The TRUTH About Motherhood

Tag: Christmas

The Elf on the Shelf Problem
Our elf on the shelf elves have once again arrived. Well, three out of the five have arrived. Currently, we have Ed, Analee (because someone who shall remain nameless forgot to remove the nametag…. I’m talking to you Grandma) and Rick Astly ( that bastard’s never gonna give you up! Can you say Single white Elf Male?) We are still missing Herbie Hancock and Rick (i) James (bitch!)
So you’re probably thinking that maybe I have some sort of nasty little elf on the shelf fetish or way too much time on my hands, I assure you that it is neither of those. Well, maybe I do have a little extra time on my hands seeing as I was just downsized from one of my 12 jobs. Damn, what ever will I do with all of that free time the last week of every month? But I digress, we have so many elves because when the girls were small we were moving a lot and the elves got packed away in storage lost on their way back from the North Pole! So every year, we had to replace the lost elf. Look, my mommy brain is not what it once was and I forget shit…like where elves went into the witness protection place the year before or sometimes even the night before.

Our elf on the shelf problem started with Analee.
He came in a beautiful gift box with a letter from the man in the red suit because he knew the girls were having a horrible year leaving their friends and everything they knew and moving across the country. Analee came to give love and moral support.
The next year, Analee “lost” his way to our house because we had moved back to Indiana so “Santa” sent another elf, Ed (this is what happens when Daddy names the elves) to entertain the girls while their daddy was living in Iowa for work. They only saw the Big Guy once a week and we assured them that the elf could check in on daddy each night before he went back to the North Pole and reported to Santa. Then one day, Analee found us and just showed up on the Christmas tree like a damn serial killer stalking his prey and then the two became Santa’s henchmen because we don’t tell our girls about the boogie man.
The following year, we had moved in with our in-laws because 2 years apart was too much for all of us. Unfortunately, we had forgotten our two little buddies they couldn’t find us because we had moved yet again. Enter, Herbie Hancock (he likes to rock down to electric avenue) coolest elf ever. He even has a naughty and nice placard to let the girls know where they stand. But by this time, Bella was 6 and Gabi was suspicious of that damn placard, “Mommy, why does he look like a stuffed animal?” (Because we spare our children the damn traditional scary elf on the shelf) “Because Santa doesn’t want children to be afraid” Near miss. This kid is on to us. I just know it.

Then last year, we moved into our house and it was the mass exodus of elves. They descended upon our house like locusts. Analee, Ed, Herbie Hancock, and then Rick Astly ( what a mischievous little guy he is. You never know what you’re going to wake up to.) He looks like the traditional elf on the shelf, I’m trying to throw the 5-year-old off the scent. Then she demanded to know why no one arrived in the official Santa box and you guessed it, Rick(i) James showed up a couple days later in the box from the North Pole with an official letter addressed to the girls.
So the winter of my discontent 2012 was the year of the elves (that were very mischevious). The mischievousness rubbed off on the girls and so we had to tell them about Santa’s “special” cameras that are installed in the fire alarms throughout the house. Elves were popping up in toilets and refrigerators, backpacks and boxes of cereal or not moving at all or being chewed up by crazed puppies.Kids were dancing naked in front of the fire alarms mooning Santa and blaming shit on their sister. I was still stumbling across rogue elves covered in cob webs in April.
This year we have 5 elves, 3 have arrived, 2 will be here any day I am sure of it. Oh and Gabs is back on board, since finding out that a classmate of hers had a pocket elf who has gotten elderly and now in his wheelchair talks openly to the child. No longer hiding his secret. What an imagination and guess what she prayed for that night? Her very own pocket elf, but not “an old one in a wheelchair” a regular one. Now, we have another elf to remember to displace. As of yet, he is still nameless and harmless ( no baby Jesus stealing or conga lining with the 3 kings…yet) I’m think we name him Too Short or maybe Prince Napoleon.
