Christmas, Christmas time was here. Of course, that’s the Christmas song that Alvin and the Chipmunks made famous and one of the ones that I’ve heard 715 times this season. I still have all of my favorite Christmas songs stuck in my head since I have been listening to nothing else since November 25th. I am officially in my post-Christmas funk which happens every year. Why does it happen when I know it will come? Can’t I prepare for it? Can’t I get less swept up in the holiday spirit so that I don’t get the blues when it all comes to an end? The answer is that I cannot.
The build-up to Christmas is such a magical time for me. And there’s no “over” like the moment you realize Christmas is over. It makes you sad to hear the music. It is bittersweet to see the TV specials. I get sad looking at my decorations because I know that I’ll put them away and will not see them for eleven months. I saw some of that same sadness in Kate this year. There was a moment on Christmas night when she realized she had played with all of her new toys and began crying. She was sad because it was all… over. Sure, she appreciated her gifts and had a great day. But she said the words I’d said so many years as a kid, “I wish every day was Christmas”. I heard myself respond the way my father would respond to me; “If Christmas was everyday, it wouldn’t be as special”.
I am giddy for about the entire month leading up to Christmas. I love getting Christmas cards in the mail. I love the music, the lights, the merriment. I am a Christmas nerd. I’ve admitted it before and I feel no shame about it. I. Love. It. But then, Christmas day comes and I already have the sinking feeling Christmas morning that it’s about to be over. It’s almost like I can’t even enjoy the actual day because I’m spending so much time thinking about and dreading the fact that it’s coming to an end.
I do enjoy the day, of course. I love watching my kids experience the joy and the magic of Christmas. This was my first year to have Christmas without my parents present. They went to be with my sister’s family this year. Mike was worried that I’d be weepy about it. I was fine, actually, although I did miss having them over. But this year, the focus was solely on our little family of four. We did have Mike’s parents over for Christmas dinner – which was almost a disaster since Christmas “dinner” is really a late lunch but they understood they’d be joining us at dinnertime which threw all of my pre-ordained traditions into a temporary but ultimately resolvable tailspin. But, for most of the day it was just the four of us.
I was a little worried leading up to the big day because last year’s Christmas was so memorable due to the 8 inches of snow we had. It was my first white Christmas and theirs, but they now associated Christmas with snowman-building. I kept telling them that it was not likely to snow this year, but they just wouldn’t hear of it. In their minds’ limited retention, it snowed every Christmas and they were going to be disappointed if everything wasn’t covered in snow when they awoke. And I must say that the snow made it kind of an extra-special Christmas for me last year. It’s just so rare that we get that much snow all season – let alone in one day. And on Christmas! No wonder there are songs about people dreaming of a white Christmas. It was a magical dream come true.
But I digress. On Christmas Eve, we got the house ready for Santa’s arrival and put the kids to bed. They were worried that they wouldn’t be able to sleep for all of the excitement and that Santa wouldn’t come since “he knows when you’re awake”. About 10 seconds after assuring them that they would, in fact, sleep, they passed out. Mike and I poured a glass of wine and sat out on the porch in front of the fire listening (Mike, begrudgingly) to Christmas music. He’s such a good sport to put up with the forced compliance my Christmas requires.
On Christmas morning, I experienced what my father has relayed to me about our childhood Christmases. Mike and I were awake, waiting for the girls to come bounding down the stairs to “wake us up” and get us all opening stockings. It doesn’t seem right that the parents would be awake first – you’d think the kids would burst into the room at 5 a.m., but for us, as it was for my parents, it’s a waiting game to see when they’ll wake up. My first tinge that “this is almost over” came when I finally heard them rustling upstairs. Once the day was in motion, it couldn’t be stopped from progressing. It was at this moment that I realized that it wasn’t really Christmas that I love, but the build-up to it. The entire experience of it. People you don’t know wishing you a Merry Christmas. People generally in a happier mood (unless in traffic or a mall). The anticipation of what’s to come. The parties. And, oh my – the food!
But they began stirring and came running downstairs and saw the gifts Santa had left. We began opening our stockings, ate a nice breakfast and then started in on the rest of the gifts. I decided to relax my mandatory Christmas routine slightly and not go through my normal showering-before-opening-gifts routine. We actually were allowed to open gifts in our jammies. I didn’t even wear a bra. A Christmas miracle!
