Unholy Holidays

First fiscal mistake that doomed the holidays this year: Awwww! Let's have a baby! Why not? Our other costly bundle has every medical anomaly known to man, and I'd love nothing more than to insure the the powers that be at Blue Cross and Blue Shield have a Merry Christmas in their sprawling mansions! So, here I am, counting down the days until our met deductible is rolled over and wiped out, praying major illnesses occur before the New Year ball drops. There has only been one year where I've followed my own excellent advice and finished my holiday shopping the first week of November. It was pre children, in the wonderful days when we could just go and shop. Wake up, shower, dress, get in the car... whenever I wanted, whenever I felt like it. I could walk around shops in silence. There was NOTHING on my arm, no wonky walking with the infant carrier on one arm and a toddler on my hip. Amazing. Those were the days of disposable income.

The yuletide was a tidge skimpy this year. That's ok, as I reminded myself that it is about baby Jesus, not Baby Einstein. Try explaining this to my near 3 year old who has recently discovered the glory that is Santa. It all worked out, he had an entire paycheck worth of gifts opened in under a minute. He loves the toys, though he would love nothing more than to have 5 more weeks of gifts. The baby was utterly oblivious, so he happily gnawed away on boxes and tissue paper, forgoing the pricey chew toys. He'd have been just as happy to have milk and a clean diaper, but how would that look in his baby book? Baby's First Christmas: We fed you, clothed you, and nourished your loins. Me thinks he'd be less than thrilled. That's the stuff that therapy is made for.

Needless to say, my children were thrilled with their winnings. Oldest was practically running down the aisles, hands waving, ready to bid on the tasteful lazy boy recliner. He received the obligatory loud toys in the form of a complete tool bench and proceeded to run through the crowd providing free gynecological exams with his power drill, pro bono. Thankfully he was sporting the appropriate safety eyewear. The baby fared well also, though not as well as big bro but who's going to tell him that. He's not even 6 months old, so he doesn't care. He relished in being passed around, but as he is slightly less social than his 3 foot counter part, eventually he'd had enough of the crowd.

Now that the festivities have drawn to an end, I'm drowning in a sea of miniatures. Teensy cars, tiny legos, and a small army of "castle guys" who each have at least 40 miniscule accessories including belts and bracelets. My son is now obsessed with this tiny men and their correct outfits... though I am the one that must dress them. Oh joy. I wish we could just grow a pair and purchase him a barbie, but my husband is slightly inclined to follow imaginary gender roles, so the castle is technically not a dollhouse. My son may still have a daddy, a mommy (complete with 5 o'clock shadow), and brother armed with sword, crossbow, and mace, and he MAY be putting them all to sleep in the dungeon, but it is NOT a dollhouse. Sorry to break it to ya hubs, but EVERYTHING is a dollhouse to him, even the miniature car garage for greasmonkey tots.

It didn't quite feel like the holidays should. By "should" I mean the way that it is commissioned on Funny Farm. People in victorian garb caroling, and skating, and spreading joy. It was more about scrimping, saving, battling crowds, finding appropriate coupons, and cursing UPS. Mommy was a glutton for punishment and scheduled baby's vaccinations for Christmas Eve Eve. Proper crabbiness and fretting about the low grade fever that followed ensued. Silly me, I thought it would be smart to add two flu shots to the mix! Probably not one of my finer moments. Hubby's workday on Christmas Eve went from ending at 2pm to 4 pm which began an avalanche of issues. Mother nature was on the rag and proceeded to dump crap weather on us as a bird flip to the yule. We worked it out. All we really needed was our young, core family... but I didn't want to buy groceries, so we battled the elements and made it to our destinations for subsequent rounds 2 and 3 of presents.

All in all, the holiday proved to be less magical than I'd have hoped. Though there was still magic and mystique for my kids, I'm not sure I can pull off the magic of Christmas at 5 pm any longer. This may be the only year I can convince my son to go upstairs and pretend to be asleep at dusk because I "think" I hear Santa. If I tried again and fail, I'd ruin Santa for my son just for the sake of convenience, so I'll be figuring that one out for the next 12 months. I hope that I am smarter next year, and learn from the error of my ways. We began some new traditions, so that was great, and will pave the way to better Christmases in years to come. My opinions on the subject are moot, as it really has now shifted my focus to my children and that is how it should be. It isn't about me and what I want any longer, it is solely about the boys, the toys, and the smiles and eye twinkles. That was gift enough. Oh, and the left overs help too!