The Holidaze, Part Three, - The Apocalypse.

Friday morning, December 23, 2011. This day, so I am told, according to the Mayan calendar is the first day of the end of the world. Maybe the Mayans were not as far off from the truth as we thought. Upon waking up, I felt a twinge of pain in the toes of my left foot. It was a foretelling of things to come in the very near future. I initially thought that I may have suffered a bad cramp in my sleep but after a couple of hours I was limping badly and the foot had swollen to twice the normal size. It quickly progressed from a twinge to excruciating pain. I Googled the symptoms and  determined it was either a stress fracture in the foot, or maybe bursitus. Not having time to deal with it properly I took a pain killer and tried to get all the other work that was needed to be completed before zero hour arrived.

My wife Dessy and I had gotten all the presents we wanted for the children, and I had stashed them out in the SUV so the kids could not find them. We carefully planned out what present to buy for Josh, finding the perfect balance of a fun, educational and affordable toy. Oh, and it would not kill anyone if it actually performed a needed function in the home.

Josh has always been interested in the vacuum cleaner, and when I saw a shiny red Dirt Devil on clearance for 10 dollars, I knew I was going to be a hero in a little boys eyes. When I got home, I wrapped all the presents, and hid them away.

Christmas eve arrived and I put all of it under the tree. Josh was very curious and asked me who the big box was for. "Why, now that you ask Josh, it is for your little brother because we could only afford one gift and we decided it was best to give it to the kid who could not talk well enough to voice his disappointment."
Josh, being used to this sort of answer by now ignored me and asked what was in the big box. Just to shut him up, I replied that it was a garage door opener. Josh seemed to accept this with out further investigative type interrogation. I thought that was the end of it, until a couple of hours later Josh came to me and informed me that the fake Christmas tree was defective enough that it managed to rip a piece of the wrapping paper off of the garage door opener present. I tried to hide my smirk and called out to Dessy, " Hon! Josh told me the tree is trying to open the presents! Maybe we can train it to open the mail too!  Dessy muttered something like "Ahh staga naga!" which either means "God Help me." or Why didn't I marry a doctor instead of guy who thinks he is funny?"

As Josh became more excited about the big event, he became increasingly naughty and so I resorted to a tactic that I am not proud of. Overt threats. "Josh, Stop dropping F-bombs, Santa knows you are being naughty." or "Josh! Stop hitting your brother, Santa will give all your presents to starving kids in China!" OK, I admit, sometimes I mix the metaphors and it may not actually deliver the message that was trying to convey. 

Evening rolled around and we head out to the Church for a candle light service. We sat in the pew and Josh noticed that there had been a pre service mixer with cookies and other finger foods. While we were singing   "Oh Holy Night" Josh dashed off and he came trotting back up with a plate of cookies and crackers. He was nice about it, and shared crackers with his brother, but managed to eat two large cookies. Then the pastor announced that the kids had a special treat and to come on up and get it. Josh came back with another sugary treat. Service ended and the boy was starting to get his sugar high on. He went to say goodbye to the pastor and came back with yet ANOTHER cookie. The pastor had just made a comment to my wife about how wonderful it was to have Josh sing in the kids choir the week before and how maybe next year he will not run laps around the stage and hold his ears in mock pain while the other kids were singing. At this point, Josh is literally running all over the church and was making overly loud jet engine sounds. It was not looking like we were going to get him to bed early.

We arrived home and Josh asked for the fifteenth time if it was Christmas yet. I explained that It was close, but if he was still awake when Santa came, then our house would be passed over and no presents would be found in the morning.I then took Josh to the bedroom, sat him and his brother down and tried to explain the true meaning of Christmas by reading "TheNativity". Then I read "Twas the Night Before Christmas" which in retrospect may not have helped drive the message home how Jesus was born in a manger, not delivered by Santa's sleigh.

The boys fell asleep and I began to assemble the presents that needed it. By 2 a.m. I was done and Dessy and I were ready to go to sleep. Maybe it was the fatigue, or maybe it is my twisted and tortured nature, but I had an idea on how to really get Josh excited about Santa. I took a string of sleigh bells that I have, and stood outside of Josh's window and shook them with all my might. I bellowed out, "HO HO HO, Merrrrrrryyyyy Christmas!" I heard Josh cry out, Mommy it is SANTA!!!" I then fired off a few rounds from my shotgun and yelled, "Get the HELL off my roof and take those over grown goats with you!"
I came back inside to find a wide eyed little boy who looked very confused. I did not say a word, and went to bed. I figured that Josh was smart enough to draw his own conclusions.