The first gifts opened were the ones the girls had made for each other. Kate had made Meg a crown out of pipe cleaners. Meg had colored a picture for Kate from her Charlie Brown Christmas coloring book and had put smiley face stickers on it. They were both excited about the gifts they were giving – which is a very important lesson for a kid to learn. It warms my heart that they not only wanted to make each other a gift, but that they were so excited to give them that we had to start with those gifts in particular. What a special way to start the day.
The girls were also thrilled with the rest of their presents. They seemed to love and be excited about everything they got. Kate would unwrap something neatly and carefully at first. She would then discover what it was and say, “Yes, yes, yes! I LOVE THIS! THANK YOU, THANK YOU!!!” and would rip through the remaining paper. Meg would say, “OOOOH, I wanted this!! Ohmygosh!!” Both of them were so happy and had so much fun. After everything had been opened, the real opening began – removing the layers and layers of impenetrable plastic wrap encasing Barbies and Disney characters as though they held matters of national security. We also had to play every game and remove each and every teeny tiny piece that came with each play set. One Strawberry Shortcake grocery play set alone came with 28 tiny food items, all of which I have stepped on in the four days that have passed since Christmas. The Barbie nurse they got came with a damn doctor’s bag, stethoscope, clipboard, and all kinds of crap my kids will most certainly lose if they haven’t already. Don’t the makers of these toys know who will be receiving them? Does any kid keep up with all of these accessories in a nice, neat compartment that never get in their parents' way??!
But anyway, with each year that passes, my girls seem to experience more and more of the joy and wonder of Christmas. This year, they enjoyed giving. They, of course, enjoyed receiving. They loved the music and the playing. We had a blast together even though we really didn’t do all that much. We had fun just hanging out as a family and watching movies together and popping popcorn. We all had a lovely time during the holidays and on Christmas day. I can’t wait – although it will be a long one – until we can do it all again next year.
And you know what? None of us even noticed that it didn’t snow.
Thursday, December 29, 2011
The Nutcracker
Forgot to post this before Christmas.
Well, it's been a while since I've posted, but it's because of all of the nutcracking that's been going on in my life. First, I took the girls - along with their grandmother (Nonny), Aunt Anh and cousin Ella - to the Chattanooga Ballet's rendition of the Nutcracker. I don't know much about the story of the nutcracker because my parents apparently were communists and never took me to see it as a child. (I was also never taken to Disneyworld, so they're either communists or aliens.) So, I was excited that this year the girls were old enough and well behaved enough to go. Except they weren't. But I'll get to that in a minute.
The girls have been taking dance at their school on Monday afternoons and both have been learning dances for the school’s production of the Nutcracker. So, they both get so excited every time one of the songs comes on my iPod (since I've been listening to nothing but Christmas music since the day after Thanksgiving). So I thought that they would be interested enough, based on their new found love of the music, to sit through the show.
The first problem (and there were several) was that the show didn't start until 8:00 p.m. That's a problem for a couple of reasons. First - my kids go to bed at 8:30 Second, I got to bed at 9:00! How were we going to survive this? We grabbed a rushed dinner at Lupi's Pizza just down the street from the theatre. I was in charge of ordering and due to my deplorable math skills, I miscalculated how much pizza would be needed. I ended up only having two pieces and I was not happy. I normally eat 4-5 pieces because I am a gluttonous beast. As is their usual ritual, the girls shook enough Parmesan cheese on theirs that their slice was completely eclipsed. They had cheese everywhere. All over their the table. All over their clothes. In their hair. In their shoes. Stuck to their tights. Everywhere.
After we scarfed down our pizza, we headed in the frigid air, a few blocks away to the show. I was pleasantly surprised to see how close to the stage our seats were. We were in the orchestra left section which means our party of six had a row all to ourselves. It was great - except that we were so close and so "left" that the last two people in the row had a hard time seeing the entire stage. The hefty, tattooed girl in what appeared to be a 1980's prom dress who sat directly in front of Meg's seat, also was a problem. Meg was very particular about where she sat. She was fine in the two left seats, but anything past that she said, loudly, "smelled like throw-up". I leaned over to smell it to see why she would say that and I couldn't smell anything. The only thing I could smell was the Parmesan cheese that was still all over her. And honestly, it smelled a little like throw up. Could it be that she was offended by her own smell? If so, why couldn't she smell regardless of where she sat? Anyway, she and I were bound to the two seats on the far left due to my fear she's make a scene.
