December 2009 – My Truant Pen

2009 in review

One of my friends posted this. I generally don’t do memes here (memes are internet quizzes that tend to get copied around between various people), but this one asks some good questions and I didn’t have some OTHER brilliant idea for what to write about today. So here you go!

2009 In Review

1. What did you do in 2009 that you’d never done before?
Made apple butter and ate radishes. All the other examples are things that I probably don’t want to admit that I have ever done, mostly related to Thane’s health and comfort. We took the boys camping, which turned out to be a completely awesome thing to do. And for the first time, I had a relative live with me for an extended period (my brother). Dim sum.

2. Did you keep your New Year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
I made a resolution to do my best to serve a vegetable with every single meal (well, lunch and dinner) even if no one else will eat them. I’ve actually been really successful with this, even though no one else eats them. At least it’s meant that *I* eat more veggies. I lack a good articulation of what I’d like to do next year.

3. Did anyone close to you have a child?
Both my neighbors had babies this year, and several of my internet friends. There were also some sweet little babies at church, with more on the way. Whee!

4. Did anyone close to you die?
My father-in-law died about 10 months ago. The “firsts” without him have been hard. We miss him a lot.

5. Where did you travel?
This wasn’t a year for wild adventurous travel. We went to Atlanta in May, Washington State and Victoria BC in summer, and New Hampshire for camping. (Hey honey! I just remembered… you need to renew your passport. This reminder brought to you by the hours we spent sitting in the passport office in Seattle this summer….)

6. What would you like to have in 2010 that you lacked in 2009?
A ____ where I am more ____ and ___ than I am at my current ____. Also, a big exciting international adventure. Also also, I’d really like to see my friends down in DC.

7. What dates from 2009 will remain etched upon your memory?
Dude. I still can’t remember my eldest’s birthdate. I would say it was the night my father in law died, but I’d be lying because I only vaguely remember which month that was, although I remember with cristal clarity listening to my husband pick up the phone and hear that his father had died — a day before he was going to fly down to see him.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
Most of the things I’m striving for are longer term than a year, and none of them really came to fruition this year. I’ve been working towards raising two wonderful young men (time horizon: 20 years), building a vibrant church that serves Christ and humanity with joy and enthusiasm (time horizon: forever), and creating a strong and joyful marriage (time horizon: my lifetime). Maybe I need a few shorter term goals, eh? Oh, I did learn Flex at work?!

9. What was your biggest failure?
I am not very fit or strong or in shape. It gets hard to do everything else if your body is not adequately attended to.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
No, I’m really pretty darn healthy.

11. What was the best thing you bought?
I got this glass teapot with these jasmine tea flowers that unfurl. I’ve been looking for just the perfect tea setup, and I finally found it. I’m just happy every time we use it. Add to that “St. Petersburg” and you get some of my happiest quiet evenings, even though I always lose. Also, bras that fit.

12. Whose behavior merited celebration?
Grey has been fantastic this year. He was really difficult a year ago during the summer, but he’s really hit his stride since. He’s polite, charming, interested and interesting, funny, affectionate and generally a joy to be around.

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
I’ve been really disappointed by the willingness of Americans of all stripes to accept their labels “Conservative” or “Liberal” and then make all subsequent decisions based on that identity. I’ve been disappointed with all our politicians from both sides of the aisles for playing politics instead of making the best possible governing decisions. I have not yet understood whether it is not possible to govern for the people the way our system is currently organized, or whether they choose not to do so. I do feel that the media, by handicapping the political horserace instead of discussing the substance of the issues being debated, has furthered this tendency.

Also, I really wish we were better people than to pay so much attention to the private lives of others whom we’ve never met. Frankly, it’s none of my business how Tiger Woods chooses to comport himself. And I still haven’t figured out WHY Paris Hilton is a celebrity.

14. Where did most of your money go?
I’ve been asking myself this question a LOT lately. It believe the top four largest are the mortgage, taxes, childcare and charitable donations.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?
Christmas comes to mind! Ooh ooh! I know! Hiking the West Side of the Wonderland Trail. I was vibrating for 24 hours at having gotten the perfect itinerary at the last minute. It was AWESOME.

