We are back from Thanksgiving travel to visit family. We saw relatives we haven't seen in 5 years or a decade, and my sons met cousins they've never seen before. It was lovely to reconnect with so many. FB is a great way to maintain relationships over distances, but it's a bit like an artificial lung, isn't it? Never quite as good as really being there, and hugging your loved ones in person!
Now I am looking down the barrel of the usual holiday craziness with:
3 holiday concerts
2 holiday plays
2 kids birthday parties to plan and execute
Christmas
2 office Christmas parties
Christmas cookie baking exchange
New Year's Eve party
2 holiday gatherings with friends
Schedule conflicts have already eliminated 2 more Christmas gatherings from my calendar, and frankly, I am a bit relieved.
I am tempted to ditch 3 other standard holiday activities:
Christmas cards are looking unlikely this year. Every other year is good enough, right?
The tree, if we ever get one, will be up for only 2 weeks. That hardly seems worth the bother, right?
Persimmons? Not this year.
So, strap in, and we'll see how this goes! I hope all of you are able to take some time and *enjoy* the season amidst all the crazy!
The first Christmas card has arrived in the mail today. I knew it was coming soon. Some people are so organized they are ready to drop them in the mail the day after Thanksgiving. (showoffs!) I aspire to be so organized, but have not managed this feat yet. I do have the photo cards printed out, so 2 of the 10 steps to getting my cards in the mail are done, at least.
The arrival of the card triggered the mounting anxiety I always feel this time of year (shall we call it a theme? does that sound better than "I repeat myself every year"?), so I am trying to find ways to enjoy the holidays more and stress less.
I realized part of the issue is that that are dozens of tasks to be completed before the new year, and the Type A in me wants them all to be DONE NOW. Since some of them can't even be started until after Christmas (like cleaning for the New Year's Eve party), I need to live with these "to-do" items.
I realized a project schedule would be a big help. If I can see that things will get done, even if not right this second, and I am not behind on anything, then maybe I will be able to let go. This year has the bonus of an extra weekend after Thanksgiving, before December actually begins, so I have another whole week! Barley's birthday party is out of the way, and it's not even December yet!
I am also delegating, having assigned the Christmas cookie exchange to DH, and hired out the housecleaning for the party. That helps.
Milestones ahead:
This weekend: Cards out, Tree in
Next weekend: Outside lights on
The weekend after that: Indoor decor done
If we manage that, then I may be able to start relaxing a little by December 17th, and firmly set aside New Year's Eve party worries until Dec. 26. That would be 9 whole days of enjoying the holiday--wow, that would be great!
I feel like I am forgetting something though...oh, right, oldest son's birthday after Christmas, before New Year's, must be planned...dang! OK, just pass the chocolate now, will you?
Over the weekend, we were planning the menu and cooking order for today. As the boys get older, it has been nice to delegate some of the work. This is most easily accepted when we assign each person their favorite dish:
DH makes the apple pie
I make the sweet potatoes and stuffing
Teddy agreed to make the mashed potatoes
Barley was assigned the out-of-the-can crescent rolls
DH and I divided the obligatory turkey and green vegetables between us
Pumpkin bread was made Monday night, and we bought a pumpkin pie for Teddy
I was casting around for more vegetables and fiber to add to this overabundance of carbs, when Barley asked, "Could we have more stuff that *I* like this year?"
DH and I visually conferred with each other, thinking what Barley usually eats:
Turkey
Crescent rolls
Pumpkin Bread
Broccoli--though this is only because he is required to
OK, that's an adequate meal, but I get the point that this hardly constitutes the feast the rest of us were looking forward to. Here are Traditional Thanksgiving food that Barley does not eat: sweet potatoes, mashed potatoes, stuffing, cranberry sauce, apple pie, pumpkin pie.
We asked what he would like, and he said how about noodles? Or corn? Great, more carbs...DH and I agreed to add corn to the menu, and told Barley that he could make ramen noodles for himself if he likes. I didn't really want to add a pot of pasta to the menu for the rest of us, so this was agreed.
First world issues. We all had plenty to eat, enjoyed the china and crystal that come out twice a year, and were cleaned up well before bedtime. For Barley, this is the best time of the year, as Thanksgiving also kicks off BIRTHDAY SEASON, as we roll into Barley's 11th, Christmas, Teddy's 14th, and New Year's Eve Game Day before the social schedule slows down.