The second problem was that I had misjudged Meg's interest in seeing this ballet. She kept pointing at the hefty, tattooed girl in front of us saying, loudly, "she's in my way". She also continued to comment (loudly) on how everything seemed to smell like throw up - even though she was the only one who was smelling it. She had one nostril that was stopped up which is admittedly very annoying and uncomfortable thing when it happens. However, she KEPT sniffing and blowing and sniffing and blowing and finally sniffing and crying and made it clear to me that I was going to have to make an early exit with her. I wondered why she was trying so hard to breathe when she could only smell throw up, but it didn’t matter. She was determined to get her nostril clear. We had only been there about 15 minutes and I was very worried that her behavior was bothering the people around us. As you are already aware, I always end up sitting next to people who make me question why I ever go out in crowds and I certainly did not want to force this on the people around us.
The third problem, which helped me with the second problem, is that the first act just wasn't that good. The way the story was depicted early on didn't make much sense. The dancing was just "okay". The first part of the story doesn't showcase the best music of the show - the memorable pieces like "March" and "Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy". It just wasn't that impressive. So, when the intermission came, I decided to scoop up my crying, sniffing, throw-up-smelling daughter and carry her out into the lobby to get her away from the people around us. Once we were out there, she became the most pleasant, sweetest kid I could ask for. I knew we wouldn't go back into the auditorium (which was actually fine with me given that I hadn't been bowled over by the show so far).
So, the second half started up started up and Meg and I played in the lobby. We bought a nutcracker ornament being sold by the vendors in the lobby. We cuddled together on a bench. She performed her dances for me and other onlookers when the music she recognized began streaming in from the auditorium. We actually had some good Mama and Meg time. Kate, meanwhile, was beginning to hit her own wall. I had left her in the very capable hands and lap of Nonny. But as I've mentioned the show started at 8:00. She is used to going to bed at 8:30. And she is my sleeper. Until maybe 6 months ago, she was still taking 2-3 hour naps. She's the kid who tells the babysitter, "I'm ready to go to bed". Every time a new song would start up Nonny reported to me later (since, as you recall, I was in the lobby), Kate would gasp and whine and groan a very disappointed, “Nooooooooo!”; almost like what I picture a deer does once it has been seized by a hunter's bullet. Not only is she my sleeper, but she's also my kid most likely to behave in most situations, so that's as bad as her behavior got. Just the constant moans of child being forced against her will to sit through the ballet at this late hour. But, lesson learned. They weren't ready for a ballet. Certainly not one that started at 8:00. From what I could tell from the crowd's reaction, the second half was WAY better than the first. But alas, I couldn't watch it. But maybe there was still hope. The girls had their Nutcracker recital at school coming up, so I was finally going to get to see it in its entirety.
Two nights after the Chattanooga Ballet Nutcracker debacle,I finally got the last of the Parmesan cheese out of their hair the girls had their Nutcracker performance at school. From the looks of Meg's costume, I could deduce that she was supposed to be a Sugar Plum Fairy. From the looks of Kate's costume, I could only assume she was some kind of Hoochie Mama. It looked nothing like anything resembling Christmas or nutcrackers or even childhood. It was this black almost flapper-looking, form-fitting, spaghetti-strap something-or-other. And she wasn't happy about it. Meg had wings and pastel colors so there was a lot of jealousy on Kate's part. She was mad because Meg’s costume made her look beautiful (her word) and hers made her look like a tramp (my word).
Still, I pulled their hair into a bun – a welcome change for Kate who is in the early stages of the dreaded growing-out-the-bangs phase, gave them each a tiny bit of make-up for the stage, and off we went to what I was sure would be a better experience than the evening ballet. A better experience? Yes. A better production of the Nutcracker? Um, no. It was about as dog-and-pony as anything I’ve seen. Not that should I have expected anything different. It’s not like they take dance at a studio – it’s just an after-school class taught by one of the school teachers. But I guess I thought it would be more polished and coordinated. Or just polished and coordinated at all.