The next morning we slept til about 7 and got the kids up to see their reaction. Josh loved his presents, and Johnathan being only 14 months, was experiencing his first Christmas with a tree and presents. It was not long until there was piles of ripped up wrapping paper, boxes that the toys were in, ad toys them selves strewn all over the living room.  I was expecting the kids to be in a state of bliss, but I could not have been more wrong. It turns out that if you give kids a few presents, they do not grab hold of the of Peace on Earth, Good will to Men concept, but rather they become even more greedy and selfish. One kid crying, the other kid standing in the corner tell me that I daddy, not Josh that was being naughty. It was just horrible.

Dessy was upset with me all of a sudden, because somehow all this was my fault. Never mind that we had gone together to buy the presents, and Dessy had gone off script with a couple of items. It was still my fault. I pointed out that I had not received any presents and was not acting out at all, but Dessy who had been given the most romantic holiday gift I could think of; an electric donut maker, was not being a good little girl and was actually starting to irritate the heck out of me. I would have told her if she is a bad girl that Santa might take her presents back. She quietly but firmly mentioned that Santa was not likely to come back after the  shotgun episode anyway. I knew I had lost the war on this one, so I just moved on.

The day after Christmas, Dessy wanted to go out for the big sales. My foot was starting to feel better so I was willing to walk around and brave the crowds. I personally hate this part of the holiday, because I always do the same things. I go buy an armload of Christmas lights at half price, forget about them for a few years and invariably end up giving a big box of brand new 5 year old lights to someone who can use them. Tonight we were out doing the shopping and I decided to go to a local Christmas light attraction known as the Greeley Griswolds. We sat out in front of the house, listening to the radio and the home coordinated musical selection that matched the lighting sequences. We stopped at McDonald's on the way, got a bag of chicken nuggets and french fries.

As we sat there munching away, watching the lights flash as the kids squealed in delight, I looked at my kids, my car full of Wal-Mart half price lights and ornaments, the smell of cold McDonald's food mixing with the smell of one of the kids soiled and stinky diapers wafting about me. I had a revelation that washed over me like a wave. I could not have asked for a better Christmas.

Next up, the count down to new years. 

The Holidaze, Part 2

The last few shopping days are upon us, and of course we just sat until nearly the last minute. This is what the retailers live for, the procrastinators waiting for the chance to get the best deals, when in reality all the good cheap stuff is gone and all that is left it wrapping paper and plastic fasteners for the Christmas lights. If you want a gift for the wife that won't keep you in the doghouse til next Christmas, you are going to have to pony up the cash there Sparky! And spend cash you will, despite your good intentions to not end up having to skip a utility payment or two in order to avoid making it a holiday that you will remember with all the fondness of the time you got your first colonoscopy.

A week or two ago when the kids got to take pictures with Santa, Josh asked for a bicycle. Santa looked up at me with a pleading look so I could slightly nod an affirmation that Josh indeed would be getting a bike. Santa's face fell when I took a look of indifference and said " Don't look at me buddy boy, if you were real, you would know if he is getting one or not!" Well, that set the tone for the rest of the day, and as we walked away, I looked back and snidely remarked that Santa should maybe stop having the three martini lunches before showing up for a photo op.

Josh got pretty excited about getting a bike, which was totally not in the game plan for us. So last night we decided to go pick out a couple of gifts at the Toys-R-Us for the boys. We knew what we wanted and got the last one on the shelf. Lucky for us there was no real pushing or shoving, or people breaking out the pepper spray to ward us off. Maybe that only happens at the Wal-mart.
After we got the toy in the cart I took Josh to see the bicycles. We put him on one with training wheels and I gave him a good shove to get him going. Josh fell right over and when I tried to force him back in the saddle he said 'Daddy, I am scared." In my most loving and fatherly voice, I then suggested that perhaps he was not ready for a bike after all. Josh said, "Yea, I am too little still."  "Josh, that is OK." I said. "Santa will bring you something else that you like." Now I am not admitting that this was all part of my cunning plan. But it worked out in my favor all the same.

