When Two Christmases Collide

My husband and I had very different Christmases.

My Christmas was a modest affair of two or three presents per child – one of those presents being a book or clothing. Sometimes I'd make presents for my mom, dad, and siblings. Some years I'd go to K-mart to find on-sale items for gifts for my family. One year, I felt especially bad for my father who had no pajamas and wandered around the house in his undergarments. I was so proud that I had found flannel pajamas for only $5, and bought it for him. I was disappointed when he opened the present, laughed, told me to return it. I now realize he went about in his undergarments by choice.

Santa came ... sometimes. On the years he did come, he never left more than one present. I can still remember looking at the tag on the present that Santa left and realizing it was my sister's handwriting.

But Christmas was no less exciting or wonderful. As a child, I loved the memories we had – the snowmen we made, the sledding down our street onto oncoming traffic, peeking at our presents and rewrapping them while the parents weren't home.

Me, 4 years old, in front of our house in Murray, Utah. 

My husband's Christmas was very different. He and his siblings received four or five times as many presents as I did, as well as mini presents and candies in the stocking, and multiple presents from Santa the next morning. There is nothing wrong with this, in fact, their family's language of love is giving gifts, but it has imbued a mindset in my husband that is now clashing with my mindset. This becomes most apparent when we talk about presents for the kids:

"What else should we get Simon?" My husband asks.
"What do you mean?" I reply.
"Well, we have four presents for Rosie, and three for Simon, maybe we should order more things off of Amazon."
"That's okay. We already got them big things from Santa."
"Yeah, but they need gifts from us too."
"We don't need more. I think Simon is okay with three presents from us. Plus he is so young, he won't even remember it."
"But I will remember it."
"Maybe I can make something for him."
"No, no, none of this making things for gifts."
"Well, they are already getting lots of gifts from grandparents..."

And another conversation about my wrapping the presents:

"Look," I say proudly, "Look at how I've wrapped Simon's present from Santa."
"What? Why is it so big?"
"I wrapped his three Ninja Turtle toys together so it looks like one big present."
"No, don't do that. It will look like Santa gave him less."
"That's okay. It will make it look like a bigger present. One big present."
"Did Santa only bring you one present?"
"Yes."
"Maybe we should get a couple more presents for the kids from Santa..."

To my husband, I must seem like the one always reining us in from spending appropriately on each other. And to me, I'm wondering why my frugality isn't better received. The merging of two childhoods is difficult but not without its lessons.

Lesson #1:
Sometimes the gift giving is more for the giver than the receiver.
It's true that the children won't remember their first few Christmases, but for the parents, it means something to be able to provide for them – give them a surprise.

Lesson #2:
Your child will love the Christmas you give. Especially if they are young, their expectations are moldable. Just give what you can and spend lots of time with them, and their childhood eyes will add sparkles and a warm haze to all of their memories.

So while my husband and I have had different childhood Christmases, we've learned a lot in melding it all together. After all, our Christmases together don't have to feel like the Christmases of old. They can be a new thing, like every adventure we take on.

My kids, 6 months and 2.5 years. 

Grandma Comes to Visit

The last few months have been a blur. Ever since Rosie started VPK, it seems like we can barely keep up with the frantic demands of...well, waking up at a certain time. Nevertheless, Rosie loves school and talks all about her favorite subjects: Victoria, Anna Claire, Beth – all of her friends. "But did you learn anything?" I ask. I guess it's good she is learning relationship management.

With all the craziness of life, it was nice to take it slow and easy when my Mom came to visit. We got to walk a nature trail and sweat and breathe fresh air. Here is a glimpse of some of the memories we had that day:

It's a quick, slapped-together video, but I can't get hung up on perfection. After all, the kids are growing up so fast.

Airplane Travel, Alone, with Two Kiddos

There are two places that give me the most anxiety when dealing with mobile, judgement impaired children: the beach and the airport. Both are fascinating places for children and their first response in these areas is to run away in opposite directions. So when I booked a trip to take a 5 hour flight to see my parents, I tried to be hyper-prepared.

Here are the things I brought to the airport/plane:
1. Lotion/chapstick - because plane travel makes me uncomfortable and shrivel up.
2. Empty sippy cups - because when the airline worker gives me an open cup and a can of juice, I can avoid a splashy situation.
3. Books/Activity books
4. Candy/snacks
5. A kid carrier - so I can at least attach one kid to me when navigating through a crowded airport or a narrow plane aisle.
6. Two tablets with new games/movies and two headphones
7. Light jackets/comfort blankets - to help the kids sleep if they need it.

I thought I was sure to have a smooth ride, but there were a couple of things I did not anticipate...

