Christmas Break: Week 1

Week 1
The verdict: Nice. Both boys awaken this morning excited and ready to see whether or not Santa has come while they slept. Sailor says he heard Santa’s sleigh bells. Mac says he thought he heard something taking off from the roof. Mac checks out their Naughty or Nice charts and finds the word “NICE” written on both.

I have Aunt M go into Nana and GrandDad’s living room before the children so she can capture their faces on video when they see that Santa Claus has indeed delivered. All the StarWars toys they had asked for and then some lie at the foot of the shining Christmas tree.

Over the course of two hours my children open all manner of toys, clothing and books. Mac has been completely outfitted in clothing from socks and underwear to jeans, sweaters, a vest and hats, pajamas, slippers and a robe. Sailor has new shirts, sweaters, jeans and pj’s. My children are gracious and gave appropriate hugs and thank yous. Even for the socks, I am hugged warmly.
Mr. Potato Head makes an impressionable appearance as Darth Tater and then later outfitted as a Mermaid and Mr. Claus himself.

Aside from the StarWars theme there is a starring role played by Curious George (for Sailor, a car floor mat, a bath set, bubble bath, and a long sleeved t-shirt) and some monkey things that Sailor interprets as George. There is also a supporting role played by Cars. The DVD, a Viewmaster for Mac and a book and a tiny flashlight, which Sailor picked out himself.

Both boys did a great deal of their own shopping this year. They chose for me necklaces, Starbucks cards, a Starbucks coffee tumbler, and JoJo, Josh Groban and BEEGEES CDs!!!! I got five CDs. I also have the most beautiful Andy Warhol style handprint 2007 wall calendar made by both boys at the art studio last week, as well as a hand beaded bracelet made by Mac and a cork board for the kitchen decorated by Sailor at preschool.

I have coffees, teas, and at least 5 new lip glosses. I have the full set of Clinique facial wash system, long johns, and a GC to our fave restaurant chain.

The boys get a huge tool bench that looks frighteningly real and puzzles and books and all sorts of tiny things that will be lost in no time. Mac has a new down comforter to keep him warm in his chilly bedroom, when he sleeps in there.

Sailor asked for and receives a StarWars X-Wing Fighter, “with slime on the top of it!” and Mace Windu and C3-PO. Mac gets his Darth Vader’s advanced TIE Fighter.

Sailor also receives his coveted Batman Belt, a utility belt that his tiny waist will not hold up.
Mac spends most of the day dressed up in the Police costume Sailor chose for him but Sailor has yet to notice the Word Whammer spelling magnet thingy on the fridge that Mac picked out for him (with Mommy’s help).

They get a snowball maker and a package of make-your-own fake snow, Sailor gets a grabber arm from Mac, a farm garden from me, I get sheets and a Simon game, which I’ve been wanting for years! It just goes on and on…!
The amount of gifts my children have received, especially given our current financial troubles, is staggering and embarrassing. Not to mention overwhelming, as I am now charged with the task of finding places for all these new toys to live (which we worked on for awhile yesterday morning by finally agreeing that it’s time to move the Rescue Heroes downstairs for a vacation).

We have breakfast here and when Mac said he is too sick to finish eating I take his temperature. No fever. When he passes out the rest of the gifts, the ones we had piled up all around our 12” tree, he reads every name and passes the gifts carefully. Then he says he feels much better.

My mom puts out a beautiful buffet, as usual. Late in the evening I am feeding Sailor, who has just woken up from a late nap on the sofa. He likes the corn casserole and asks, “Mommy, please you buy this?”
“I made this, Sweetie,” I tell him.
“Then please you make it again sometimes?”
Of course!
He likes the spinach frittata, too.
“When I was two I didn’t like spinach,” he tells us, “but now I am three (he holds up three fingers) and I like spinach.”

To their credit, my children are extremely well-behaved today, especially this evening. It helps, no doubt, that they have their new Polar Express DVD to watch as well as the DVD that came with Sailor’s new GEOtracks trains set. They also have so much to play with. We play a round of Topple, and in fact both boys stay engrossed for quite some time in the coffee-table sized StarWars book Santa brought Mac.

Oh, and they get Slinkeys too, which when Mac sees his he says, “A spring!”

