So, as a genuine round-up, our holiday season was long and bright. Beginning with a fantastic trip to Charlotte (see below) for Thanksgiving, we ushered in Chanukkah the following weekend. And right in the middle of lighting candles, we found a tree, trimmed it and began belting out as many Christmas songs as we could... all the time.
Following a quiet week of riding around the tree... not to mention the house (Carson and Wesley were gifted a Balance Bike and a Scooter, respectively, for Chanukkah), we were ready for excitement as Christmas truly came upon us. Ever so excited, Mommy and Santa had finished not only shopping, but wrapping early.
Until Friday night before Christmas. When, at the dinner table, Darling Daddy said to Wesley, Wes, what do YOU want for Christmas.
Wes took on a stern look, thinking, thinking, "hmmmm... a 'pop goes the weasel toy!'" (uh oh.)
"Anything else?"
Wesley furrowed his brow and thought. And thought. And thought. "Hmmmm... A new coat!" (double uh oh).
Off I went, Friday before Christmas, to buy Wes' additional gifts. Which were from Mommy and Daddy and 2 of his faves.
Sunday, December 30, 2007
Monday, December 10, 2007
Monday, December 03, 2007
Life-Proofing
As parents, we spend hours babyproofing. This child born to us is our responsibility, our love, our life. He needs to be protected. Clearly. And so we protect. We install cabinet locks, outlet covers, gate the stairs, attach heavy furniture to walls. We make dozens of attempts to cover every corner, every hard surface. And we hide every tiny small thing away. In locked boxes. Far, far above baby height, above child height, above my height (yes... that is still child height, I suppose).
For LIttle number one. We do all that for Little number 1. For Little number 2, we're a bit more laid back. Relaxed. Been there, done that. Ruined my walls, cabinets and banisters with holes to hold the gear. By the time Little Number 2 is toddling, he's already been taught by LIttle Number 1 how to open the cabinet and beat out toddler rendition of Driving in My Big Red Car with wooden spoon and sauce pot.
And by the time the Littles are old enough for us to un-babyproof, the family has grown so used to getting around the proofs, they're easily forgotten. They become used for recognition. Was that the ding of the gate opening? Little 2 is going to the potty. Hear the plastic against metal of the door handle? Little 1 is hungry for a snack.
When do we have to learn to say "no"? We can't just keep proofing through life. I can't keep hiding my toys; keeping closets locked, hiding holiday presents behind locked doors. Naturally, children are curious, but when does curiousity stop? It doesn't. It won't. Even an 65 year old grandparent is dying to know what's hiding behind a closet door.
The difference is that the grandparent is trusted. She knows not to open the closet door, because its forbidden. She's been asked not to. She understands. She recognizes respect.
Do the children? By babyproofing to an extreme, are we instilling trust and respect? Children need to learn that respect is a key element in life. Its something no babyproofing specialist can install. Its the parents responsibility to install self-restraint.
And that starts early. It starts in expectations, declarations and rules. Plainly: No. Means. No. The earlier parents start teaching this to the children, the sooner they'll learn respect and self-restraint. And the sooner they'll learn to babyproof their own lives.
Yes, we should still babyproof--its a matter of safety. But babyproofing need not replace direction from parents. Only when parents learn to say no, will children learn to respect it.
For LIttle number one. We do all that for Little number 1. For Little number 2, we're a bit more laid back. Relaxed. Been there, done that. Ruined my walls, cabinets and banisters with holes to hold the gear. By the time Little Number 2 is toddling, he's already been taught by LIttle Number 1 how to open the cabinet and beat out toddler rendition of Driving in My Big Red Car with wooden spoon and sauce pot.
And by the time the Littles are old enough for us to un-babyproof, the family has grown so used to getting around the proofs, they're easily forgotten. They become used for recognition. Was that the ding of the gate opening? Little 2 is going to the potty. Hear the plastic against metal of the door handle? Little 1 is hungry for a snack.
When do we have to learn to say "no"? We can't just keep proofing through life. I can't keep hiding my toys; keeping closets locked, hiding holiday presents behind locked doors. Naturally, children are curious, but when does curiousity stop? It doesn't. It won't. Even an 65 year old grandparent is dying to know what's hiding behind a closet door.