Strap in, everyone, it's going to be a wild ride! I hope all of my readers had equally relaxing and plentiful Thanksgiving days.
My friends are all getting ready for the new year:
One friend has paid down all of her debts, and reminded me that we have a decades old debt to pay back a college roommate. We'd bet on who would have the worst childbirth story, and the "winner" with the most gruelling story would get a vacation paid for by the other two. Now in our mid-40's, we're pretty certain that contest has officially ended, and we're going to pay up in 2012. A college reunion trip is in the works!
Another friend is exhorting us all on FB that it's time to put away the Christmas decorations already. Ours will stay up until after the New Year's celebration--one more party to go. Though the tree is coming down this week to make room as our house is not that large. I find the idea of tearing the tree down the day after Christmas a bit abrupt, as I want the holidays to linger. (Surprising, given how stressed I've been this year)
I feel the urge to clean. It doesn't strike often, but I like the idea of a clean house to welcome in the New Year. It's also when I check all the lightbulbs inside and outside to replace any that have burned out. I am amazed that one house, built recently in a development of cookie-cutter homes, was designed with 5 different types of ceiling bulbs!?
My friends of Japanese descent have a special soup they eat on New Year's morning for good luck--can't remember the details--not having had any (hint!).
My Korean friends celebrate by making mandoo (dumplings) and "eating one more year" of rice. Koreans in Korea count themselves another year older on January 1, but I think I'll stick to the Western method of waiting until my actual birthday--it buys me another 9 months!
When I lived in Cleveland, a coworker told me it's good luck to eat port on the new year, so as to always have plenty. Chicken was bad luck on New Year's Day as it presaged a year of "scratching" for food.
What are you doing to prepare for the New Year? Or are you in survival mode like I am?
I'm back in my holiday rut of feeling grumpy and stressed out around the holidays. Barley's birthday and Thanksgiving behind us, Teddy's birthday, Christmas, and our annual New Year's Eve gala loom ahead. Throw in extreme work stress, and DH recovering from knee surgery, and it's a hot mess all right.
In an effort to evade my annual grumpiness, I am trying to get out ahead of the holiday obligations. Every assumption is up for debate:
Do I have to send out greeting cards? This is 6 out of 16 of the holiday to-do list, and one of the biggest stressers. I briefly considered ditching it, or replacing it with electronic greetings, but then decided against. I LOVE getting real Christmas cards in the mail, so I have to send them to get them (that's only fair). I have duly noted which of my friends have switched to electronic cards, and respecting their preferences, I will send them a cheery digital note as well by the end of the season. I am relieved to say that I am DONE with this onerous task, having settled for a nice summer picture which most of my friends have already seen. Don't hate me for being an early bird--just trying to reduce my holiday guilt!
What about the New Year's Eve party? DH and I debated moving it out to mid-January, but decided the circle of friends who attends this would be even less likely to make the effort to join us. For some, it is the only time each year we might see them. We floated the idea of a New Year's Day party, removing the requirement to stay until midnight, but one of the 4 families cannot make that day. So, party on!
Christmas tree? I had the boys prioritize some of the things we do over the holidays that is a lot of work: Party, Tree, outside lights, inside decor. Tree was in the top 2 on everyone's list. So, we re-affirmed that one, but reminded the boys that they will be expected to help decorate the tree, and reviewed the schedule.
Indoor decor did better than I expected: 3rd instead of last. It's one of my favorite things, so I'll get the creche set up and hang the garlands on the bannisters after all.
The outdoor lights were mostly last, but DH seems to like those, so they may get out after all. Just no hurry since it seems to be lower priority for most of us.
Things we are ditching this year:
My office holiday party. It's a big event, held someplace posh in San Francisco. Always fun and memorable, but the babysitter who can stay until 1 in the morning gets pretty expensive, and it's a long drive in from where we live. I also have to leave for a business trip the morning after, so we decided to skip it this year. Feeling a bit less happy with my job lately anyway, so better not to add "forced socializing" to that side of the ledger.
The Christmas Cookie exchange with some girlfriends. It's fun, but we're all feeling a bit stressed out. I'll try to make cookies sometime, but not under a deadline to make 4 dozen presentable ones for trading.
I didn't write a Christmas letter to go with the cards. Most of our friends are on FB now anyway, and those that aren't can write me back to get more personalized news. I may feel the urge to summarize the year, and if I do, I'll just post it here for you all.