So to all of you who say that elf on the shelf is stupid, I say to you…stick to your guns. Our elves have played a wonderful part in comforting my girls when they were small and our lives were upside down and we all missed the Big Guy but now, the elves are running amuck and I keep forgetting where they are at night and one keeps stealing baby Jesus and eating all the Fat Boys and Mentos in the house.
I know it’s nonsense and has absolutely nothing to do with why we celebrate Christmas but I also know that my girls love their elves and look forward to their magical appearance every year. It is magic and I am not taking that away from them.
What’s your most creative idea for elf on the shelf shenanigans?

2013/12/06
It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year….Almost
Can you believe it’s September already? Summer disappeared over night and my girls are back to school. The days are getting shorter and Christmas decorations are already in the stores. We’ve not even made it through Halloween yet and the Nutcracker auditions are being held this Sunday. Christmas will be here before you know it. Does this bother anyone else? Don’t get me wrong, I love Christmas more than just about anything but I’d like to enjoy all the holidays that actually precede Christmas before having our annual National Lampoons Christmas marathon.
I should be embarrassed to tell you this but from the moment I saw the giant Christmas blow-ups in Lowes last month, I have been secretly planning how we will decorate our yard and win this year’s neighborhood-decorating contest. My mind has already figured out a theme and all Christmas decorations have been located and placed them in their designated area in my mind. It’s like a runaway train; I’m already hopelessly immersed in a Christmas state of mind. Here’s hoping the elves remember not to show up until the day after Thanksgiving.
I guess since there is no use in fighting it, there is only one thing left to do, use my mommy ninja skills to start figuring out just what everyone wants for Christmas. I prefer not to give a bunch of gifts just for the sake of giving, I’d much rather take the time and find that perfect gift that is just right for each person. Whether it be a photo of our daughters framed with one of their favorite sayings, “I love you more” for my husband or a personalized journal for my daughter that we can write daily notes back and forth to one another in, I like gifts with meaning.
Next on the list will be to order beautiful, personalized Christmas cards. Since having our daughters, I’ve always ordered Christmas cards with photos of our family on them to share with family and friends. It’s a great way to keep loved ones updated, current with photos while filling the gap that geography and time create. I love receiving personalized cards that I know my friend or family member sat down and took the time to design. It’s like a hug in the mail and I love to receive them just as much as give them.
This year, I am using Minted.com to design and create our family’s 2013 Christmas card. I’ve been perusing the site all night and the most difficult task is going to be choosing just one design or maybe I don’t have to. For once, I have started early enough that I can take my time and design 2 or 3 different cards. The possibilities and combinations are endless. Not to mention, while I was on the site, I found all kinds of great personal gift ideas. You know how when you switch from a PC to a Mac everything seems easier, brighter, and more beautiful? That is how I feel about Minted.com’s Christmas cards. I just feel like Minted.com will take my personalized cards to the next level. I can hardly wait to get them ordered and mailed to our loved ones. I only wish I would have known about Minted.com back in May when my daughter had her first communion because they have those too. Who knew?
What is the best gift you’ve ever received for the holidays?

Disclaimer: I was provided a credit to spend at Minted.com to review the site and it’s products, all opinions are my own.
2013/09/08
A Few of My Favorite Things: A New Puppy for Christmas
Our new puppy for Christmas Came home with us on December 14th.
All my girls have been really wanting for Christmas is a puppy. I am trying to think of happy things and do things that make my children happy since last Friday. Sandy Hook Elementary is just a reminder of how precious our time is and how blessed with are to have our children with us, within hugging distance. So, I am sharing for the next 3 days, 3 things I did this year, to make my children happy. These three things made them so happy and shocked that I have to share. Today, I am sharing a gift that we got them last Friday.
We had no idea that the events that were happening in Newtown Connecticut, we only knew that our little girls have had a hard three years and they have been begging for a new puppy since we lost our sweet Saffaron in August. It’s been a really crap year for a lot of reasons and we thought they needed a special gift to make them smile and how it did. I highly suggest to anyone whose child has ever wanted a puppy to get them one. My girls are excited to see their puppy, Lola, every day when they get home form school. They feed her and get her fresh water, they play with her and she has quickly become one of the family.