16. What song will always remind you of 2009?
The Symphony of Science MP3s became favorites this year.

17. Compared to this time last year, are you: a) happier or sadder? b) thinner or fatter? c) richer or poorer?
I remain generally quite happy. I don’t really think I can be much happier on a regular basis than I am. I am, sadly, no thinner nor fatter. (This time last year I was 2 months postpartum, so one would HOPE I’d be thinner. One would be wrong.) I definitely think our expenses to income ratio is higher this year, due to the second childcare issue.

18. What do you wish you’d done more of?
I would like to have read more books (well, of the non-Sandra-Boynton variety) and gotten more exercise.

19. What do you wish you’d done less of?
Being anxious. Also, I should never call my parents before dinner on Friday night.

20. How did you spend Christmas?
I spent it with my boys. Thane the clingy with his ear infection, my husband with the Kindle he just got, Grey rotting his brains out with video games. I even got to play some video games myself!!! The joy of the boys was a great delight.

21. Did you fall in love in 2009?
I deepened my love for my laddies. I did fall in love with suated radishes and plum jam. I did many things that I love, but few of them were new.

22. What was your favorite TV program?
I don’t watch much TV. I did enjoy the Avatar dvds. I like most of the Discovery Channel programming. Baseball was really pretty “eh” this year.

23. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?
This is going to sound corny, but the extremists (esp. in Pakistan/Afghanistan) who blow people up in mosques, threaten voters, destroy girl’s schools and demolish their countries’ infrastructure seem beyond the pale. Usually there’s another side to every conflict, but these people seem to be working against everyone, including their own co-religionists, own ethnic group, and own people. I cannot fathom what they are working for, and cannot imagine how they think they are doing good and will end up in heaven when they walk into one of their own holy buildings and open fire on people worshiping there.

24. What was the best book you read?
The two books of the Sarantine Mosaic by Guy Gavriel Kay.

25. What was your greatest musical discovery?
Maddy Prior and the Symphony of Science were my two favorite new music thingies.

26. What did you want and get?
A largely repainted interior of the house!

28. What did you want and not get?
A raise.

29. What was your favorite film of this year?
This would be between “The Blind Side” and the new “Enterprise”. I suspect for staying power, it would be “Enterprise”. I’m angling to watch it again — maybe tonight!

30. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
I turned 31 this year. I believe my husband made me my favorite chocolate cake. Birthday season will likely always mean mine is a moderate celebration.

31. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
My life is generally very satisfying! Is it shallow of me to wish that my online works had been more successful? I would’ve liked it if this blog had gotten a bit bigger audience, or had a post that went viral. I would like it if some of the online work I was doing for my church resulted in more people who are seeking meaning finding it with us.

32. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2009?
Machine wash only.

33. What kept you sane?
I often remind myself that I have agency over my life. The patterns and outlines of my life are ones that I have laid and chosen — and I know I’m lucky that’s the case. Very few of the boundaries of my life are ones that I couldn’t change if I chose, but I am unwilling to accept the sacrifices that would require. That is a choice, even if it is one that might not seem like a choice because I’d never choose otherwise. But it’s always good to remember when I feel greatly bounded that we are usually only trapped by our minds and perceptions, and could generally untrap ourselves if we are willing to sacrifice what we have and take risks. I’m not sure that’s a clear articulation of what I mean (I do not feel trapped, and I do not wish to escape) but knowing that I am where I am because I choose to be is freeing.

34. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
I’m about 20 years behind the times developing a crush on Carl Sagan, but there you have it.

35. What political issue stirred you the most?
The divisiveness of the dialog and inability to find common ground.

36. Who did you miss?
I missed having a best girlfriend next door who loved babysitting and coming over late at night to chat. Pretty much every other slot in my emotional landscape is beautifully peopled.

37. Who was the best new person you met?
I didn’t meet many new people this year. Maybe that’s something I should try to change for next year!

38. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2009.
You keep your balance better when your eyes are on the horizon, not on your feet.

Odometer moments

I’m a big fan of this time of year, media-wise. My non-internet media consumption is pretty much limited to NPR, the Economist, and Dirty Jobs marathons on Discovery (watched while folding the laundry). This time of year NPR starts running stories you KNOW they recorded in October about breeding stocks of White Rhinos and the Economist totally throws in the towel, writes four page spreads on the history of Rice in Japan or the Ponzi Scheme that is the US (all actual examples) and takes a week off.

We’re all given this odometer moment, as the number ticks over, to think back and head. Given that most folks consider this the end of the decade, it’s a bigger odometer moment than usual.

So here I am, taking stock of the year past and the decade past.

The decade past is pretty much my adult life. I think about where I was 10 years ago. I was about to get married, just finishing college, and completely unclear about what I wanted to do when I grew up. Now, I’m happily married, two kids, decent career, and completely unclear about what I want to do when I grow up. In the last ten years I got married, stayed married, have gone through three jobs, and three new homes, bought a house, bought two cars, got pregnant four times and gave birth twice. Since 2003, I’ve documented every detail in painful minutia.

In those 10 years I’ve made mistakes and grown oh-so-much, but I regret pretty much none of it. I’m not sure there’s a single thing I’d go back and make totally different.

Then there’s the looking ahead. Where will I be in 2020? I mean, we’re already impossibly into the future. Will I have my flying car yet? Or at least an electric/hybrid? But in many ways, the outlines of my hopes are much clearer than they were in 2010. I entirely anticipate still being gaga for my husband. My eldest son will be 14, and we will have some insight into what kind of man he is growing into. My Thane will be 11, still a child. My mortgage will still be several eternities away from being paid off, but my student loans will be done. Hopefully, I’ll have renovated the bathroom by then. Maybe I’ll have done that master suite that I daydream about. But where will I be professionally? What great surprises will life hold? What labors and joys will the coming decade bring? Will I still be documenting it all in painful detail (probably)?

And of course, there are the great left-turns life takes. You get a phone call asking if you’ve ever considered going to Mozambique. Or it turns out your child is an incredibly gifted, er, something (musician/athlete/web entreprenuer/face painter) that requires lots of practice (as long as it doesn’t involve ice rinks, I’m happy.). Or an opportunity comes that cannot be passed by. Or a tragedy visits. Or there’s an unanticipated additional child.

I work full time, am an engaged mom, get together with my friends as often as possible, and do a lot with my church. The result of this is that I feel as though I keep my eyes down, and focused on close objects. My thoughts and speech run with the details of daily living. I try as often as I can to raise my eyes and look to the horizons. It is that rising of perspective that make art, literature, music and philosophy so precious. Writing, for me, offers a chance to step back and examine my own life from the larger perspective. Whenever I do that, I feel much happier. The broad strokes of my life are so joyful, even when I might be tired, sleep-deprived, annoyed and snot-covered.

It was a good decade. It was a good year. Here’s hoping it was for you too. And for all of us, past reasonable expectation, may the coming year and decade be full of joy.

It’s official: chronic ear infection

My dominant impression of my youngest’s health is that he’s healthy as an ox. (Also, he weighs as much as an ox, but that’s a separate complaint.) I don’t think I’ve taken a sick day for him yet (knocks on wood). But each time I brought him in for his well-baby appointments after about 6 months, he’d fail the ear check (it seems). I’d go fill the prescription, dose him with Amox-Clav and not pay too much attention. He’d get really fussy. I’d bring him in. His ears would have fluid. We’d recheck. His ears would have fluid.

But this never has seemed to BOTHER him much. Even Thane fussy is a sweet, fun little kid.

But. But but.

The 102.8 on Christmas Eve was a scary high fever, especially since I wasn’t sure of the direction. He stayed hot all through Christmas, before slowly cooling off. And then the crying jags. For 20 minutes he’d scream and writhe and scream and scream and scream. It was horrible. I’d be about ready to scream too. And then he’d notice his favorite toy: a milk jug. Or he’d just suddenly settle. (Of course, many of the screaming jags were punctuated by a dose of Tylenol, which let’s just all admit here and now, Tylenol is a wonder drug.) And he’d pull his ear.