So as the annual holiday marathon begins, my wish for all of you is to have a happy and RELAXED holiday, to whatever extent circumstances allow.
The boys have finished their appointed rounds, and the loot is spread out on the kitchen table. Sorting has begun, with each designating a pile of potential trade items. Barley's pile is bigger, since his braces eliminate all gooey, chewy items, and also anything with nuts (they break into little particles that get wedged in the appliance).
Somehow, Teddy scored one big candy bar that Barley did not, so the offer and counter-offers begin. Deals are made with a seriousness that would not be out of place at billion dollar corporate merger. Once all parties are satisfied, the true candy rejects head for either the garbage can (smashed, unwrapped candy, or broken lollipops), or the better pieces get recirculated in the candy bowl for future supplicants at the door. Maybe the candy corn and twizzlers will find a happy home with one of them.
The candy jars are wiped of dust that covers the bottoms, after the long dry summer candy-free season. They are replenished with sugar to kick off the long winter sugar season: Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, Valentine's Day, Easter. Thus the cycle begins anew, ending, beginning, thus it will always be. Amen.
So, I do realize two days before Easter is not the best time to start shopping. What can I say? I've been busy, and this has been a stressful year for holiday figures. The existence of both Santa and the Tooth Fairy have become purely capitalistic collaboration by our kids. While trying to Google-search the "right age" to put an end to the charade, I came across this funny post about negotiating Easter baskets with a teenager. I could so totally imagine having that conversation next year!
Since we're still "in transition" at our house, I've eyed the packed baskets in the local drug and grocery stores, but passed them by for being too young for my boys, now 9 and 12. The following are what they usually contain:
Sidewalk chalk in egg shapes (got a ton which they don't use anyway)
Pink plastic girly stuff--this eliminates half the stock
Bubbles--nah, 3 years past that even for the youngest child
Plastic ball with rackets, catchers, etc--we've thrown all those away recently, don't want to bring more into the house
Matchbox cars--just got rid of a ton of those
Coloring books
The wrong kind of candy--not enough chocolate!
Barley has braces this year, and 6 recent extractions of baby teeth. Jelly beans, marshmallow peeps, and anything else sticky is out of the question. This leaves...chocolate.
OK, so I get that I'll just have to buy some of that. But some kind of basket with some little toys would have been great. I tried costco--no luck. ToysRus was also out of stock. I picked up a few items, then hubby called with a new video game suggestion. So not what I wanted to give them to celebrate the ascension of Christ...but it would make them really, really happy. I caved.
At the drugstore to buy candy to stuff plastic eggs with, I witnessed a perfectly predictable (but still awful to witness) total meltdown by a 4-year old who wanted Easter candy NOW! Her poor mom was trying to check out, and calmly reassuring her that the Easter Bunny was likely coming Sunday morning. That was way to far away to mean anything to this bedazzled child standing in front of a mountain of pastel edibles. Crushed disappointed toddler, stressed-out mother, distraught bystanders. Way too commercial, too sugary, too too everything.
I am just glad that we've finally found a welcoming church to go to Sunday morning. While there will be some small Easter egg hunt, we will also enjoy a community potluck, and that seems like the right way to celebrate Easter to me--with lovely people, and remembering the original reason for the day.
It has become a tradition that I make my Nana's Irish soda bread for St. Patrick's Day every year. Then I had children, and one of them wanted to bring it in to share with his class. OK, 20 thin slices out of one loaf...hmm, maybe I can make 2 loaves. Fast-forward 6 years, and Teddy's class now has 34 students! Add in the one I want to bring into my office, one for a friend we are visiting on Friday, and one for us to enjoy, and that means I need to make six! (Since Barley doesn't care for any baked bread except pumpkin bread, his class misses out)
As you can see below, every round baking pan in the house was pressed into service (including my cast-iron frying pan--which did not cook long enough). I know I could bake them in regular rectangular loaf pans, but that just would not look right to me--it's not how my Nana made them. The picture does not include the one I made for us as a test batch, because that one is already half gone.
The recipe for her Irish soda bread might have been lost forever if not for my younger brother's wife, who measured out the ingredients while helping Nana to make it one day (Thanks, J!). Nana didn't use a recipe, nor did she measure. She just put the flour, etc. in a bowl until it "looked right" and baked it up.