Gabi, who wants so badly to be a big sister, is thrilled to be Lola’s big sister. Bella, who has been afraid of new dogs since her Grandfather’s dog nipped her when she was 2, has had no problems cuddling and loving on her own sweet puppy. Lola, our sweet Victorian Bulldog puppy, is reveling in the love and attention that she has found her self enveloped in and we are loving having her as the newest addition to our little family.
Welcome to our family Lola puppy
2012/12/19
Mommy Moment Monday ~ Permission to Breathe
My mommy moment almost didn’t happen this week. This past weekend, I wasn’t a very attentive mommy. I was a little self-involved in what was happening to me. From an outsiders view, I spent the weekend being selfish and self- absorbed but in reality, I was dealing with my own shit to make me better for my girls. I know that today.
Sometimes a mommy moment is nothing more than remembering to breathe.
You know that saying that parents should take the oxygen in a plane going down before selflessly handing it off to their children? Well, there is a reason for that. The reason is that if you act all martyr like and give everything of yourself , in the case of the oxygen, you are of no use to help your children get oxygen. So you must make the counter-intuitive decision to get yourself some oxygen, breathe and move on with being a good mommy to your children.
That’s what I did this weekend, I stopped for a minute to breathe; to help myself get through something so that I could be better for my children. I’m human. I have to accept that. I can’t always be perfect. Sometimes I can’t even be around. That’s okay. I need the moments of solitude to move forward. My children need me to step away to give them the independence to take flight. I stepped away for a few hours and it gave the Big Guy time to step up and he did.
My Mommy Moment was found in my daughter’s gaze.
Then on Sunday, we all resumed our roles; refreshed, thankful and able to breathe. And then this happened and I remembered why I do this. Why I grew children and give so much of myself to them. They give me moments of complete bliss that I would not other wise have. There is something about a child’s love that is irreplaceable by any other thing in this world. There is no satisfaction greater for me than seeing the little people that I created genuinely happy. It moves me on a level that nothing before or since having them ever has.
What was your mommy moment this week?

2012/11/26
I see Sick People
Sick People get on my Nerves. Now, before you go all batshit crazy on me for making such an outlandish and insensitive remark right at the holidays. Let me explain. (more…)
2011/12/22
The Rose Colored Christmas Conspiracy
My favorite Christmas memory as a child was from when I was about 3 years old, it was the first year we were spending away from Ohio. We were living in Indiana about a block away from the Illinois border, in a small apartment with really huge floor to ceiling windows. I don’t know why I remember the windows so vividly. Prior to that we had lived in Dayton, near my father’s Uncle Ramon. Uncle Ramon and Aunt Doris were like my grandparents, since we never lived near my actual paternal grandparents, who lived in Mexico.Uncle Ramon and Aunt Doris were like the glue that held our family together, in a lot of ways.They bridged the gap between my Mother and Father. It was frightening and yet exciting. I remember feeling like something big was happening.
That Christmas I remember being special because it was our first year, as just ‘our’ family, the four of us. Well, my parents, Carlos (my little brother) and I, until my father’s brothers showed up. We always had a house full of relatives. We were never really alone. It’s hard to know how you genuinely feel about the people in your life when you only ever see them in the midst of a perpetual party. There was never any down time.Never any quiet moments with children and parents, just being.Those moments that I have come to realize (as a parent myself now) are imperative to the parent child relationship.