By Christmas, I was pretty sure what was up. Two days after finishing antibiotics for an ear infection which had already drawn the “if this doesn’t clear this up I’m calling it chronic” warning from our pediatrician? No other symptoms? Ear pulling? It didn’t take a genius to figure this one out.

I begged the on call pediatrician for anesthetic eardrops, and waited nearly an hour in Walgreens while they attempted to figure out how to get them to me. And this morning bright and early Thane and his father went to see his doctor to verify our suspicions.

Thane is now on his last-ditch antibiotics and we’re supposed to be lining up surgery for him for ear tubes. Surgery. As in “general anesthetic” and “fasting”. For my baby. Oof.

So, in my role as “mom” I’m spending today fretting. Examples of my frets include:

Is my son’s hearing and verbal development compromised by his constant ear infections? Is THIS why he refuses to say nose? (I doubt it. Did I mention he said “Duck” and “Quack quack” yesterday? And that when I asked him what a duck said, he said “Quack quack”? But only when I can hear him.)

Seriously, surgery?

Doesn’t this mean he’ll have to wear ear plugs whenever he goes swimming?

And general anesthetic?

What sort of problems will we encounter due to the sheer volume of Amox-Clav the child has consumed? (He loves it!)

Has my son been hurting for months and I’ve done too little to help, lulled by his general good nature?

And how cool is it that Mass Eye and Ear is a very short walk from my house?

Answer: Cool. But surgery is uncool.

Oh, my sweet Thane. I’m sorry you spent your second Christmas hurting. I’m sorry that you might have to have surgery. I’m sorry, kiddo. I hope that in future years you’re shocked to learn this was ever an issue.

Pictures for you

For your viewing pleasure, I’ve uploaded the latest pictures up through Christmas!

http://picasaweb.google.com/fairoriana/Christmas2009#

The Warmth of Winter

Christmas Eve was really lovely. I left work at about 1 (with blessings to go). I picked up my sons. Grey and I wrapped presents and made cookies. Thane bopped around as Thane is wont to do. My husband came home early.

But when Thane woke up from his nap, he was shivering. Cheerful. Eating and drinking. But shivering. Curious, I took his temperature. 102.8. WHOA. I proceeded to try to figure out what could possibly be up. Obviously, he couldn’t go to our Christmas Eve service like that. So reluctantly I left my husband behind and took Grey.

Now, when Grey is angry or upset he’ll say, “I don’t want ____” where ____ is his heart’s desire. So for example a regular day will have me saying, “Grey, you need to get into the car right now and stop goofing off.” If he actually HEARS me, which doesn’t happen until about the 80th time, he’ll sometimes get mad and say, “I can never never never play my DS again.” You can almost bet that he’s thinking about his favorite thing: his DS. Well, yesterday he made a small mistake (didn’t listen to an instruction) and when I called him on it, do you know what that child said on Christmas Eve? Not “I’m not going to get any presents!” which was what I expected. No, instead it was, “You’re not going to let me go to church tonight.” On Christmas Eve, the thing my four year old was most excited about was our church service.

It warms the cockles of my heart that my son wanted to go to church so much. And it was really a lovely service. The children *I* remember as the Angel Gabriel back when were home from college and looking terribly grownup and flatteringly happy to see me. The church looked lovely. My friends were there — young and old. And there was the pageant with the angels and the holy family and the gathered crowds. I played my trumpet for the hymns. Grey sang along, loudly and correctly. He sat beautifully for the entire service (abetted by the old school Pokemon cards he’d gotten as a gift). And then afterwards he and one of his cohorts in crime chased each other around the sanctuary while I chatted. He was in no hurry to get home and get with the loot parts of Christmas. It was just beautiful.

