(Y’all had to know I’d use that title. I mean, I’ve been sitting on it for 10 months. And yes, I do know that it should be “feliz.”)
So this was my first real year to be Santa. Sure, we did Santa last year but there isn’t much subterfuge required to fool a two-year-old. I guess I didn’t need that much this year, either, but there was an additional layer of pressure knowing that if she got up and saw me putting together a Weeble Village that the cat would have some ‘splaining to do.
I learned some important things this year – things that I’m sure you veteran parents already knew. For instance, with most toys it’s much worse trying to figure out how to get them out of the packaging than it is to actually assemble them. And trying to do so without making noise? Impossible. The instructions for Felix’s aforementioned Weeble Village indicated that a “snap” sound would occur. The instructions did not indicate that the snap would sound like Indiana Jones’ bullwhip as he leaps over that crevasse while dodging the giant rolling rock. For the bazillionth time in the past few years, I was grateful for the magic of the sound machine in the kids’ room.
And Xmas PJ’s? I love the idea but how practical are they really? Last year Crispi got the whole family matching Xmas PJs. They were lovely things, long and thick and soft and warm. Good god were they warm. It was 80 degrees last Xmas, as I recall. And I was bloated with baby. In short, I will never ever be able to wear those again. But really I’m thinking of kids’ Xmas PJs. Yes, they are abundantly cute. So cute you can’t stand it. But they’re Xmas PJs. It’s absurd. We buy special PJs so that we can take spectacular pics on Xmas morning. Then that’s it. They’re done. Sure, you can wear them again. But Felix is growing faster than kudzu (as did Stella at this stage), there will be no younger siblings to hand-me-down to, and Stella only wants to wear Hello Kitty gear or nightgowns. It’s just not worth the money, methinks.
I’ve also figured out that the Sit and Spin may be the most dangerous toy ever created – even more perilous than the famed Rock ‘Em Sock ‘Em Robots. My kids won’t sit on it. They want to stand and walk on it. Then, the toy does what it’s designed to do: it spins. Resulting in a kid busting his/her ass spectacularly. Stella had a colossal tumble about 11:00 yesterday and even had a nice whelp near her eye for a while. Bad mother that I am, I forgot to see if she had a shiner when I left for work today. I’ve already had to start storing it in the vomitorium. I’m almost hopeful one of the Three Stupid Cats will bust his ass on it.
Will and I had our annual fight about a Christmas Story. Yes. I’m all about the 24 hours straight. As I believe I’ve mentioned before, I don’t sit and watch every second. Dear god, no. It’s just an amusing and nostalgic bit of background noise for me. He hates it. He hates it a lot. It messes with his ADHD. Since he has absolutely no concept of time or time management, it’s like the temporal equivalent of funhouse mirrors. I can see how it can be a bit disconcerting to him. But to get so irritable? Tough. Suck it up. It’s once a year and it makes me happy. Use your ADHD for the power of good and simply don’t pay attention to it.
Finally, I’m renaming the song the “12 Looks of Xmas.” By 10:30 yesterday, my daughter had changed clothes at least a dozen times, leaving a mound of discarded dresses, pants, and tops. Each and every time she would unwrap a new garment, she would stop all activity, strip down, and don the new gay apparel. It was cute but a bit obnoxious.
Anyway, we did all make merry. It was a splendid Xmas. I’m hoping that all of you out there had some joy yourselves. Now it’s time to gather our forces for the undecking of the halls and the return trip to “normal.”