It’s now past midnight. The radio station continues to play Christmas songs, which is nice. Years ago they stopped around 9 or 10:00 p.m., which was a huge bummer as we used to drive a long distance home from the home of a friend of my mom’s.
There are two gigantic bags in my hallway stuffed with wrapping paper and boxes and bows and packaging. There are toys strewn about my house. Leftovers in the fridge and two beautiful boys dressed in soft, warm, brand-new footy pj’s that make them look like the babies they once were and still are to me, asleep in their beds, exhausted form a very full and exciting day, week, two weeks … life!

Merry Christmas!

Friday night. Mac comes into the bathroom this evening and asks me, “Mom, what will Sailor be to my kids?”
“He’ll be their uncle,” I tell him.
“No, what will his name be?”
“Uncle Sailor.”
“Oh,” he is clearly disappointed.
“What did you want it to be?”
“I thought it would be like Aunt M,” he says.
“You thought his name would be Aunt M?”
“No, I thought it would be Aunt Sailor.”

End of the week. Actually end of the tear. I mean, year. Accidental Freudian slip? Perhaps. Perhaps just poor typing skills.

December 31, 2006. It’s just another new year’s eve, an auld lang sine like all the rest…. Except it’s not. It’s been a hell of a year. Despite all the things that were fun and exciting, like Mac’s first day of kindergarten, like the birth of so many friends’ babies, like my newfound love of the Bee Gees, like the fact that Sailor wrote his own name on my mom’s birthday card yesterday (a full year before Mac was able to write his), like the fact that we are all still whole and alive and together, despite all that there has been a black cloud over the year that I wish, more than anything, would dissipate in the next day, bringing clarity and a newfound sense of relief and security to our world. But I don’t expect that to happen. Because our world is at war and in a state of turmoil and there is nothing one single terrified mom can do about it. Except continue to breathe, which is what I will do. Every day.

Meanwhile, it’s 8:52 a.m. on New Year’s Eve day. I somehow managed to get out of bed, shower, dress, put on makeup and repaint my toenails, which I had pedicured yesterday (but had to put plastic baggies and socks over too soon before they were dried) before either of my well-behaved young men detected my presence. They play blissfully in their room, despite Mac’s earlier question, “Mom, can we sleep all day today?” to which I nodded my head against my pillow.

Today we are going to Target to buy Mama a new pair of boots, which I hadn’t really realized I needed until yesterday. My mom’s 69th birthday. My sister and I took her out. She needed a glam new haircut, so we went to HairCuttery, the inexpensive place that is in my budget. “If it’s good enough for me,” I tell my mom, “It’s good enough for you.” She begins to protest, sees the error of her ways and remembers aloud that I can be particular about my hair, thus exonerating my choice of salon. Mom looks fab and glam when we leave. We take her boot shopping and convince her to purchase two pair. My broke sister sinks a month’s pay into a pair for herself, ditching the mules that have cracked across the sole. I realize just how beat up my own trendy black boots are, but find nothing in the fashionable store that either fits or feels good. My sis treats Mom to a birthday manicure and pedicure, which continues to please her, no end. We have provided quite the excellent birthday full of surprises for Mom. At night we refresh our makeup and head to our local fave pizza place, which happens to have an all-you-can-eat salad bar. My father, not usually one to have his head in the gutter, has chosen this theme for Mom’s 69th. We love it and run with it and I have planned a small dinner party at said pizza place. We are glam, for sure and my boys are wearing trendy shirts and jeans and look like something out of a magazine, especially my little one, who has a fashionable hat and a pair of Italian shoes on, as well. Mom’s friends wonder if we had our makeup done today too, and I take that to mean we look good.

I can’t help but marvel at the speed of aging, however. I apply my own makeup and find flaws in my face. Sure, the new Clinique 3-step program has given me my softest face is decades, but there are things that just don’t look as young as the whole package. And Mom is 69. It’s happening and we can’t stop it and I need to put it out of my head and just make my life as fabulous as possible. Don’t waste a minute!

So this week Mac said he didn’t feel well. What’s wrong? What hurts? He thinks carefully before replying, “My brain cell.”

Today I have given my children a fun dressing option. They can wear whatever they please. Mac is in his ugly shirt, a blue sport-style pullover that is hideous, and tan cords. The shirt is too small. Sailor has yet to dress himself. He’s still in pj’s. which would be a fine choice except it’ll be tomorrow’s choice. We will be dining a la pj’s at our fave tapas restaurant for brunch on New Year’s Day! For today I have chosen ripped jeans and a flowered button up shirt, topped with my SuperMommy shirt, a grey baby doll tee with a camo and silver glitter Superman logo on the front. We are a trendy, stylin’ family today! Mac still needs a haircut and I have been instructed to purchase a package of attachments for the buzzer and continue to try to cut this mop myself. It truly, truly sucks to be broke! We haven’t seen one single “voluntary” child support payment this month. Of all months! The fridge remains full from good planning, parental assistance, and small appetites. The bills are stacking up. The children’s classes will begin again in a week and I have no money with which to pay for them. It’s time to get creative I think. Though I am not quite sure how….