An angel's eye view of the manger in Bethleham

Eventually we did get home, and he carefully laid out four cookies for Santa and some milk. We played a game while waiting for him to fall asleep, thinking this would take a while. We were wrong. He was out like a light. And Santa came and gifts appeared and joy filled the house, except for the feverish baby (who is a very cheerful sick kid).

The boys are still young enough to sleep until their regular time on Christmas morning. But I heard excited exclamations as Grey discovered the scene below. He’s always so satisfied by the end of his stocking I wonder why I ever think I might not have enough for him to open. His interest in opening gifts lasted until the end of our gifts — he still has to open all his grandmother’s tomorrow, but since she flies in tomorrow morning, that seems appropriate.

I caught Grey helping Robby play with Robby's present

Then we all rotted our brains out on the various digital anesthesias. (Well, except for Mr. Slightly More Clingy Than Usual Thane) Grey got two DS games and two Wii games and the usual parental rules regarding them were suspended. He got an astronaut set (including two space monkies!), real Legos, blocks, a science experiment kit, books, and a glow-sword. And oh did he have fun with it all (right until the sugar-crash-fueled complete meltdown). Thane’s favorite toys were his new bunny Mr. Bun (Grey snitched his snuggly new moose) and the colander and spatula Santa brought for Grey’s stuffed bunny Robby. My husband got a Kindle, which is really, really awesome looking. I got a number of really nice things, including a fantastic apron (really!), a Wii fit from my brother, and a new recipe book. (Ok, maybe I’m easy to please.) But mostly, it was all filled with joy and togetherness.

Grey brought up the idea of sending a thank you note to Santa. I wonder how many kids who write Santa letters also write him thank you notes?

As for Thane, well, he was down to 101.2 tonight. Tylenol seems to help immensely. Was ever there such a bad 4 day patch to get sick? I’m pretty sure it’s a really nasty persistent ear infection. He just stopped a course of antibiotics like 3 days ago. I’m guessing it held off but didn’t cure an infection. I’m also guessing that since this is his fourth infection in as many months, tubes are in his future. This isn’t so bad, though. It doesn’t seem to bother him that much. It’s not infectious (so I don’t have it to “look forward to”). It’s not going to be dangerous even if we have to wait until Monday to treat it. I haven’t decided whether it is terrible timing (sick for Christmas!) or fantastic timing (we were going to be staying home anyway!).

The grownups have topped off our day further rotting our own cerebellums with more video games. My husband appears to be in a very tense ground battle with the Russians on one of the floating bridges in Seattle. I think that, after a nice 2 year hiatus, I might actually beat Fable. And my mother-in-law flies in tomorrow! Yay!

So how was your Christmas? What was most meaningful in it for you? And, the real question, what loot did you get?

Merry Christmas to all!

May Santa reward you all appropriately. May your Christmases be full of warmth and joy. May this be a time you look back on for years to come. May joy be yours, today, tomorrow and always.

A cheerful day

Yesterday I spent 2.5 hours in the dentist’s chair telling them they didn’t have enough novocaine in place and being drilled. In the last month, I’ve replaced every single metal filling in my mouth — and I had a lot of them. I think altogether I had maybe 12 fillings replaced?

Not even novocaine can dampen my Christmas pleasure.

I had dinner with a friend (where I ATTEMPTED not to drool too much — I didn’t get feeling back in my jaw until the dessert course), was back in time to put Grey to bed, and spent the evening consulting with Santa on plans for the most fantastic Christmas morning EVER.

Grey went out to buy my present last night, and he was nearly vibrating with gift-giving excitement and the world’s worst sneakiness “Mom, there aren’t any secrets so you don’t need to think about what Christmas present I’m giving you.”.

My husband and I snuggled under the glow of our Christmas tree and made goofy jokes.

Thane crinkles his nose at me in the world’s most goofy grin and said “Car” this morning.

I’ll pick the boys up in an hour or two and we’ll go home and make cookies and wrap presents and wait with our whole bodies.

Tonight we’ll go to our church’s annual Christmas pageant. Grey will understand it, I think, for maybe the first time. The magic and mystery and solemnity will touch him.