HAPPY St. Patrick's Day!
May you always have
Walls for the wind,
A roof for the rain,
Tea beside the fire,
Laughter to cheer you,
Those you love near you,
And all your heart might desire!
It is always such a marathon this time of year--and judging by the expressions on the faces of fellow parents at the mall, I am not the only one who feels this way. Part of my stress is my innate perfectionist, Type-A, "Driver" personality. Part of it is also the poor planning that yielded two holiday birthdays for our offspring. Not that it was totally under our control, but yeah, if we had counted forward 9 months on the calendar, we could have taken a break.
So, as DH tries to gently remind me to enjoy the holidays more, and stress/worry less, I tried to put everything I've read this year from Gretchen Rubin's wise blog: The Happiness Project, into practice.
Instead of fretting about the Christmas gifts I hadn't finished wrapping, or being annoyed that I'd overpaid for something that went on sale the day after I bought it, or reminding the boys to save that ribbon, bow, or gift bag, I just let the process unwrap on Christmas Eve. We bowed to the pressure of the boys' anticipation and let them open everything, and so did we.
Our boys had a lot of nerf guns already. Being hippie left-wing pacificists, we're not fond of guns or violent play. Ogres chopping each other's heads off with swords in online fantasy roleplay, or Jedis slashing each other with light sabers--that's cool. Just not real 21st century type violence.
But Nerf guns are different...they're soft, bright orange and yellow, and afford respite from 2 loud restless boys who can't sit near each other without getting riled up and fighting. Sure, they're still riled up, but it is OUTSIDE in the backyard, and with the glass doors and windows closed, the shrieking and yelling don't bother me nearly so much. The neighbors? Well, they haven't complained yet, and we did provide our actual correct phone number when they asked, so we'll just trust they're OK until they tell us they're not.
Teddy and I went shopping for his brother, and he got him the new weapon with the round 35-shot barrel attachment and some extra darts. Since they were buy one, get one 1/2 off, it made sense for him to spend the gift card from his aunt and uncle and arm himself too.
Then the Santa at DH's office Christmas party gave the boys a Nerf rifle--with fold out stabilizing legs and the ability to split into 2 weapons with 6-dart clips. And finally, their best friends gave them each a double-barrel Nerf rifle. These open up in the middle, and load from the back of the barrel, just like real shotguns.
Yes, that's right, FIVE new Nerf weapons in 3 days. I am amazed none of them duplicated each other. Each one shoots farther, faster, or shoots double, leaving their other dozen weapons in the dust. They can now arm a full infantry troop with Nerf guns from their own weapon stock. If the army issued soft foam darts instead of real bullets, that is. Somehow, the Pacifist in me actually likes that idea.
Peace on Earth indeed. Just not in my backyard once it stops raining. Hope all your dreams of Christmas magic have come true as well.
As you can tell, the end of year has me in a firm headlock, preventing me from engaging in any of my own personally gratifying activities, as I run the merry holiday chase and throw 2 kids birthdays into the mix just for fun. I am tired all the time, and working hard not to let my inner grumpiness express itself as my outer Grinch. This tiredness might be a plausible excuse for all the following story.
We were on our way to church yesterday, and my mind was ruminating on how Jesus birthday became such a spectacular celebration of mass consumption. DH and I are reviewing the lists of gifts for offspring, seeking that fine balance between Christmas morning magic, and totally overdoing it. I am sure we will err on the side of overdoing.
So, that's where my train of thought was when Teddy asked from the backseat, "Where did all this Santa stuff get started?
I responded, "I think it started in Europe. Every culture there seemed to have their own myth, like Father Christmas, or some such, that delivered gifts to children in celebration of Jesus birthday."
2 beats...
Barley accused loudly from the back seat, "Hey! You just admitted that Santa Claus isn't real!"
DH quickly jumped in, clarifying that we had been discussing how the Christmas traditions from many cultures throughout Europe became merged in America, like Christmas trees, and stockings, and Father Christmas becoming Santa Claus. I jumped in with some garbled logic about how it didn't matter to Santa what people called him, he came anyway...
Teddy kept his mouth shut, sensing the disaster we were trying to avert.
We had a traumatic Tooth Fairy "outing" a few months ago, wherein the boys proved their hypothesis, catching someone red-handed, arm under pillow. That was a tragic night, as our youngest child realized he'd looked backstage before his last baby teeth were gone. Reassurances were offered, but it will never be the same.