This particular memory, I remember playing outside in the snow in our big crazy snowsuits, having snow ball fights with our Dad and uncles ,who seldom wore gloves.No idea why that sticks in my mind as being significant but I must have thought it very bizarre. They were from Mexico and I really don’t think they even thought about gloves as being an option. Every single photo I come across, they are throwing snowballs, without gloves. Then we’d all come inside and Carlos and I would sit in our little chairs (his upholstered in 70’s fashion avocado green and yellow flowers) and mine was a Big red teddy bear rocking chair that I was absolutely obsessed with. Our Mom would bring us hot chocolate and Carlos and I would watch whatever crazy 70’s cartoon was on at the time or if we were really lucky, an episode of the Monkees in syndication.What can I say? I had a wee crush on Davey Jones, even at the ripe old age of 3. It was unimportant what was on television, it was about sitting in those chairs and being beside my little brother. The illumination from the gaudy 1 string of colored lights outlining the huge gold curtains would dance against the plastic on the big velvet chairs. We’d sit there listening to the silver chirping bird ornament emanating from deep inside the Christmas tree covered with endless strings of flashing colored lights and tinsel that looked, in retrospect, that our Mom just let us throw by the handfuls on the tree. Sometimes we’d climb up under the tree to see if we could find that damn chirping bird and put it out of its misery, but we never did. Mostly, there we sat, my brother and I, hypnotized as we sat staring into space with our hot coco mustaches. I know it sounds so simple, innocuous even, but it was the best Christmas ever.
I do remember that Christmas I got a baby doll that was taller than I was, I could barely move the box to open her. She was beautiful and had long brown hair and big almond eyes, just like me. I loved that doll so much I even let her sit in my favorite chair that I never shared it with anyone. That Christmas was also the same year that Carlos got a giant red fire truck. He tore the wooden floors up with that truck running it back and forth and back and forth for hours. We were both over the moon.But something was missing.Maybe it was Uncle Ramon and Aunt Doris, or maybe just the place they held in the relationship between our parents or between our parents and Carlos and I. Maybe I was just too little to understand but could “feel” something was off.On paper and in pictures, it was amazing.
I look at those pictures and Carlos and I look completely happy. In reality, we were oblivious, as we should have been at 3 and 1 years old. We were happy and blissful and colored lights and bright shiny toys from Santa in a brand new apartment were all that was needed to make this the best Christmas ever, to us. When I look closer at the photos, my Mom looks tired and my Dad looks like he had someplace else to be. He definitely looks like he had someplace else that he wanted to be. Soon after this Christmas is when we all became painfully aware that my father was an alcoholic and my Mom was miserable dealing with the abuse that comes with being married to an alcoholic. For a moment, in a picture of a Christmas in a different place and a different time, we all looked happy.
The years that followed, from age 3 until I was 26, the pictures have smiles but the eyes tell another story. They were pasted on smiles and there was no happy memories to be made because every single holiday meant, a father who drank and had an erratic temper that could go off the handle and ruin everything on a whim. Those pictures from our first Christmas in Indiana reminds me of the potential things had to be different; to be good. Those photos show me the potential for Christmas to be snowball fights and coco mustaches, naïve happiness and joy at simply being together. Instead, the reality for us was that a completely carefree, happy Christmas with my parents was a once in a lifetime event. That alone makes it my favorite memory. It has also been the paradigm from which I have chosen to use as the antithesis of how I want to spend my Christmases with my own children. It’s about the love and the togetherness, not doing the right thing on paper and photos.
2010/12/27
How do You Know if You’re Ready to be a Parent?
After falling backward into marriage with a wonderful man, more than I could’ve ever asked for in a person to love me, 5 years later I was getting a little worried. I wasn’t worried about the marriage. I was worried about what came next; babies. How do you know if you’re ready to be a parent?
There was no time frame on any of it but I knew, in my heart, that one day I would be married with children. I never doubted it or considered it wouldn’t happen.
One small problem, I met the man of my dreams when I was least expecting him. He asked me to marry him, when I was even less expecting it. I said yes, to the shock of myself and everyone else. You see where I am going with this?
Life just kept tossing me those lovely wonderful curve balls. I went with it and it all seemed to be playing out perfectly. My life was everything I never knew I’d always wanted, served on a silver platter. One thing was missing, a baby.