How wonderful life is!

The other side of advice columns

I read a lot of advice columns. I love them. I’m not sure why, but I regularly read five or so advice columns a day, and have a few weekly ones I look forward to. One of the universal tropes of the advice column (and, I suspect, hard-to-solve problems humans generally experience) is what to do in a relationship that isn’t working. For example, perhaps there’s a friend who never pays their share of dinner, or is a complete downer, or says racist things. Often there is a two step solution: give them a chance to know what is wrong and change, and then if they are unwilling or unable, end the relationship. If the relationship in question is a family relationship, there’s usually a three part solution: warning, cutting down on exposure and cutting off. If there’s any abuse, the advice is pretty much always “leave now”.

I always wonder about the other side of that advice. I don’t know many people who know they are bad people. (Actually, in fairness, I don’t know many bad people at all.) But I suspect that these other people — the mooch, the depressing, the racist, the abusive… that’s not how they see themselves. Instead, from their point of view, they might be the clueless, the one the world treats unfairly, the funny joker, the person who others have always wronged who has to be careful not to get hurt again.

For example, recently Annie had a couple write in asking why no one ever came to their parties. “What is wrong with other people that they don’t come?” the message implies. For the next 2 weeks, nearly every column has run a list of reasons: out of control pets, out of control children, messy homes, unlikeable personalities, racist jokes… this person is on the other side of countless advice givings that ask “Why do you spend time with people you don’t enjoy?”

This raises two conundrums for me. First, what do I not know about myself? How often have you told someone why you REALLY don’t see them anymore? “I’m sorry, but you’re too negative and you get me down every time I’m around you” isn’t something we say. Or “Every time I’m with you we end up gossiping and I feel ashamed of myself later”. Or “With everything you say about everyone else, I wonder what you say about me”. Or “Your conversation is equal parts awkward pause and awkward discussion.” Instead, we’re busy, or take too long to get back to someone. But I happen to know for a fact that I am not perfect (I know! Please, moderate your surprise.) What do my friends put up with anyway? What encourages people to keep ME at arms’ length that I do not know about and might not be able to control if I did?

The second issue is what happens even if you are self aware. Imagine that you’re 30 or so, intelligent and perceptive, and just not fun to be around. You look deep inside, and discover that yes. You are not a fun person. People don’t enjoy spending time with you. You get in fights with people a lot and end up hurting feelings. So you have tried to change… but it’s almost impossible to act contrary to your nature all the time. You get tired, under pressure, tempers run high and you can’t be who you are not. And things blow up. What then?

The essay I wrote, lo these 15 years ago, to get into college was a discussion of my finite right to be proud of who and what I am. I am as much a product of my genetics and environment as every other human: the jailed drug addict, the self-centered jerk, the runaway prostitute. To the degree their responsibility for their current lot is mitigated by their circumstances so, in fairness, is mine. I got lucky. I didn’t screw it up, granted, but I got really lucky in order to be who and what I am. It is through no merit of my own that I don’t seem disposed towards depression, or get along well with people, or can follow directions. I think I’ve done a decent job in those circumstances where my free will stood me in front of two paths, but there’s always been a good path I was capable of following.

I’ve never come up with a satisfactory “then what”. I try to remember this, when I deal with the congenitally unpleasant — especially when it seems like they are trying their best to make the most of the hand they’ve been given.

What do you think? How do you deal with people who just aren’t fun to be around? Do you suspect you’ve ever been on the other side of this dynamic?