Santa has been keeping a low profile this year. No pictures with the bearded man at the mall (any mall), who may or may not be the real deal, or may be just one of many of Santa's helpers. I've suggested the boys write a letter to Santa and get it mailed before it is too late, but they've neither affirmed nor denied their intention to do so. They were at the suspicious/questioning stage the last 2 years, so I think they've accepted whatever conclusions they've worked out in their own minds, and are willing to just go along for the ride. And that's good enough.
We had a lovely Thanksgiving at our house. I hope the same was true for all of you. The boys managed to play quietly, and I don't think the television was on for more than an hour today. Quite remarkable, really.
In an attempt to make the holiday season more manageable this year, DH and I ordered a full turkey dinner from Nob Hill for just $59. It was a moderate success. There was a handy hour-by-hour guide to remind you when each item needed to go into the oven. There was certainly a lot less prep work required, but still plenty to do in terms of reheating, and almost as many tools to wash as if we had cooked from scratch. Below is a list of all the dishes, and our rating of each:
Turkey: Good size bird, precooked. However, I didn't anticipate that it would be precooked but frozen. It must have thawed some in the local store's refrigerator, but this required the usual large roasting pan, and 2.5 hours to warm back up for eating. Lots faster than from scratch--A+
Stuffing: This was not precooked--they provided a tin, breadcrumbs, and turkey broth vegetable mix. I am sure this would have been adequate, but I realized I am picky about my stuffing--I have to have sausage! And celery! and onion! And raisin bread! So, I basically ended up making it myself after all, except for the seasoned broth they provided. Grade: B for effort.
Mashed Potatoes: OK, these were fine, and nice to have already mixed, just had to reheat. Grade = A
Broccoli, Cheese, Rice Casserole: With all the other starch in the meal (potatoes, stuffing, bread), I don't really get why they put rice in the bottom? We realized after we cooked it that we actually like our broccoli just plain and steamed. B for effort--not really their fault we are picky.
Rolls: These were tasty, but we also could have bought these easily, so it didn't really save us much cooking time. Grade = A
Gravy: Again, adequate. Nothing wrong with this the way it was...but my pan gravy tastes better. Probably because I use most of the drippings instead of just a few tablespoons. My gravy will kill you faster, but you'll enjoy the experience. Grade = B.
Pumpkin Pie: This was perfect. Only Teddy and I will eat it though, but can't blame them for my family's pickiness. Grade = A
Cranberry Sauce: This was also fine, but we preferred the canned stuff. B for effort.
Our own additions to the menu:
I made my sister-in-laws mapled sweet potatoes--YUM! Sadly, I learned my sons don't care for this dish. Oh well, more for me and DH!
Pumpkin Bread, of course!
Homemade apple pie was touch-and-go whether it would happen or not, but Teddy's enthusiasm swayed his father into action. It didn't hurt that Teddy peeled and chopped all the apples, and the crust was store-bought.
Overall, would I buy the Nob Hill Thanksgiving Dinner again? Probably not. Other than the turkey, the parts of the meal that were spot-on for my family's palate were the easier dishes, which we would likely just buy anyway. It was certainly less work, though almost as many pots and pans. However, with a whole day to do the cooking, and one son who willingly helps, I think we'll just take it from scratch next year.
The one part that was more than just adequate, was the feeling of gratitude, and the cooperation we had all day. DH and I partnered well in the kitchen, Teddy helped by making breakfast, and eating enthusiastically, and Barley had not a cross word for anyone all day. Give Thanks indeed.
The after-school childcare center that my children attend some afternoons is also open this week, during the district cutback holiday schedule. Perhaps it is cosmic punishment for leaving my children in alternate care all 3 days before Thanksgiving, as the center director invited me to a special luncheon today. They are going to have a Thanksgiving style meal at lunchtime, complete with turkey, stuffing, etc.
Seriously? The day before the nation gorges on turkey, they're going to have a turkey luncheon? Why would they do that?? All 3 childcare centers my children have attended have done this. The best part is the invitation to the parents to attend the celebration. DH made the error of taking time off work to attend one of these pre-turkey luncheons. Neither he, nor I, had the day off, so he just extended his lunch hour a bit. We figured we didn't want Teddy, who was 2 at the time, to be the only toddler without a parent at this "special" lunch. All went well until lunch was over, and DH had to return to work.
