Tuesday, December 27, 2011

Christmas 2011

Well, the stockings were hung by the chimney with care and Old St. Nicholas found them there....both boys have said something to me separately today like, Is it really over?  Yeah, really....really?

A friend of mine has a brother who is a child rearing guru, because of course, he dosen't have any children. So as one of her children was screaming while he was trying to talk to her he said very astutely, "Dosen't he know this is not the time of year to be misbehaving!"  Her reply, "No Tom he didn't get he memo."

But she made a very good point to me- who was at the time mad at my own children for the very same thing - missing the memo.  No sooner than the Thanksgiving turkey is carved we drag a tree in the house, start asking what they want for Christmas, bombard them with TV specials and toy ads then get mad when they get all jacked up.
OK, it is a little rude. No, it's a lot rude.

We don't really expect our children to behave one month out of the year.  As parents we expect your children to behave all the time.  But especially at church and your in-laws house, let's call a spade a spade people.  And the reality is they can not keep it together any longer than we can.  Let's face it, even I get squirmy in church and at the in-laws the difference is I am are old enough to drink. I meant think, really I did!!

We have friends who's son is autistic and he is 13 now and is still non verbal.  They are doing some amazing work with a new type of teaching tool called Rapid Prompting Method.  For the first time in 13 years they are inside of their child's head.  They have been working with this for six months or so and it is truly amazing, but the thing that I found fascinating is that as Chirstmas approached he was able to tell his aide that what he needed at Christmas was time "alone with mother in the van" that there was "too many people".

I agree completely.  Sometimes I am overwhelmed with people, especially at the holidays.  I will try to remember that next year as the holiday's approaches and once again I ask more of my children then I expect from myself.  Thanks Cole.

For more on RPM try this link

Friday, December 9, 2011

Nurture vs Porn

My husband and I watched Crazy Stupid Love the other night.  After the movie I was thinking what I needed was a snuggle and time to process the subject matter - my husband thought he needed sex.  Really?? That's not even in the same book - let alone my page!

How is it that men can think about sex every second of everyday about everything.  My back hurts...I can make your back hurt baby.  The tires need rotated....I can rotate your tires.  He wants his dad...Who's your Daddy.  My water just broke....I can STOP

Well, you get where I'm going with this anyway.  Do I not understand because I am a woman, or do I not understand because I never think about sex.  I'll take that back, I think about it every Sunday about 4 p.m. when my husband starts turning everything I say into a come-on and making weird goo goo eyes at me.  Then I think - Oh Shut the front door! Is it Sunday again already?

I have been complaining for years that one man couldn't get it up and I have to sit through a three minute erectile dysfunction commercial every 15 minutes during Modern Family.  But I ask for help and the answer is "Just do it anyway, maybe you'll get into it."  Yes, ladies it was a male Doctor, and he no longer has the use of that testicle.  Let him explain that to his wife!

Tuesday, December 6, 2011

Family Traditions

It's been a weekend for strolling down memory lane.  At Church on Sunday the boys found out they would be Who's in Whoville! They are so excited to get to bring in their Ukulele and Keyboard (Thanks Nanna- we have finally found a place to use these!) and come into the play making NOISE, NOISE, NOISE, NOISE!

Oh, come on! Tell me you don't know the story of How the Grinch Stole Christmas by heart also?
Were we the only family who put on a puppet show every year at Christmas? What? We were? Oh, well let me fill you in.

It seems that some where along the line in my Big Fat American Family we stumbled into a tradition of putting on a puppet show every year at the family Christmas party.  It comes as no surprise to me now that I have two children of my own when I think that there where at most times 20 children running a muck through someones house.

The idea I think sprang from my Uncle Chris who's the self proclaimed "Wild and Crazy Guy!" and my mother the former teacher.  (and total follower you can talk her into anything)  They soon had all 20 of us scrambling through the house looking for puppets, stuffed animals, sleds, props, and of course -Noisemakers.  We would then all crouch behind a bar and act out the story while Uncle Chris or Aunt Barbe narrated and all the other adults watched (and drank I think).

Now I know as my family reads this they are already giggling, maybe even belly laughing as they recall some of these "plays".  This was not a one time thing, this became a production on the grandest scale.  Every family contributing to the puppets and props as it grew large enough for it's own dedicated plastic Christmas tub .  We had an actual Grinch doll, a Ms. Piggy puppet for Cindy Lou Who (which was the funniest because it was a HUGE puppet for that supposedly tiny character), and we had some sort of brown animal puppet with twigs tied to it's head for Max.

The noisemakers where the best part and as you can imagine 20 children when told to "make a lot of noise" can bring the house the down.  That we did.  I don't know what it must have been like from the audience, because even though I did move on by age 12 and give up my space behind the bar to younger cousins, let's face it I was a teenager.  I was looking at it through the judgemental hormonal selfish eyes of a teen.

I can't wait to sit in the audience in a few weeks and watch my boys come traipsing into church making NOISE, NOISE, NOISE, NOISE.  It will just be hard not to critique the director's performance, because nothing will ever take the place of those years in the basement crouched behind the bar.