BONUS:
For your reading pleasure, here are the regular advice columns I read

Dear Abby the archetypal advice column, in its second generation. Expect to see lots of PSAs, advice to go to counselling, and horrors about modernity.
Annie’s Mailbox is almost identical to Dear Abby. One of my favorite moments was when they simultaneously answered two different sides of the same dispute.
Carolyn Hax is a more modern, informal style. She tends to ask more questions, and has a slightly longer format, which is nice.
Since You Asked the writer is currently on medical leave for cancer treatment. I usually only read the problems (which are largely unedited and novella length) since I find his answers wishy washy and annoying.
Dear Prudie is probably the best of the lot. She has enough space (unlike the news paper columnists) to really address issues, rarely goes down the “talk to a qualified professional” route, and usually has an interesting perspective which I may or may not agree with. There’s a fun chat on Mondays, a weekly advice video, and a column on Thursdays.
ETA:
Advice Smackdown. How could I forget it? I love everything Amalah writes. This one goes between serious, important, and makeup-related. She would totally be my choice for moisturizer conundrums, but is the sort of writer who can make moisturizer hilariously funny.

Am I missing any good ones?

Quietly glorious days

It’s funny being in the middle of the times you know are the golden ones. Things are pretty quiet in my life. I am mostly done with my Christmas shopping. I’m terrible at stocking stuffers, so I’m sure that could be improved but eh. My Christmas cards are sent and done, which is one of my major projects of the holiday season. I’m now watching my wall fill up with other people’s Christmas cards. There’s snow on the ground and a bite in the wind.

My sons are healthy, growing and delightful. Grey is SO MUCH FUN these days. He’s incredibly aware and alert and always putting things together. He’s getting better and better control over his temper. He’s kind and loving to all of us. He’s started yelling “Grey attack!” and then smothering us with a bevy of hugs and kisses. He is an unfurling flower of delight.

Thane is harder. It’s a stage of life thing. I was telling my brother that children take turns so you never have a favorite. Right now, Thane is communicating by way of ear-splitting screeches. But he’s the silliest little dude. For MONTHS now I’ve tried to get him to say and point for “nose”. This is one of the first things I did with Grey. It’s a very concrete word, “nose”. Pretty easy to say. And cute as all get-out to watch chubby little fingers pointing. For months now, Thane has ignored my attempts to teach him to say “nose”. He just refuses. I start to wonder… is he having some challenge learning? Perhaps his ear infections have affected his hearing?

But the other day the cats were attempting to scavenge some tasty chicken scraps from the garbage and I “tsked” at them. He looked at me, fascinated, and then spent the next five minutes doing the most adorable “tsk” imitation. What? That’s a VERY HARD SOUND. You really have to coordinate teeth, tongue, palate and wind speed. Not like nose, which is easy. But, unlike nose, he’s interested in it.

Anyway, our house is full of music and chaos and bouncing and little toy cars.

The back yard has, in huge letters visible from the fourth floor, the word “MOM” written in snow by my son and husband while they were playing during the big storm.

In the morning, my husband will bring Thane into the bedroom where I’m trying to eke out the last minutes of sleep on our comfy, comfy, warm bed. Thane curls right up to me and sucks his thumb as he snuggles. It lasts for about 5 seconds, but what a sweet way to start your day.

Everyone I love is on the ok or great spectrum (well, with prayers for my godfather to make a complete recovery). We’re all working, in relationships that work, in safe circumstances, in our normal degree of health.

There’s even been “me” time. I’ve gotten to bring my character up to 10th level in Torchlight. I read the first quarter of a fantasy novel. We’re playing Deadlands tonight.

The best times aren’t glamorous, or news-worthy or even, heaven forfend, blog-worthy. They’re busy, and silly, and look a lot like the day before or the day after. They’re the nights when you order pizza and watch a movie together, or go for an after-dinner drive to look at Christmas lights when you teach your son to say “Bah Humbug” and discover that he knows all the words to your favorite carol.

So I don’t have much to say, other than that these are the small times of great delight, and I know it, and I’m grateful both for the delight and for the knowing.

Grey tries to talk me into letting him watch Willow

What Santa is packing in his sleigh

My son is four years old this Christmas. If you are old enough to find your way to this blog, you’re probably old enough to be told the truth. I was four the year I found out that Santa isn’t quite as corporeally real as we pretend. When I was three, many years prior, I had a desk that had gotten left behind when my parents packed us into a station wagon and drove from Atlanta to California by way of Canada. Mom and dad were never too keen on that “Fastest way between two points” stuff. I digress. I yearned for this desk. (Full disclosure: I STILL yearn for that desk in some tiny part of me and am working very hard not to buy Grey a desk-like-object because the four-year-old in me wants that desk.)