Teddy was just beside himself in tears. We'd never stopped in during the day before, so whenever he saw us, it was always time to go home! There was DH leaving him behind!!! I got a call describing the heartbreak when DH finally escaped. We both felt terrible and realized it might have been better to skip the lunch after all. There were not that many other parents there--they must have known better.
And yes, I've been invited to join the boys at the pre-turkey lunch today. Reliving that memory though, and thinking of the parents who were moved to take their kids home after lunch...suddenly I have insight on why daycare centers might like serving this meal. It just seems wrong to eat turkey and NOT take your kids home with you after. I'll have to fortify myself beforehand.
I loved both boys' costumes, of course. Barley dressed up as a soccer player, which was easy, and a nice break from the last few years of licensed characters or ninjas. Teddy's costume was an even bigger hit though, having been suggested by DH and enthusiastically embraced by fun-loving Teddy:
The Back:
The Front:
#6 was my favorite question.
Teddy enjoyed all the attention from both passing Trick-or-Treaters, and people giving out candy. Many times Barley had to wait impatiently on the sidewalk for Teddy to leave a house after their main mission of candy-grabbing had been accomplished, while people ooooh-ed and aaaah-ed over the the home-made costume. I was glad for Teddy to get some time to show it off, since he'd been laid low by a fever the last few days, and missed both the school costume parade, and any chance of attending any Halloween parties. The only adjustment he wishes he had made to the Pop Quiz was cut-outs for his arms. His arms got tired having to keep his elbows akimbo the whole time to hold his candy bag.
Today's post is inspired by this one that lives on in email chains forever.
Magic Eraser can take crayon off a painted wall without damaging the paint. A paste made of baking soda and water can take paint off the wall without damaging the crayon marks.
Dried boogers can be removed from a wall by placing wet toilet paper over it for a minute. This returns them to their original consistency for easier removal.
One warm child snuggled in bed with you in the morning is cuddly. One on each side is a recipe for backache.
It's easier to just let them tell the 57th knock-knock joke in a row than listen to them whine if you refuse.
Korean wake-up service is more fun to give than to receive. (Involves 2 small children jumping on the bed on either side of you, yelling, "Wake up, wake up, it's time to get up!)
I can be more patient than my mother would ever have imagined.
I yell a lot when I am angry.
Cooking good food that is eaten heartily is very satisfying.
Cooking good food that is rejected instantly is very aggravating.
I regret that lack of the proper enzyme prevents me from drinking alcohol. Even more as a parent than when I was in college.
Changing poopy diapers is not so objectionable when it is your own baby. Then again, they start off pretty mild, and get more pungent slowly over time. I think that is intentional, don't you?
Parenting requires more muscles and brain cells than anything else I have ever tried in my life. Nothing has challenged, thrilled, frustrated, gratified, and rewarded me more than raising my boys.
What improbable things have you learned from your offspring?
HAPPY MOTHER'S Day
to all the Moms reading this blog--I hope your day is as fantastic as mine is going to be. I understand it will begin with church, have lots of roses in the middle, and end with fried rice, and that's just about the best thing ever!
My father, full-blooded Irishman that he was, used to say at every red stoplight, "Show your Irish." Or it might have been "Show you're Irish." I never asked him. He grew up speaking Gaelic until his family moved to the US when he was school age.
He also taught me to pick up my baked potato, loaded with butter, and eat it like a piece of toast. When I did this at a formal family gathering (I'm pretty sure the table was set with china and cloth napkins), one of the old aunts at the table commented, "She certainly likes her potatoes, doesn't she?"
Oblivious to any reproach or sarcasm, if there was any, I turned and grinned at her, repeating one of Dad's favorite phrases, "You can't be Irish if you don't like potatoes!"
Picture a 100% Korean 8-year old face saying this, and you'll really get the full picture.
The story starts last year, when our Cub Scout Pack's old wooden track was showing severe signs of old age. Inherited from a forgotten past, no one in the current pack even knows when it was built. It has been repaired again and again, with duct tape, glue, new paint, old paint, replaced brass joins, etc. keeping it going year after year. When one of the 4 tracks became unusable last year (cars on the track were jumping off the lane, into other cars, damaging both), it was determined that a new track was needed.