That’s overly harsh. It was fine. The girls did a good job. They were precious, actually. The quality of the sound system left a lot to be desired. A lot. It probably would’ve been better and clearer if I had just stood up and hummed the music. Also, most of the kids performed as though this was the first time they had actually seen the dance they were doing. But, it was cute. It was fun. Watching kids perform amid organized chaos always is. In this particular performance, I’m not sure there was an actual storyline. There was a giant cardboard nutcracker as part of the scenery and one girl danced with a doll in a way similar to what I had seen at the Chattanooga Ballet. But past that, I have no idea what on earth was going on. Just a bunch of fairies and hoochies flailing about.
During Meg’s dance number, I heard this kind of ferocious splash and then saw a group of people scatter. An attendee, not a performer thankfully, had just thrown up in the audience. Those school workers, probably very seasoned in just such a circumstance, sprang into action. I’ll bet half the audience didn’t even know it happened. They had it cleaned up and covered in that nasty looking kitty litter stuff in no time. I share that because that was probably the most exciting part of the show. But, the girls did their dances, tried their best, and paid attention to the teacher at all times. They were proud of themselves which makes me happy, and they really enjoyed the flowers their daddy brought to give them after their performance. It was very sweet.
So, I have been busy lately with all of the trips to see the Nutcracker and I technically still haven't seen the Nutcracker. Not in it's entirety anyway. Well, there’s always next year’s festivities. Hope you and your family enjoy the Christmas holidays!
Well, it's been a while since I've posted, but it's because of all of the nutcracking that's been going on in my life. First, I took the girls - along with their grandmother (Nonny), Aunt Anh and cousin Ella - to the Chattanooga Ballet's rendition of the Nutcracker. I don't know much about the story of the nutcracker because my parents apparently were communists and never took me to see it as a child. (I was also never taken to Disneyworld, so they're either communists or aliens.) So, I was excited that this year the girls were old enough and well behaved enough to go. Except they weren't. But I'll get to that in a minute.
The girls have been taking dance at their school on Monday afternoons and both have been learning dances for the school’s production of the Nutcracker. So, they both get so excited every time one of the songs comes on my iPod (since I've been listening to nothing but Christmas music since the day after Thanksgiving). So I thought that they would be interested enough, based on their new found love of the music, to sit through the show.
The first problem (and there were several) was that the show didn't start until 8:00 p.m. That's a problem for a couple of reasons. First - my kids go to bed at 8:30 Second, I got to bed at 9:00! How were we going to survive this? We grabbed a rushed dinner at Lupi's Pizza just down the street from the theatre. I was in charge of ordering and due to my deplorable math skills, I miscalculated how much pizza would be needed. I ended up only having two pieces and I was not happy. I normally eat 4-5 pieces because I am a gluttonous beast. As is their usual ritual, the girls shook enough Parmesan cheese on theirs that their slice was completely eclipsed. They had cheese everywhere. All over their the table. All over their clothes. In their hair. In their shoes. Stuck to their tights. Everywhere.
After we scarfed down our pizza, we headed in the frigid air, a few blocks away to the show. I was pleasantly surprised to see how close to the stage our seats were. We were in the orchestra left section which means our party of six had a row all to ourselves. It was great - except that we were so close and so "left" that the last two people in the row had a hard time seeing the entire stage. The hefty, tattooed girl in what appeared to be a 1980's prom dress who sat directly in front of Meg's seat, also was a problem. Meg was very particular about where she sat. She was fine in the two left seats, but anything past that she said, loudly, "smelled like throw-up". I leaned over to smell it to see why she would say that and I couldn't smell anything. The only thing I could smell was the Parmesan cheese that was still all over her. And honestly, it smelled a little like throw up. Could it be that she was offended by her own smell? If so, why couldn't she smell regardless of where she sat? Anyway, she and I were bound to the two seats on the far left due to my fear she's make a scene.
The second problem was that I had misjudged Meg's interest in seeing this ballet. She kept pointing at the hefty, tattooed girl in front of us saying, loudly, "she's in my way". She also continued to comment (loudly) on how everything seemed to smell like throw up - even though she was the only one who was smelling it. She had one nostril that was stopped up which is admittedly very annoying and uncomfortable thing when it happens. However, she KEPT sniffing and blowing and sniffing and blowing and finally sniffing and crying and made it clear to me that I was going to have to make an early exit with her. I wondered why she was trying so hard to breathe when she could only smell throw up, but it didn’t matter. She was determined to get her nostril clear. We had only been there about 15 minutes and I was very worried that her behavior was bothering the people around us. As you are already aware, I always end up sitting next to people who make me question why I ever go out in crowds and I certainly did not want to force this on the people around us.