When we were headed home it started to snow pretty hard. I was driving the sedan, and it was pretty slick out. I was not worried about it though, we would make it home and I still have my old SUV which plows through anything. If you can start it, that is.  Which this morning I could not. The battery had died and so I put it on the charger. While I cleaned off the driveway. I had gotten about halfway through the right side of the driveway when I heard geese honking overhead then what sounded like the pitter patter of Santa's little elves. For the record, it was not elves. I was able to duck into the garage before needing to rewash my hair, but it was a close call. I finished up shoveling the driveway then started up the Trooper and high tailed it over to the store to get a new battery.

As I stood in the parking lot with no coat and my hands freezing, I worked on replacing the battery muttering incessantly "You know what is more fun that having an SUV for the bad snow storms? Having the battery die and you are out in the Sam's Club parking lot changing the battery in 19 degree weather and snow with no gloves, that's what!
Apparently it was a very sorry sight because a Salvation Army bell ringer came over and gave me a few of bucks and told me to go get a bottle of Thunderbird to help be make it though the cold winters night. I really did not think I was that shabbily dressed, but maybe my wife was right about retiring my favorite old jeans and  my sun faded tattered "It's a Pepsi Generation" T-shirt.

Maybe Santa will know what to bring.

The Holidaze, Part 1

The holiday season has descended upon this family and I really have mixed feelings.
I love the whole thing, Thanksgiving, Christmas lights, lighting the menorah for Chanukah, the kids excitement about the decorations, and The New Years celebration. Not to mention the stress, the extra work, the increased debt load, and 43,000 extra calories I am plastering on my hips. As the children grow and show their delight, it makes it all worthwhile, right?

Please someone, tell me I am right!

Financially, we are in a lean season like so many other people. So I try and plan activities that are relatively cheap or even free. One of my favorites is going to see the holiday lights, a virtual freebie. Sometimes it does not work out as well as I would hope. Last night we drove down to the Denver capitol to see how nicely the Civic Center was lit up. Unfortunately we got there before the turned on the lights. Instead of getting to see the warm glow of thousands of little light bulbs, we got to see the Occupy Wall Street Protestors all lined up in their makeshift tents and boxes. It was a sad sight, because I did not see actual protesting. Rather I saw a lot of younger folks sitting around playing cards, and smoking like trains. Josh looked over the sight, seeing the garbage and tarps strewn all over. He asked me about who all the people were. Not wanting to reveal my true feelings, and break the holiday spirit, I just told him that they were some of Santa's elves. Josh looked a little confused, then asked, "Daddy, are elves all potheads? That one over there is lighting a joint!"

Now, given how many toys are advertised for Christmas, it is natural that the boys will want all the toys they see on display. The way I deal with this is with something that I like to call it the "Try It, But Never Buy It" maneuver. The way it works is that right before we leave for the store, I make the kid drink a quart of water. When we get to the store, I put Josh in the shopping cart and push him through the toy section of the store. I let him look until he sees a toy he wants to try out. I give it to him then as he plays with it, I walk him around a while until he realizes that he cannot live without it. By this time, the kid has to go pee. Then I wait 15 minutes until the Josh is desperate to not wet himself. He gets so distracted by this that I can put the toy back on the shelf and he does not realize what has happened until we are on the way back home.


Our three year old, Josh recently came home from Sunday school with a note instructing the parents that he was going to perform a couple of songs the next week and that we needed to ensure he would learn the song before arriving at the service. I sat with josh and taught him the words and tune to "Angels We Have Heard On High". Our sessions went well, as Josh is a fast learner, and soon Josh had the words and tune memorized. We were quite proud of our little boy.
Until the performance that is.
At the appointed time, Josh went up to stand with the kids, got in his appointed place and the music started. I lifted up my camera to get the video, and suddenly Josh was nowhere to be seen. I looked again and he was rolling on the floor. He got up and decided that he needed to inspect the back of the stage and started running laps around the rest of the choir. I was helpless, and had to curb my impulse to yell, "Get the hell back on the stage!" but of course I was in church and somehow that would label me as the "bad daddy". Josh then, satisfied that the back of the stage was fine, walks to the front of the choir and holds his hands over his ears. At this point I tried to sink into my chair, so no other parent would look at me and blame me for allowing my rotten kid to ruin their little snowflakes performance. As soon as the song was over, Josh came running back to my chair and said too loudly, "Daddy, I have to pee!" This was my chance and we snuck out the back of the church where soon there would be wailing and knashing of teeth, at least for Josh. I sat Josh down in a corner and defined proper performance behavior. He looked up at me with the "I am not listening to you daddy, and you may as well get used to it" face.

He's 3, whaddya do?