I swear I have been very close to ringing that fat jolly old elf's neck on many occasions recently. Let's see, one night the heat goes out and the tally is an icy 59 degrees by 7 am before the tech can come out and fix it -- with a full house of guests.
Another episode includes our chocolate Labrador Retriever eating a whole hot dog off of our kitchen counter during dinner. And finally since our hotel is full at capacity, no vacancy in this house, every bedtime includes a battle with our sons since they refuse to sleep in the same room. Dylan trains for the Olympic Gymnastics Team by tumbling off the giant air mattress in his room all the while Michael reprimands him.
And in the days leading up to Christmas, Santa keeps hearing contradictory requests from Michael. Seriously, he's had all year to drum up his wish list and he has been deliberate about wanting an orange remote controlled car. Then in the final days he starts underscoring his wish for a blue remote controlled car, a red remote controlled car, a yellow remote controlled car! Each day is a new color added to the rainbow of desired motorized cars. Ugh! Believe me, it takes some re-convincing Michael that since he has asked Santa for an *orange* remote controlled car, Santa is probably working on it even though he kept changing his mind on the color of the treasure he desired. Blue? Red? "No, no," we assure Michael, "it is probably orange and if you keep changing your mind you might be disappointed." Sigh.
Hustle bustling, emotions overflowing, delicacy creating, and Christmas spirit transpiring.
But there is also love.
We are lucky that we have family from all over, near and far, celebrating with us this year. My family from West Virginia make the trip to Chicago. All the way from the Appalachian mountains whose supernatural beauty keep you intrigued from day well into the vast sky of stars at night as you gaze across their landscape. We were also joined by my family from bright California where surfing and warm sun is life. Our family nearby, even down the street, join us to celebrate Christmas day. For this we are blessed. Even in all the craziness. I will fold up this Christmas with all its moments and tuck it away in my mental treasury.
Among the typical ongoing CF treatments for the boys and the scramble that Christmas always brings, there are moments to cherish. The kids playing touch football in the basement with Uncles. The first time my nephew from Los Angeles sees and plays in snow. The smell of my family's traditional Christmas coffee cake on Christmas Eve, fragrant throughout the house. There are so many special moments.
We have a Christmas Eve for the memory books... filled with dancing white flakes all day from the gray Chicago sky. I love white Christmas's and this one didn't disappoint. Late morning on Christmas Eve, the kids and the biggest kids (the adults) go sledding across the street at the park.
The adventurers bound through the door with stories and laughter. The kids' hands are icy and their noses and cheeks are magenta. Hot chocolate is the request... and I deliver warm, steaming mugs around the kitchen table.
Without a pause, we move on to cookie decorating under the warm glow of the kitchen lights. There is creamy Betty Crocker frosting and sprinkles of every kind. The kids design all types of cookies, from sinister snow man sugar cookie creations to pretty, decorative Christmas trees. All in preparation of the big man's visit down that chimney that night.
Child-like giggles and booming voices plume through my house. I watch the concentration on Michael's face as he adorns his white frosted tree sugar cookie and the sweet, delicate smile of my niece as she creatively places black stripes on her sugar cookie candy cane. My nephew flashes his bright smile as he recalls his sledding experience and gets a little help from his dad with his cookie creations. My mother looks on with joy, and I imagine her heart bursting with the love only a grandmother can feel with all four of her grandkids boisterously chatty around the project.
Then we decide to check the iPhone app that tracks Santa's every GPS movement through India and China. As the evening wears on, the kids keep insisting that I check on his geolocation so there is no room for doubt that he is on his way. I knew I shouldn't have purchased that app. It becomes a nag.
Soon the evening winds down, the appetizers are put away, and the lights are dimmed. It is time for little heads to hit their little pillows. Once the kids are all tucked in their beds, the magic begins. But even magic has its flaws. Like the massive train set that doesn't fit any table in our house, but still requires Santa to set it up before the kiddies awake in the morning. Great. Didn't see that one coming. A train set too large to set up on anything else than my dining room table. But the certified train engineers, Daddy and Uncle, together work diligently to crack the code and build a train set up that is worthy of a medal... just minus a few pieces. I glaze the final frosting on the cinnamon coffee cake and head to bed.
Christmas morning is a surprisingly even paced morning for gift opening. No frenzy here. Michael wakes up first, and gently and respectfully whispers, "Daddy... Daddy!" The loudest hissy whisper gets our attention but thankfully leaves everyone else still in slumber. Michael's eyes are flickering with light and rapidly scan everything as he hurries down the foyer stairs. He passes the train set that Santa has left for Dylan and heads into the family room. There he sees presents wrapped in candy cane and peppermint paper. His eyes grow big. He goes through his stocking with care. Michael meticulously lines up each prized candy cane as he removes it delicately from the magic stocking.