The third problem, which helped me with the second problem, is that the first act just wasn't that good. The way the story was depicted early on didn't make much sense. The dancing was just "okay". The first part of the story doesn't showcase the best music of the show - the memorable pieces like "March" and "Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy". It just wasn't that impressive. So, when the intermission came, I decided to scoop up my crying, sniffing, throw-up-smelling daughter and carry her out into the lobby to get her away from the people around us. Once we were out there, she became the most pleasant, sweetest kid I could ask for. I knew we wouldn't go back into the auditorium (which was actually fine with me given that I hadn't been bowled over by the show so far).
So, the second half started up started up and Meg and I played in the lobby. We bought a nutcracker ornament being sold by the vendors in the lobby. We cuddled together on a bench. She performed her dances for me and other onlookers when the music she recognized began streaming in from the auditorium. We actually had some good Mama and Meg time. Kate, meanwhile, was beginning to hit her own wall. I had left her in the very capable hands and lap of Nonny. But as I've mentioned the show started at 8:00. She is used to going to bed at 8:30. And she is my sleeper. Until maybe 6 months ago, she was still taking 2-3 hour naps. She's the kid who tells the babysitter, "I'm ready to go to bed". Every time a new song would start up Nonny reported to me later (since, as you recall, I was in the lobby), Kate would gasp and whine and groan a very disappointed, “Nooooooooo!”; almost like what I picture a deer does once it has been seized by a hunter's bullet. Not only is she my sleeper, but she's also my kid most likely to behave in most situations, so that's as bad as her behavior got. Just the constant moans of child being forced against her will to sit through the ballet at this late hour. But, lesson learned. They weren't ready for a ballet. Certainly not one that started at 8:00. From what I could tell from the crowd's reaction, the second half was WAY better than the first. But alas, I couldn't watch it. But maybe there was still hope. The girls had their Nutcracker recital at school coming up, so I was finally going to get to see it in its entirety.
Two nights after the Chattanooga Ballet Nutcracker debacle,
Still, I pulled their hair into a bun – a welcome change for Kate who is in the early stages of the dreaded growing-out-the-bangs phase, gave them each a tiny bit of make-up for the stage, and off we went to what I was sure would be a better experience than the evening ballet. A better experience? Yes. A better production of the Nutcracker? Um, no. It was about as dog-and-pony as anything I’ve seen. Not that should I have expected anything different. It’s not like they take dance at a studio – it’s just an after-school class taught by one of the school teachers. But I guess I thought it would be more polished and coordinated. Or just polished and coordinated at all.
That’s overly harsh. It was fine. The girls did a good job. They were precious, actually. The quality of the sound system left a lot to be desired. A lot. It probably would’ve been better and clearer if I had just stood up and hummed the music. Also, most of the kids performed as though this was the first time they had actually seen the dance they were doing. But, it was cute. It was fun. Watching kids perform amid organized chaos always is. In this particular performance, I’m not sure there was an actual storyline. There was a giant cardboard nutcracker as part of the scenery and one girl danced with a doll in a way similar to what I had seen at the Chattanooga Ballet. But past that, I have no idea what on earth was going on. Just a bunch of fairies and hoochies flailing about.
During Meg’s dance number, I heard this kind of ferocious splash and then saw a group of people scatter. An attendee, not a performer thankfully, had just thrown up in the audience. Those school workers, probably very seasoned in just such a circumstance, sprang into action. I’ll bet half the audience didn’t even know it happened. They had it cleaned up and covered in that nasty looking kitty litter stuff in no time. I share that because that was probably the most exciting part of the show. But, the girls did their dances, tried their best, and paid attention to the teacher at all times. They were proud of themselves which makes me happy, and they really enjoyed the flowers their daddy brought to give them after their performance. It was very sweet.
So, I have been busy lately with all of the trips to see the Nutcracker and I technically still haven't seen the Nutcracker. Not in it's entirety anyway. Well, there’s always next year’s festivities. Hope you and your family enjoy the Christmas holidays!
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