Anyway, it was made abundantly clear to Santa (and daddy) that I wanted a desk for Christmas. My sister and I shared a room in our small house with the walnut trees outside. Christmas Eve came, and two very excited young girls gabbled and bounced sleepless in their beds. I had nodded off when my sister woke me up. A sound of thumping was heard through the wall. “He’s here. Let’s sneak a peek.” And so with infinite subtlety, we snuck open the door and poked rumpled blonde heads out to see the Man Himself.

And there was my poor father, nursing a stubbed toe from placing my desk under the tree. We understood immediately. The door was quietly closed, and we retreated to discuss strategy. We agreed on a pact of silence.

I don’t know how old I was when my PARENTS figured out that I had figured out what the game was. It never made it any less fun to play, but I’m glad they didn’t pretend any harder than they did. I would’ve known the lie. Because I wasn’t really looking for inconsistencies, I hope my parents didn’t have to work too hard. (No buying special “Santa” wrapping paper, for example.)

I’m thinking of it this year, of course. Grey wanted to know if he was sitting on the REAL Santa’s lap. I assured him without hesitation that he was. He announced to me the other day that he’s figured out his goal career. He wants to be one of Santa’s Elves and make presents. He’s ok with the uniform constraints, but admits that he might miss me every once in a while. (All humor aside: it was surprisingly well thought out with the data he had. He had considered quite a few consequences and outcomes of this decision!) We are at the very height of Santa-joy: old enough to make cookies, young enough to not consider the physics of Christmas eve flight.

I’m also doing the last minute planning for the presents. I probably need to do a present-review and see if I’m sadly lacking in any category. You know, are there books, crafts, obnoxiously noisy plastic toys, stocking stuffers, and most of the items on his and Robby’s Christmas lists? In future years, I’ll need to make sure I have present-parity between the boys.

One of the things I’m doing for both boys this year is new-to-them toys. Thane will be getting, wrapped up, some of the toys I set aside years ago from Grey’s room. Why not? The only difference between those and a new toy is packaging. Grey will be getting his first real Legos. We have roughly 30 – 40 POUNDS of Legos from my husband’s childhood. Seriously. A huge duffel bag and a big plastic garbage bag FULL of teeny tiny Legos. At current market prices, that quantity of Legos would cost thousands of dollars. (Seriously, have you SEEN Lego prices lately?) I got overwhelmed by them, and just picked out a nice pile for him.

The more I think about it, the more I think I’d like to give the boys all their presents without packaging. In our culture, packaging marks the difference between “New Presents I Bought For You” and “Presents Of Unknown Provenance”. When my mother-in-law scores a real find for me in thrift stores, she’ll often say, “And it still has the tags!” since that proves that it’s new. When we give gifts we use that packaging as a marker of newness. It actually gets in the way of the gift experience, though. “Wow, a truck! OK, now give mommy 20 minutes with wire clippers and you can play with it!”. It also conditions our kids to think that proper gifts come with original packaging and proper gifts are new.

I don’t want that. If my son was holding out for new Legos, he’d get about 15 of them for $30 bucks. (Seriously, this set has under 300 pieces for $150 bucks and is not that unusual pricing-wise.) By being ok with pre-loved Legos, he’ll get a big bag for, um, free. I would like that to hold true as my sons get older, too.

I think I’ll make it a point for things that are unlikely to be returned (no sizing issues) to remove the packaging before wrapping it. Yes, it means my sons won’t know when the toy they’re getting is new. But hopefully it means that they’ll evaluate their toys on whether or not it’s fun to play with, and not whether anyone’s ever played with it before. In some tiny way, perhaps that will help dial back the commercialism of Christmas.

What do you think? Do you always keep new toys in their new packages? How hard to you work to maintain the Santa mythos? How old were you when you found out? How did you take it?
Grey's letter to Santa