The difference is that the grandparent is trusted. She knows not to open the closet door, because its forbidden. She's been asked not to. She understands. She recognizes respect.
Do the children? By babyproofing to an extreme, are we instilling trust and respect? Children need to learn that respect is a key element in life. Its something no babyproofing specialist can install. Its the parents responsibility to install self-restraint.
And that starts early. It starts in expectations, declarations and rules. Plainly: No. Means. No. The earlier parents start teaching this to the children, the sooner they'll learn respect and self-restraint. And the sooner they'll learn to babyproof their own lives.
Yes, we should still babyproof--its a matter of safety. But babyproofing need not replace direction from parents. Only when parents learn to say no, will children learn to respect it.
Tiiimmmmbbbbeeerrrrr!
A late wake-up (thank you Antibiotics) made for a missed Pilates class. But our family tradition of a visit to the tree farm is a tradition that absolutely can't be missed.10 years ago, I'd never heard of a Christmas Tree Farm. Trees were brought by the truckload, and whether purchased from Franks or a corner stand, there was no thought to where the tree came from or who spent the time cutting it down. The fact that there are scores of overlooked trees? Totally missed by this suburban dreamer.
Upon meeting Steve, and learning that Pennsylvania grows the most Christmas Trees in the US (who knew?!), we ventured, me most unwillingly, to the farm. And oh the choices.
Oh. The. Choices.
Noooo... the choices.
I quickly learned that, suddenly, tree selection is oh-so-important to the proper woodsman. And selecting the proper tree could take hours. h-o-u-r-s. H-O-U-R-S.
Yet, year after year, despite runny noses, snowstorms of 2 feet, poor choices amongst evergreens; despite the elements, we trek to the farm. Its a tradition. A family tradition. One involving pictures, challenges, and excitement.
As the boys grow, we note their growth against trees in pictures, searches and discussion. The anticipation and excitment thrills them, which after a morning of hiking, selecting, second guessing, third guessing, running to another and FINALLY chopping down a tree, comes home with the tree, and into our home.
Its the liberty bell ring, the announcement of the celebrations upon us. Our season has started.
Saturday, December 01, 2007
Let it Snow! ... but, please, not until we have our tree
Last Sunday, just like every Sunday, I prepared the calendar for the week. Its a simple task: Sunday nights are planning night. Open my Planner, transfer my plans to the Family Planner that hangs on the fridge, add the usual events like "drop off 9 am" and "Pick-up noon." Next, I select the menu for the week, assign a meal to each night, and compile the grocery list. Finally finishing my plans by ordering groceries for delivery on Monday.
So, last Sunday, as I listed and described the plans, I noticed December upon us. We'd given our Thanks, were scheduled to celebrate Santa's arrival at the West Chester Parade, so lets really make it December. Lets get a tree--early this year. Which is why I drew a tree and wrote "Get Christmas Tree" on the calendar for Saturday morning. Early, we planned, early enough to make it back in time for Wes' swim class.
Early Monday morning, as with all Monday mornings, Carson hurried to the calendar to learn what the week would bring. "Tree? Christmas Tree? Hey! We're getting our tree on Saturday!" And the excitment began. With the cold weather predictions upon us, we bundled up for the parade, and prepared ourselves for our very important morning.
Until Carson was up all night.
Screaming.
Screaming.
Screaming.
That's right. Ear infection. Totally out of nowhere. Suddenly our very important appointment at the tree farm has been replaced by an even more important appointment with the pediatrician. Except, to Carson and Wesley, a date with the pediatrician just doesn't measure up to treking through the dark forest to find that special tree.
Of course, a last minute change doesn't make it to the family planner. And now a very concerned and confused Carson just noticed that we didn't get a tree. And we were supposed to get a tree.
And here we are preparing for an early morning of tree shopping, with the goal to be back before pilates.
And in front of us? The local news. Announcing snow for tomorrow.
So, last Sunday, as I listed and described the plans, I noticed December upon us. We'd given our Thanks, were scheduled to celebrate Santa's arrival at the West Chester Parade, so lets really make it December. Lets get a tree--early this year. Which is why I drew a tree and wrote "Get Christmas Tree" on the calendar for Saturday morning. Early, we planned, early enough to make it back in time for Wes' swim class.