But, how do you know if you’re ready to be a parent?
It wasn’t missing because I had misplaced it or some unfortunate fertility issues. We weren’t so busy with our careers that we had forgotten about it. What happened was I married a man who wasn’t sure if he wanted children or not. I know it sounds crazy that I would have even considered marriage when I was so certain about this one aspect of my life. I knew I needed to be a mother, at some point, the way I know I need to breathe air. But he wasn’t totally sure that he didn’t want children, I am an eternal optimist, and we took a chance. Actually, I’d say it was more like the biggest gamble of my life because if things hadn’t worked out as they did, my story would be very different. Probably a lot more like Elizabeth Gilbert’s and a lot less like Truthful Mommy’s.
I remember feeling a lot of trepidation the summer of 2004. It had finally sunk it that maybe this wasn’t going to happen and then big decisions were going to have to be made. Decisions that neither of us wanted to even consider. So we vaguely discussed and kind of decided to plan to plan to have a baby. You know…maybe sometime in that not predetermined future. Personally, in retrospect, I think we were biding our time. He was trying to put off something he still wasn’t sure about and I was trying to give him the benefit of the doubt. I was trying and praying to keep hope alive in my heart. That was the summer of our 5-year anniversary.
We planned a romantic getaway to New Orleans. It was magical. I’m sure it had a lot to do with the “we’re on vacation” mojo and the ginormous hurricanes they serve in the French Quarter but we had a heart to heart and decided that we were both on board to plan to plan to have our mythical baby…one of these days. We walked around the Garden district holding hands and talking about how awesome it would be to live there. Spent nights walking together, gazing at the stars, eating rich foods on Jazz cruises in the Mississippi. We lingered in the French Quarter drinking all that life had to offer before coming back to our hotel to bask in one another’s love multiple times* wink*wink*
Then we returned home. Our marriage stronger than ever, our faith in each other renewed, our love undivided and then…I started puking and puking….and puking some more. Our plan to plan had been foiled and replaced by actual living in the now! We were both scared witless, shitless and sideways and oh, yeah excited. Me more excited; him more scared witless. For a couple months, I was wondering how this was all going to play out. Don’t get me wrong, he was very involved.
We did everything together. I read the pregnancy journal to him every night, so we knew what was going on with our baby. He read and sang to my belly. He was at every appointment. He got choked up at the heartbeat. He catered to my every pregnancy whim. He did everything right but for some reason. I felt like he felt like I had sprung this on him. I was too afraid to bring it up because, honestly, I was afraid of what his answer was going to be. Then I wasn’t sure if it was really fear or some kind of crazy hormonal paranoia. So I just went on basking in my glow and praying every night that he REALLY was too. It felt too good to be true, so I was sure something was afoot.
3 days before Christmas we went to have a 3-D confirmation ultrasound done because I HAD to know what the sex of the baby was going to be. They had told me a girl but said they could be wrong because of leg placement. The doctor had tried 3 times to get a definite sex reading and always the same. She was a good Catholic girl even in utero, closed legs and a middle finger to the world. I was so nervous, I vomited.
It was the big day; I was going to finally know the sex of our baby…our accidental, planning to plan love child. The image came up and we saw our baby in 3-D and I knew…we were ready. He was ready. He was happy. He was ECSTATIC. I had my answer, not about the sex of the baby but the answer to a much bigger question.
Then Christmas came. I didn’t care what I received under the tree because I had already gotten my gift, three days earlier in the ultrasound room. I had gotten peace of mind. All the gifts were open and the Big Guy disappeared. Then he came back in with a huge, beautifully wrapped box and he placed it in front of me. “For me?” I asked. “No, it’s for the baby. I bought it a few months back to surprise you!” I opened the box and inside it was the most beautiful Burberry diaper bag that I had ever seen, through my tear filled eyes. He said, “a few months back”. I had worried for nothing. This is one of my favorite and most cherished holiday memories of all of my existence.
