a "Christmas light hanger," and sadness at her first Christmas as a single parent.  Or the year my brother, sister and I stayed up all night--I mean literally all night--waiting for Christmas morning.  We piled into my room with blankets and stories; we were all teenagers at the time.  We still talk about it.  Every holiday season, I call my sister and say, "Hey, remember this song from that album that we listened to every Christmas?  Remember the one with the red cover?"

As my own kids are now the age when Christmas memories are being formed, I wonder what they'll remember when they get older.  Will in be this year, when Los Angeles was deluged with rain storms of epic proportions that have kept us inside for days?  They've moved from watching Pokemon on TV, to playing Pokemon on the DS, to playing Pokemon cards in T1's room.  (Seriously, is Pokemon really that compelling?)  Honestly, I think they're completely loving this unstructured time just to be kids without all the school, homework, activities, and playdates.  Or will it be decorating the tree and uncovering the beauty of ornaments that slip their minds as the months between Christmases pass? 

This was the first year that I think they'll remember decorating the tree.  I decided to let T1 put on the tree topper.  He is told so much that he needs to be careful, keep his hands to himself, play nicely and gently.  I thought I'd give him a special task that would usually be bestowed upon a family member with excellent dexterity and calm, two things T1 doesn't really have mastery over yet.  My thinking was, let him have something that calls upon his burgeoning maturity and bridges him from little kid to big kid.  Maybe I thought too soon.



Yes, the tree topper broke, and then all hell broke loose.  I got upset with DG, who was upset because he had a feeling that T1 couldn't do it, and then T1 went crying out of the room and hid because I yelled.  Definitely a Christmas memory I'm not proud of, but here it is, for all of you--familly foibles and all.  Off to Stat's we went to get another tree topper.  And, Christmas memory restored.



Maybe it would have been better if we waited a year for this.  Maybe he would have been just that much bigger and could reach the tree top better.  Maybe we would pick a tree without a knot sticking out that would allow the topper to slip right over the top.  Maybe, who knows.  But this is the memory we have.  This is the one I'll remember and I'm sure he'll remember and we'll laugh, "Remember that year we broke the tree topper? Hahahahaha"

It reminds me of that scene at the end of A Christmas Story.  Ralphie's family Christmas dinner is ruined by an unfortunate incident with some neighborhood dogs and the Christmas ham.  They go to a Chinese restaurant and while the waiters are singing Christmas carols, food is brought to their table.  The camera zooms in and they're smiling, laughing, and enjoying themselves.  The voice over describes the memory and you can see that this is the Christmas memory that they'll remember, not the missed ham.  I think of our tree topper the same way.  Every year, when I unwrap it, I'll remember the successful adornment and think about how T1 grew up a little that year.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays.  May the memories you make this year be joyous ones, and if they're not, I hope there's at least some humor.

"The supermarket is NOT a playground!" and other brilliantly obvious quotes

Once upon a time, a nice mommy had to get some groceries for a Thanksgiving dinner for 10.  She set out, armed with her list, a large, empty cart, and two hangers on lovely children.  She knew that there was a bit of a risk attempting this arduous task with two children; after all, they had already spent 3 1/2 hours at work with mommy, playing video games, reading, and being basically sedentary.  She was determined, though.  "This could be fun," she thought.  They might enjoy being a part of this uniquely American holiday of togetherness.  Families come together at Thanksgiving, and what better way to celebrate that than to share in every aspect of bringing the holiday to fruition?  So what, they're only 8.  They can handle it.

So they begin in the produce section.  Quickly, the togetherness begins to deteriorate into determined shopper versus wild, giddy banshees in a battle of who can wreak the most havoc near hot house tomatoes.  (The banshees win.)  Large Granny Smith apples become cheek decorations, held closely to faces with a squeal of glee that is outrageously funny to children.  Not so much for the mommy.  "Stop that.  That noise is too loud!  Are we outside right now?"  The apples drop into the bag, destined for home and later to be chopped into a pie.  Wait, drop is not quite the right word--more like chucked into the bag.  "Stop that," the mommy hisses.  "They'll get bruised.  Can you go get me some bananas now?"  Off the mischief makers go to terrorize the bananas.

The still determined mommy finally steers the children out of the produce section only to be waylaid by the fresh, whole Dungeness crab on ice in the seafood section.  The children see immediate opportunities for puppetry.  The mommy sees salmonella.  "Don't touch that.  It's got bacteria!" 