Next, he rips into his neatly wrapped gifts, crunching the paper and discarding it on the floor. We watch Michael's thrill receiving his space ship and his orange remote controlled car, his requests from Santa "Open it, open it!" I am floored that he hasn't woken up Dylan yet or my nephew. Then we realize as Daddy opens the car's packaging...
Santa didn't get a 9Volt battery.
Santa was told by his elves doing reconnaissance work at Toys R Us that this particular car already had a specialty battery included. But it turns out that, nope, it doesn't take a specialty battery and, nope, a 9Volt battery is most certainly not included. Seriously?! Christmas morning and we don't have a 9Volt anywhere in the house. I am calculating my options, the best-sounding one right now includes taking a battery out of our smoke detectors. It's almost that panicked. Then we realize if we can track down an old dumpy toy, last year's remote controlled car (yes, completely ridiculous) then we can get the newly delivered car from Santa to work. The frenzy to find the damn battery ensues. As Michael's whining and impatience continues, the other kids actually make their way downstairs one at a time... receiving the gifts they wished for. Dylan is totally disinterested in the gifts and goes the entire day without opening one gift, although Michael gladly opens all of Dylan's presents. Instead, Dylan plays with his favorite bowling pins he has been focused on for weeks. Standard.
AHa! We find the 9Volt battery and load it up into the prized new toy. And VROOM! It scurries across my foyer floor. Slam! Right into the wall, nicking the buff wall paint with a charcoal streak. Awesome. Wouldn't be Christmas without more damage to the house. We exchange gifts with our family and Michael adores his presents. "Cool!" he exclaims at his new calendar from his Gigi (my mother). He is constantly asking me about what day it is and now he can figure it out all by himself with his very own calendar. He is unrelenting about opening it and wanting to put it together, which we continue to redirect his attention to other things since the calendar has at least a million pieces likely to meet their fate in the bottom of a garbage bag of discarded wrapping paper if we are not careful. The calendar is the perfect project for the new year... when he is quiet and well-mannered, not shouting, "more, more presents!" while jumping up and down.
The day continues with a visit to my husband's family, with more breakfast and gifts. More love to go around. We have another lovely brunch and the boys receive other treasures including new sleds, games, and even toy golf clubs from their Nonna and Papa (my husband's parents). Other than bowling, Dylan just loves golfing. He will find any utensil in a stick form and something resembling a ball and play 18 holes around our house on any given day.
The clubs also come with their risks. Even though they are padded for safety, my boys find the one way to use these for injury. Just yesterday Dylan hits Michael in the head with the one non-foam portion of the club. Immediately a large egg swells on Michael's blonde head. Thankfully, I am able to intervene as I see Michael drawing his club back to retaliate. My quick reflexes get me their just in time before there is further harm to either kid. Fantastic. I hope that this isn't the trend.
To cap off our Christmas Day, we have an Open House to celebrate with our extended family. My kitchen swirls with energy. And a buffet of unimaginable tasty delights lines my counters and tables. Sweet food. Hot food. Hearty food. Finger food. Dessert food. You name it. We have it. As I look around at the feast, I can only imagine the volume of leftovers that will be crammed into my fridge when it's all said and done. I take a swig of my Cabernet. And I certainly do not need these calorie-packed treats for my waistline as I stare down the barrel of 2011. But the mingling and the warmth around my house, reminds me how very lucky I am. The adults bantering and the kids playing are the authentic reminders that this is what it's all about.
It's about the joy, the wonder, and yes, it is also about the panic, the worry, the scrambling around for a 9Volt battery, and of course, it's about the EXCESS.
It's a lot. A lot of food. A lot of gifts. A lot of stress. A lot to handle. And day filled with a lot of family.
Family near.
Family far.
Family in heaven.
Family who can't be with you but are in your heart.
Family that are friends by definition but in your heart you know are also your family.
It's about taking that family and taking these moments into the new year to embark on unseen adventures, to create new memories and and to find more love.
As I notice and wipe the chocolate crumbs off my shirt, while gazing at the twinkling tree lights, I know it just wouldn't be Christmas without it. All of it.
Thanks for sharing. Your post made me feel as though I was there Christmas morning. you truly have amazing talent. Love reading your blog.
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