2010/12/26
The Birth of Christ for the Social Media Savvy
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MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL! I had to share this for all my social media savvy friends.
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2010/12/25
Mommy Truisms:Too Blessed to be Stressed Holiday Edition
It’s a special time of year for us Mommies and so I thought I should share a special set of Mommy truisms. Hope this adds to your holiday enjoyment! Merry Christmas!
- If your half asleep child wakes up in the middle of the night and you are caught red-handed wrapping “Santa” gifts, its better to gently walk said half asleep kid back to bed versus assuming they saw anything and telling them “Now that you know there’s no Santa….”.Believe me you can’t unring that bell.
- If you decide to make the elf on the shelf a part of your family tradition and tell your kids that the elves have magical powers of teleportation, its best not to get caught red-handed removing the elf from your luggage at the in laws house. Again, it’s mighty hard to explain your way out of that mess.
- Speaking of explaining your way out of a mess, if you accidentally use a term that you don’t want your kids to know anything about, do NOT try to make up an explanation on the fly.It will end badly. For example, telling your kid that the “Boogie Monster is like the Cookie Monster but sucks the boogies out of sleeping children’s noses” does not a situation better make.Just shut your mouth and pretend you said nothing.
- When your littles are bugging the ever loving crap out of you wanting to make Christmas crafts, Christmas Cookies, or sing Christmas songs and you are running yourself crazy trying to make it the best Christmas ever..stop, take a deep breath and remember what its all for and about.It can’t be perfect if you are annoyed with the very little people that you are trying to make it perfect for. Forget about the to do list and give those littles a little Christmas….NOW!
- Don’t drive yourself insane searching for the perfect gift.Don’t do it. For the little ones it will change on a daily basis.Use your best judgment and give with your heart.Christmas morning is about smiles and togetherness.If you are there in the moment with them and the love is flowing,it will be the best Christmas ever.
- If you don’t heed the previous warning, as I may or may not have in the past, you may find yourself crying at the end of Christmas morning because the Fancy Nancy book that you ordered special, the easel from France, or the freaking $100 chair you bought them (that you KNEW was going to be perfect) is met with a “why the hell did she buy me this” look.
- Christmas, like life, is what you make of it. It’s not about how much money or how many gifts you give.It’s about the passion with which you celebrate. Do you want your littles to think the season is about money and material things or about the spirit of love, a sacred religious celebration, and spending time with those you love? Remember, we are teaching them what it’s all about.
- Don’t assume every gift your little one wants comes from a store.Sometimes the most meaningful gift a parent can give their child is attention, a warm cuddle, a nose kiss, time together, lap snuggles, bed time stories, and REALLY listening to what your littles are actually saying. The smile these things bring is genuine and worth everything.
- When you are buried up to your eyeballs in snow and and it looks like you are living in a snow globe, and the kids keep begging to go outside, sometimes the best thing you can do is throw on all your layers, go outside and have a snowball fight for 15 minutes. These are the moments that memories are made of, why make the memory be of you saying no.Make the memory be, my Mommy was so cool she stopped the world and played with me in the snow.
- Christmas eve may be about traditions and Santa but Christmas morning is about presents and a big breakfast.
- Stress and worry are the only Mommy emotions less valuable than guilt. Don’t do it!
- When all else fails, coffee and wine will get you through the holidays!
Happy Holidays to each and every one of you. I hope that you have a wonderfully fabulous day basking in the glow of your families love. Kiss those littles, tell your Big Guy how much he means to you, and know that you are a great Mommy and wife.Merry Christmas, my friends.
This song is Christmas to me.
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2010/12/24
It’s the First Annual #HoHoHoHolidayswap 2010
Today I have the pleasure of being a part of the #HoHoHoHolidayswap ( every single time I say that , I hear the lyrics..hotel, motel, holiday inn…streaming through my head.What’s that say about me?) . Anyways, these are a great bunch of bloggers who will blow your socks off.