Onward to the meat counter to get the pre-ordered turkey.  The mommy gives the order to the butcher.  The children see this break in the action as a signal to create some more mayhem.  All of a sudden, the aisle beside the ground beef and pork chops becomes a ring for a World Wrestling Federation championship.  One child has the other in a headlock.  Both topple to the ground again in loud peals of laughter that would have the world around them think this smackdown was the most fun they'd had in days.  "What are you doing?" the mortified mommy questions.  As if an answer to this question is what she really wants or even remotely believes she's going to get.  Shoppers go by and give the mommy looks of questionable emotions.  Sympathy in one face that says, "Oh yes, I feel you, sister.  That's why I'm here by myself."  Disgust in another, "Can't you keep those monkeys under control? What are you thinking allowing them to play in a supermarket the day before Thanksgiving?" 

"The supermarket is NOT a playground!" the mommy points out.  The children stare blankly back at her, pause for a second, and then burst into guffaws before trying to take each other down, karate-chop-style again.  Knowing that she's got to do something to intervene, the mommy quickly makes a small list for each of the children.  Go get this... the list says.  Well now she's done it.  The children bolt off in different directions in search of the "scavenger hunt" items.  Their frenzy in trying to get the yogurt/orange juice/aluminum foil/cider vinegar indicates to the mommy that this is not a helpful gesture.  It's become a race, and as with any race, there will be a loser.  And a sore loser is fodder for more dirty looks from passing shoppers trying desperately to get their own cranberry sauce, and it has tremendous potential for being the straw that breaks the camel's back in the fragile balance between being silly and snapping into a tantrum.  The children return with the items.  They ask for more tasks.  They want to work together this time.  The mommy is pleased.  She watches them as they go back again and again trying to find the exact right type of sea salt.

Finally, our little troupe of shoppers arrives at the check out counter.  Various tempting candies call like sirens to the children.  They are drawn to them, "Can we have one pleeeeeaaaassseeee?"  "No," says the mommy, matter-of-factly, hoping that a non-response will help the desire blow over.  The children become helpful, taking items out of the cart and onto the check stand conveyor belt.  "Wait....no....not the glass...." cautions the mommy with a hovering hand as the 3 lb. bottle of apple juice finally makes it to the hands of the checker. "Wow, Mom, we're going to go over $300!  This is a record!" one child bellows as he watches the tick, tick, tick of the register tape.  The mommy slowly swipes the credit card, trying to resist the urge to hush the child.  "We don't talk about money in public places, honey," she mutters under her breath.

"Would you like some help out?" asks the bagger.  "Oh if only you could," thinks the mommy.  "No," she says, "I think we've got it." she says.  And the children hop on to the sides of the already loaded down cart.  They make their way to the parking lot and the mommy spies another mom with kids entering the store.  "Now stay right next to me and don't get into trouble," the mommy hears the new mom say.  She passes the sympathetic look and smiles.

Small Town Halloween

Wow, I just went on Facebook this morning, and everyone is posting about their Halloween.  There's my niece, who made a killer Dia de los Muertos mask with make up on her face, a bunch of cute 5th grade nerds, and lots and lots of parents getting in the spirit with their kids.

We live in a small town.  It's got a population of about 25,000 and a small city limit.  This all adds up to running into neighbors and friends everywhere we go.  Our weekends are filled with this: soccer games, grocery store, and the local yogurt shop.  Last night, we joined the throngs of trick or treaters who cruised along one of the major residential streets.  Houses decorated.  Kids running like crazy.  Streets actually blocked off because foot traffic is more prevalent than street traffic.

My kids got more candy than they can eat in a lifetime, and the visited the scariest house in town.  Freddy Krueger even jumped out of a corn field they erected in their front yard to scare innocent trick or treaters.  T2 braved the front door for a handout, but T1 stayed quietly on the sidewalk until a chain saw maniac ran wild in the street.  Terrified, they said they were ready to go home.

Voldemort and Hermione aim wands

It was cold.  Good thing I finished that scarf.

Dang, could he look any more un-dead?

Ummmm, yeah

It's not Halloween unless you're stuffing your face with candy

I am so proud of the homemade costumes which fit right in with the tons of Harry Potters we saw around town.  Hope you had a great Halloween too.  What traditions make your town special?