All fundraising was dedicated to the purchase of a new fold-away aluminum track, which would no longer require anyone in the pack to dedicate their garage to storing the old behemoth.
DH and I saw an opportunity. Enquiries were made as to the ultimate disposition of the old wooden track. The response was shrugs. No one else was interested in its fate, and most just saw it as a problem of disposal to be solved later. DH's father was a carpenter, so he has a natural affinity for anything wood. Our boys have a natural affinity for anything ramp-like for racing cars of all kinds.
We had already planned to sell all the Thomas the Train materials on Craigs List. We made an offer to the Pack for the proceeds (sell lots of little tracks for one big track). An agreement was reached. A surprise was planned.
In the meantime, Barley had decided he did not want to participate in the Derby this year. Since he has also made assertions (which have so far been ignored) about wanting to quit scouting, this was likely the last Derby for him. Teddy is crossing over to Boy Scouts, so this is his last year too. DH was very disappointed, but I reassured him...wait until they see the track IN the house. Barley will come around.
So much work shifting junk in the garage, hiding the parts in plain sight but under lots of old boxes, and the secret surprise present was revealed...
at 7:00am Christmas morning.
DH and I had been up until 2:00am putting the track together. We made no pretensions about anyone but us bringing it in. We heard the boys whispering disbelief to each other outside our door, and got out of bed to enjoy their incredulous reactions.
The track is about 35 feet long, and 5.5 feet high on one end. As you can see from the photo, it took up our entire "hallway", blocking access to the kitchen and the stairway. You had to walk under or over it to get through the day. It was another 40 minutes at least before the toys from Santa got any attention at all.
The boys discovered that not only do pinewood derby cars roll well on the track, but so do hot wheels. A new purpose for the diecast cars was discovered, augmenting the "crashers" game they've played with their cars for years.
Barley did indeed make a full turnaround in attitude. He was now fully committed to making a new car for the derby, and willingly participated in a greater percentage of the overall work effort. Some things are truly priceless.
The title today is the punchline to an old favorite joke. I'll share it at the end, but I'm telling the joke backwards now. Funny, I've been doing that all day.
These holidays have wrung me out. It could have been the gray weather we've been having here in NorCal. Or work stress. (But it didn't ease up when the last of my year-end deadlines passed without the world ending.) It could be a new prescription I am on, or some hormonal flux.
But now that the holidays are over, and I find myself practically EAGER to tear down the Christmas decorations, I must face that it was probably holiday blues. I felt this way last year too, but blamed it on a very stressful family vacation to "the happiest place on earth." (When your kid gets sick on his birthday, and the whole family is stressed out and taking it out on each other...not so much)
I am actually very relieved to be getting back to work. Expectations are clear (I am fortunate to have a good boss), I am confident and competent, and most things are under my control. My first day back, and already I have 3 weeks of travel and teach ahead of me, some of it international. But by agreeing, I get to be the hero. It's so NICE to be appreciated.
This last month, with more of the focus on home and trying to be Martha (who I ain't!), I think I just felt inadequate. The things that I was most worried about (son's behavioral issues, sibling's health) will take time to resolve, and I can contribute maybe 5% of the solution to the problem. The burden of the hard work and life changes have to be shouldered by other people. Since I can't fix these very important problems instantly, I instead focused on more trivial matters, like decorating my house, or getting my Christmas cards out. If I just do those things perfectly, then everything else will work out OK, right?
So, I am glad to be back at work, where I have more control over things. I am glad to see the boys return to school, where someone else has the joy of disciplining them for at least 5 hours per day. I can be happy to see them and ask how their day was, rather than grousing at them to turn off the video games after 10 hours of playing non-stop (and stop teasing/poking/bugging/hitting each other!).
I have a feeling the sun is coming back out too.
Here's the joke that goes with the punchline:
This guy dies, and unfortunately finds he has arrived in Hell. The Devil shows him his options for eternal punishment...in the first room--people are standing on their heads on a wooden floor. In the second room, people are standing on their heads on a cement floor. In the third room, however, people are standing upright, sipping tea, in a room where the floor is covered in a noxious liquid that comes to their ankles. The guy decides he will take his eternal punishment in room 3, since they are at least not standing on their heads.
Once the door shuts, the guard announces "Break's over, back on your heads!"