But it is my pleasure to introduce to you one of my favorite people in the world ( bloggy, real and otherwise) Naomi de la Torre the talented and beautiful author of Organic Motherhood with Coolwhip.She can also be found these days writing her velour covered ass off at SheKnows and also as the voice behind baby Lucha @ Baby Banter.
She is a talented writer, a fabulous friend, and can be found on twitter hanging out with the cool kids! Make sure to check out her blog and leave her some love here, as well! Now, let’s give a big Truth About Motherhood welcome to the sweetest, mojito drinking, fallopian tube crossing, salsa dancing, baby wrangling, organic ,baby loving blog bestie of mine…..Naomi!
Today, I can be found spreading my holiday mayhem at A Belle, a Bean and a Chicago Dog.
Stop by and show me some love!
Please stop by as many of the blogs as you can. These ladies are all great writers and you will be in for a treat.
The Bad Sister’s Favorite Christmas
I’m a good sister. Usually. Mostly.
But, according to my little sister Aliza, when we were young, I was bad. Very bad. Very bad indeed. My various crimes include:
1. Tricking her into eating cat food to impress a babysitter.
2. Excluding her from plans to move to New York City and live in a super fabulous loft and write encyclopedias for a living with our same-age cousin Hillary.
3. Not taking her to the bathroom and causing her to have various accidents that could have been avoided. (More on this later.)
4. Sending her out onto a small pond in our backyard on a raft that didn’t float. (Yes, she sank.)
5. Not playing Barbie Dolls with her. Even when she asked nicely.
I must admit, I did all those things. And more. But the worst of all my childhood crimes is probably one that occurred on Christmas one year.
This was during the era when neon clothes, shoulder pads, knee-length sweaters, and Cindy Lauper-inspired stirrup pants were all the rage and my sister had just received a brand-new pair of hot-pink jean stirrups. She was over the moon for her new outfit, which also came with a handful of jelly bracelets and a matching Mickey Mouse shirt. Just as we were trying on all our Christmas loot, my sister said, “Uh-oh! I have to pee!”
For whatever reason (I simply cannot explain my motives) I raced in front of her, dashed into the bathroom and stood on top of the toilet. She came in and pleaded with me to get off. She begged me to get down. She told me that it wasn’t funny. She told me it wasn’t nice. But apparently, I found the whole situation quite hilarious and I stood there on top of the toilet laughing hysterically. That is, until she became very quiet , turned bright red, and stood motionless while a big wet circle grew on the front of her brand new hot pink stirrup pants.
After that, I felt bad.
But apparently not bad enough to avoid the many other crimes that I’ve been accused of during the rest of my childhood.
Is this really my favorite Christmas?
No, of course not. There was also the Christmas during which I got my period for the first time and my mother felt the need to shout this information at top-volume throughout my Grandma’s house in front of a whole slew of male relatives. Which caused me such intense mortification that I considered taking up residence in the bathroom and never coming out again.
But that was probably my sister’s favorite Christmas. Not mine.
In truth, my sister and I are the best of friends. But when we were kids, we fought as often as we got along. My two boys are the same age difference apart as us and their daily squabbles send me over the edge. Regularly. They tease each other incessantly. They fight over toys. They tell tales on each other. Sometimes, I just want to scream, “Why can’t you just get along!!??” But I guess, considering my sordid past, I really don’t have the right to say this.
Christmas, for me, above all else, is a
time for family. And family is love. I love my family with an intensity that sometimes crushes me to bits and makes it hard to breathe. I can’t imagine my existence without them. And I adore this time of year because it gives us all a reason to come together. With a family like mine that is spread halfway across the globe, our times together are infrequent, but they are wonderful.
And yes, though we are now grown, we still tease each other. We argue. We play favorites. We tell stories on each other. We throw each other under the bus. Even as adults. No one is perfect.
And though you won’t find me standing atop any toilets when my friends or family are desperate anymore, I can’t claim that I don’t do something equally irritating and juvenile, just maybe something a little more fitting for my age range.
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2010/12/22