My holiday letter will serve as my annual year in review. But doesn’t include two very recent events: former President Ford died this week at age 92; and former Iraqi Dictator Saddam Hussein was hanged by his own government two nights ago. Only time will tell how one or both of these events may further shape our world.

So we go out today, to Target. It's a mob scene. Far worse than any of the days immediately preceding Christmas. Great deals, though. We replenish the wrapping paper, bow and tag stash for next year. I find my boots on clearance. And the kids sucker Mama into two more little StarWars guys. The ones Santa apparently forgot! Oops! We are there way too long and make far too many sweeps around the warm, crowded store. Stay here long enough and you’ll eventually find everything you need, I say aloud. Shoppers are friendly and many answer my voiced musings. We find what we need to host our annual New Year’s Day Hangover/Leftovers Party tomorrow afternoon. It’s warm out, 52ް F, or so I think the weatherman said. And raining. Weird New Year’s Eve weather, to be sure. Rather nice out, really.

The worst part of today has been the email I received from someone whom I have believed to be good friend. She hates me. She says I have been bitter, angry and negative. The weird part is that I have not seen or talked to her since her wedding four months ago and I have no idea when I even saw her last before that. So where she is getting her ideas from is totally beyond me. I am crushed, yes, but when a so-called friend doesn’t bother to tell you that she is upset with you and doesn’t realize all you are going through (nor has ever seemed to care), I guess when that friendship ends it’s not such a devastating loss. There could always be worse.

Last minute decision, my sister and I take the boys to our local fave restaurant, the one where Mac won the Halloween costume prize. Sailor is still wearing his red footy pj’s, but he tops the outfit off with green crocks, his navy pea coat, and his HoHo hat. We let them order whatever they want. Mac chooses a vanilla shake. Sailor chooses macker cheese. Aunt M orders a plate of popcorn shrimp to share with the table and the kids devour it, or maybe that’s us. I order a cup of soup and change my mind about a fancy drink when I see the $8 price tag. I could go to Starbucks twice for that! We sit for awhile until mine are the only children not sitting nicely and then we leave. We wander to the zoo. Sailor runs ahead in his crazy get-up and we can’t help but laugh at how adorably cute he is. He has the happiest little legs when he is running. They just go in all directions with such glee.

The zoo hands out New Year’s party hats, masks, leis and blowers. Both boys put on their masks. Day glow yellow and black tiger stripes. Sailor is so funny looking that I am seriously regretting my lack of camera tonight. My boys are gleeful as they run thru the lights of the zoo. We toast the New Year with sparkling grape juice in the monkey house. Sailor sings along to some belated Christmas carols and Mac sings what I hope is his last annotated Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer of the season. (And if I hear another “Jingle Bells, Batman smells, Robin laid an egg, Batmobile lost its wheel and Joker played ballet” I am going to have to ask him to return the song to the triplet who taught it to him.)
The boys go to bed easily. They know we are still in holiday mode. This morning Sailor wakes me with, “Merry Christmas,” and then Mac prompts him to tell me, “Happy New Year.” These holiday concepts are hard to grasp for a three-year-old. But he is doing well. Mac is getting it all a little more easily. Both boys are really amazing me with the things they are able to do all of a sudden. Mac is telling time on his new watch (not a digital) and gives me 5-minute reports for about half an hour this afternoon. Not sure why. And he read sus his easy reader from the Cars movie. Sailor writes his name. My babies are moving along in leaps and bounds yet I will still insist on calling them my babies, maybe even when they are taller than I am, which they discussed in the car today. The whole notion of being short but tall for your age and other strange to understand concepts. The coming year is sure to bring a lot more of this sort of growth. I can only begin to imagine all the things that they will learn to do.

4 minutes before midnight. I should wake up Mac. He always wants to stay up all night and here’s the one night I could have let him try. But he was tired. He went to bed and fell right asleep.

Three minutes. Some poor musician is having seizures on stage and calling it a performance. None of my other channels come in clearly enough so I can’t change it.

It’s almost 2007 and this is how I am spending the last moments of 2006.

Happy New Year!