Early Monday morning, as with all Monday mornings, Carson hurried to the calendar to learn what the week would bring. "Tree? Christmas Tree? Hey! We're getting our tree on Saturday!" And the excitment began. With the cold weather predictions upon us, we bundled up for the parade, and prepared ourselves for our very important morning.
Until Carson was up all night.
Screaming.
Screaming.
Screaming.
That's right. Ear infection. Totally out of nowhere. Suddenly our very important appointment at the tree farm has been replaced by an even more important appointment with the pediatrician. Except, to Carson and Wesley, a date with the pediatrician just doesn't measure up to treking through the dark forest to find that special tree.
Of course, a last minute change doesn't make it to the family planner. And now a very concerned and confused Carson just noticed that we didn't get a tree. And we were supposed to get a tree.
And here we are preparing for an early morning of tree shopping, with the goal to be back before pilates.
And in front of us? The local news. Announcing snow for tomorrow.
Speaking of Dreidels
Who ever knew that a toy as simple as a little wooden top could cause so much excitment in a house with boys?
I'm loving it. I've never seen them so calm, and sit so long. Today we played Dreidel for almost 30 minutes. And after the Santa parade, the boys wanted to introduce Daddy to the game.
First big deal: Carson KNOWS the 4 Hebrew letters, and what they mean.
Second BIG deal: Wesley knows the Hebrew Letter, "hay." That's right, we're still working on the color red, but he knows "hay."
So, a brief reminder:
Shin (the one with 3 lines sticking up): Spin a Shin, Put one in
Hay (2 parallel lines with a hat): Spinner gets half the pot
Nun (looks like a fancy bracket): None. You got it. Do nothing.
Gimmel (a bracket who's foot isn't attached): Gimmme Gimme--I get the whole pot!
I'm loving it. I've never seen them so calm, and sit so long. Today we played Dreidel for almost 30 minutes. And after the Santa parade, the boys wanted to introduce Daddy to the game.
First big deal: Carson KNOWS the 4 Hebrew letters, and what they mean.
Second BIG deal: Wesley knows the Hebrew Letter, "hay." That's right, we're still working on the color red, but he knows "hay."
So, a brief reminder:
Shin (the one with 3 lines sticking up): Spin a Shin, Put one in
Hay (2 parallel lines with a hat): Spinner gets half the pot
Nun (looks like a fancy bracket): None. You got it. Do nothing.
Gimmel (a bracket who's foot isn't attached): Gimmme Gimme--I get the whole pot!
Dreidel, Draydel, Draidal
There's a pretty good reason that when you search anything Jewish on Google you have to do about 6 searches--phonetically speaking, you could spell every Hebrew word a million ways--and no way is wrong.
But its a constant point of discussion. And as we get into the Hannukah spirit, I'm facing a lot of confused questions. Seriously, Chanukah, Hanuka, Hanukkah... Phonetically, with accents, they all sound different.
So, tonight, we passed a sign for Donuts and Draydals--a breakfast to celebrate Channukah in 2 weeks. A professional sign. But I've never, ever seen it spelled that way.
Yet... its right.
But its a constant point of discussion. And as we get into the Hannukah spirit, I'm facing a lot of confused questions. Seriously, Chanukah, Hanuka, Hanukkah... Phonetically, with accents, they all sound different.
So, tonight, we passed a sign for Donuts and Draydals--a breakfast to celebrate Channukah in 2 weeks. A professional sign. But I've never, ever seen it spelled that way.
Yet... its right.
Okay... we saw Santa... can we go home now?
Tonight was the annual WC Santa Parade. Which means all day we talked about getting to see Santa. After naptime, I announced that Daddy was coming home tonight, early, so we could go to the parade, and we all needed to get dressed really warm.
Carson: No, Mommy, we can't go... Santa's coming!
So once I re-explained the parade, we got re-dressed. Spent a while sorting through the lonely gloves clubhouse in our hall closet, finally finding everyone, but Daddy, matching gloves. And Carson decided he needed a scarf. Good thing Daddy had 2, and my pink one was too itchy.
Wesley, happy as could be in his hood, refused, of course, to put a hat on.