Oh, and if you could use a good laugh after this somber musing, go read this funny post about a wardrobe malfunction in Albany, NY. It definitely lifted my mood!
Picture a little girl, about 6 years old, supposedly. It's hard to believe that can be accurate, since she is so small stepping off the plane that has just brought her from Korea to New York's bustling airport (Kennedy or LaGuardia? I'm not sure)
Two people are waiting for her--both Caucasian. One is a plump middle-aged woman, with curly brown hair in a styled hairdo--freshened up at the salon she visits every week. The other is a tall thin man, and the little girl has to crane her neck to see his face. They both embrace her, taking her from the greeter who relieved the chaperone that flew across the Pacific Ocean with her to bring her to her new family. This will be the last time for a while that she will be able to speak to anyone, as she does not yet understand any English words. The small bag that was packed for her by the orphanage was lost somewhere along the flight. All she has is the clothing she is wearing, which include rubber shoes (kudus) that are too big, held on her feet by rubber bands. She is clutching the papers she drew on to occupy her during the flight. The lines make no sense to her new parents, since they are the beginnings of hangul, Korean writing. No loops or curves are visible as you would see in Roman letters.
She is not even wearing a winter coat, and it is February in New York. There is snow outside. The parents bundle her up with their own jackets, and head home--it will be a 90 minute drive at least.. Traffic can be bad. They stop at a store to buy her a warm coat. The first one they have her try on is much too large--her hands are lost inside the sleeves. When they gesture to her to take it off (they speak no Korean, she speaks no English), she wraps her arms tightly around herself and shakes her head "No." It might be the first new coat she's ever touched. They buy another coat in a smaller size, along with the much-too-large coat she refused to take off, and get back in the car.
On the way home, they stop to visit a close friend, who has followed the adoption saga from its early days, when the couple had miscarriage after miscarriage. Aunt Mary, as she will become known, remembers when the thought of adopting from Korea first germinated in the mother's mind. It was during a time of despair, after breast cancer had ravaged her body, and hopes for a baby with her husband were dashed again and again. One baby was lost on her husband's birthday.
They had looked into adoption, but the mother's cancer and the father's lifelong history of diabetes made them unpopular applicants. One agency was cruel enough to hint they shouldn't adopt a baby, since they would not live long enough to raise it.
Just as she was starting to think God was telling them to be satisfied with the two sons from her first marriage, she saw a table somewhere advertising international adoption. Hope grew again. Her husband, and her teenage sons were supportive. They filled in the paperwork, underwent more home studies, and waited for a match. They had requested an infant.
The day the papers arrived, the photo looked like a newborn--no hair on her head at all. Reading further, they realized the dossier was not for a baby, but a 5-year old girl! Her eyes were downcast, and no smile in any of the photos. Despite the age mismatch, the mother decided this child must be her daughter. She had lost her father in the hospital only that morning, and this was a sign that this child would help fill the empty space in her heart.
Aunt Mary knew about all that. And she remembered when this child was supposed to arrive at Thanksgiving. But something happened with the paperwork, so she was delayed a few weeks to December. Then she was going to be home by Christmas. Only the girl got sick--caught the measles, or chicken pox or something that should have been prevented with immunizations as a baby. Anyway, she was finally here, months after she had been expected.
The 3 walked into the house, took off their coats, and shared the warm glow of family, friends, and love. When it was time to leave, the girl panicked. She thought she was finally home, and now these 2 people who had taken her from the airport were holding her coat out to her--they were taking her back to the airport! She was so upset, she screamed, cried, flailed around, refusing to put on the coat she had earlier refused to take off in the store. There was no common language to explain to her that she was not being sent back to Korea.
When they finally got her in the car, they drove to their real home. There was a giant dog that greeted them noisily, frightening the girl into the living room...where she saw something very odd. There was a tree in the house, decorated with lights and other objects, and a pile of presents underneath.
At the encouragement of her new parents, she picked out one small box and opened it. Inside was a bracelet, gold in color, with a small chain and clasp. She put it on right away, and looked longingly at the other presents. Apparently these would be opened the next day. It was time for bed.
Even though I arrived from Korea in February, my parents kept the tree up until I finally came home. Fortunately, it was an artificial tree, so there was no fire hazard. While I don't remember much of the trip "home", I do remember the dog, and the tree quite vividly. I still have that bracelet. This was my first Christmas in the US--possibly my first ever.