And off we went. Steve found an amazing parking spot secret, and we made it to "town" within just a few minutes. It was empty. The streets were cleared, but with 25 minutes to go, you'd never know there was a big event coming. I expected people to be staking their spots an hour early. Don't worry, we found the parade crowds... in the new Peace a Pizza.
After a yummy, rushed and very tight dinner, we found a fantastic standing spot on the street and we were ready... for a very looooong parade.
Have to give the WC Chamber some credit. This parade has truly grown. Sure, it was heavily a Faulkner ad, and a chance for the local politicals wave. But we saw Miss Pennsylvania, Miss WCU and Miss Teen PA/Miss Congeniality (aka The Princesses: Three of Them!) There was a LARGE group of Bolivian Dancers. 3 high school bands, the college band and lots of "performers."
Local Celeb Adam Joseph was said to be there, we even saw him riding in a fancy car on the TV news tonight... how he didn't make from the spot he was photographed to our spot, just a half block away, we just don't know. But we didn't see him.
Of course, big celeb was the big man himself: Mr. Claus. After SC passed, we were invited to join the parade. But the 2 and 4 year old head shakers insisted it was too cold and that parade wasn't that fun. "Where's the car?" About 3 blocks away. "Do I have to walk the whole way?" Well, you could jump or leapfrog there. But I'm walking. "What kind of cookie do I get for dessert?"
Of course, lets admit that parades aren't all that fun. You stand. In the cold. And watch HS bands march and play. Maybe you'll get hit on the head with a candy thrown from a decorated tractor. And perhaps you'll see a neighbor Boy Scout and family parading. And then you wait to see what's next. And you wait. And you shiver. And you wait.
Despite the cold, despite the boredom, "Going to the Parade to see Santa Claus" was still Carson's favorite thing today. As for Wesley, he was dazed as he watched everyone walk by. But Santa was there. Period. And that was a big deal.
Carson: No, Mommy, we can't go... Santa's coming!
So once I re-explained the parade, we got re-dressed. Spent a while sorting through the lonely gloves clubhouse in our hall closet, finally finding everyone, but Daddy, matching gloves. And Carson decided he needed a scarf. Good thing Daddy had 2, and my pink one was too itchy.
Wesley, happy as could be in his hood, refused, of course, to put a hat on.
And off we went. Steve found an amazing parking spot secret, and we made it to "town" within just a few minutes. It was empty. The streets were cleared, but with 25 minutes to go, you'd never know there was a big event coming. I expected people to be staking their spots an hour early. Don't worry, we found the parade crowds... in the new Peace a Pizza.
After a yummy, rushed and very tight dinner, we found a fantastic standing spot on the street and we were ready... for a very looooong parade.
Have to give the WC Chamber some credit. This parade has truly grown. Sure, it was heavily a Faulkner ad, and a chance for the local politicals wave. But we saw Miss Pennsylvania, Miss WCU and Miss Teen PA/Miss Congeniality (aka The Princesses: Three of Them!) There was a LARGE group of Bolivian Dancers. 3 high school bands, the college band and lots of "performers."
Local Celeb Adam Joseph was said to be there, we even saw him riding in a fancy car on the TV news tonight... how he didn't make from the spot he was photographed to our spot, just a half block away, we just don't know. But we didn't see him.
Of course, big celeb was the big man himself: Mr. Claus. After SC passed, we were invited to join the parade. But the 2 and 4 year old head shakers insisted it was too cold and that parade wasn't that fun. "Where's the car?" About 3 blocks away. "Do I have to walk the whole way?" Well, you could jump or leapfrog there. But I'm walking. "What kind of cookie do I get for dessert?"
Of course, lets admit that parades aren't all that fun. You stand. In the cold. And watch HS bands march and play. Maybe you'll get hit on the head with a candy thrown from a decorated tractor. And perhaps you'll see a neighbor Boy Scout and family parading. And then you wait to see what's next. And you wait. And you shiver. And you wait.
Despite the cold, despite the boredom, "Going to the Parade to see Santa Claus" was still Carson's favorite thing today. As for Wesley, he was dazed as he watched everyone walk by. But Santa was there. Period. And that was a big deal.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