I booked an evening flight that left Orlando at 6:15 p.m. and pulled into Salt Lake City at 9:00 p.m. (which is really 11:00 p.m. EST). With this timing, I thought the kids might spend half of the plane ride sleeping, because their bedtime is 8:00 p.m. anyway. Whether it was the extra stimulation or the fact that we were flying into more light, they were wired and hopped up THE WHOLE 5 HOURS. Some of this energy was disseminated through voracious video game consumption. But it kept them occupied for much less time than I had expected. When they weren't playing their tablets, they were climbing over each other, buckling and unbuckling their seatbelts, kicking the chair in front of them – I thought, "This is actually a thing? I thought only intentionally mean kids did this."

The next thing that I did not expect was how tight two seats for three people would be. Simon was one week short of two, so he could legally sit on my lap, but no one told him that. He saw his sister have her seat, so he thought he needed one too. There was lots of climbing and shoving and me squishing over. This is how tight it was:

Also, I didn't anticipate how long the gap from put-your-device-away-time to you-can-use-your device-time was. It was a good hour! This is also the gap of time where we are suppose to be buckled and your tray table is supposed to be up. That was hard for the little ones. Something that saved me was slipping Simon a piece of candy every 5 minutes or so. Also, the books and activity books I had brought? They were stuck in the overhead compartment!

Snacks saved us. They excited the kids.

Here we are, landing in Salt Lake City. The sun is finally setting, at 9:00 p.m. My eyes were twitching and bleary at this point.

So it wasn't the smoothest flight, but we had made it alive! The elderly lady next to me, who constantly had Simon slipping to her side or me accidentally elbowing her, said, "Your kids did so good. You are a good mother." I laughed, a little embarrassed because I wasn't sure if she said that because I had struggled a lot or I had actually done a good job. In any case, we stumbled off the plane and didn't look back.

Now if you're wondering how the flight back to Orlando was, it was ironically the easiest flight I had ever taken. It was ironic because my husband was there with me to help. He didn't need to help at all, because the kids decided to sleep the whole red eye.

Rosie slept from the moment we sat her down in the seat till the moment we lifted her up to leave the plane. The people around her were chuckling at her because her zen was so complete. 

In any case, I'm so glad I survived both plane flights. There are moms out there that travel alone with more than two kids, and to them, I stare in admiration and awe. As for me, at least I know I can travel with at least two crazies. 

Two Crazies Make Cupcakes

My little boy turns 2 next week!

It was only yesterday that he looked liked this. Fat, docile, innocent:

Now he looks like this. So skinny the doctor had his blood drawn to see if he had issues, so mischievous that his first response to discipline is laughter, and yet very sweet:

He's an interesting character. He loves zombies and kissing. He shadows his sister like a cult follower, and he insists on yelling loudly, "booger!" every time he finds something in his nose. He also has a quick temper, and after watching Dragon Ball Z has decided that the best way to solve his problems is to karate chop you or kamehameha wave you. Sometimes he just squints and smiles at you because he knows it will make you laugh.

So in anticipation of turning two, I edited a video of Rosie and Simon making cupcakes together a couple months back. They saw a video I had made of their cousins when they were the same age and thought it was so fun, they wanted their own video. However, in the video with their cousins, my sister was there to monitor and help the process. In this video, I am behind the camera and cringing as they have a go at it by themselves.

Still, in the end cupcakes are cupcakes, and everyone loved it. 😍

"Frozen": A Mind-Boggling Obsession

"Look at my Frozen underwear!" Rosie exclaims proudly, showing off her new purchase.
"Hmmm, sounds cold," her dad quips.

It's the norm in our house to talk about Frozen for a lot of the day. Whenever I call Rosie by her name, she snaps back, "No! My name is Elsa." Even Simon, our 2 year-old, is starting to call Rosie, Elsa. I don't know if that is healthy.

I wouldn't consider Elsa the best role-model. Ever since Rosie has been studying Frozen, she's been slamming a lot of doors and trying to look moody. She says things like, "I'm going to run away, like Elsa." She also looks very serious and says, "I can never be Elsa. I don't have white hair. I wish I had white hair."

I don't know why a lot of girls gravitate towards Disney characters like Elsa or Cinderella or Belle rather than Mulan or Moana. Perhaps it's the dress! In Frozen, the climax of the film for Rosie is when Elsa sheds her old dress and magically creates a new blue and shimmering dress. It's like Rosie's pupils dilate whenever it comes to that part. So perhaps what Disney needs to do is create strong, mentally-stable heroines that ALSO get a cool dress mid-film.

Anyway, Rosie really wanted me to make a film of her singing "Let It Go," so here it is. Keep in mind, this is a really slap together job, but I love it anyway because it captures her in the height of her obsession. She also yawns and messes up words, which I think is cute because after all her love of the song, she is just a little kid and that's okay.

Top 10 Funniest Things Rosie Has Said

Rosie is a jokester. Even when she could barely talk, she'd try to say words funny or flat-out wrong just to make me laugh. But I laugh the hardest when she says things that reveal her innocence and unique perspective.

Here are the top 10 funniest things Rosie has said:

1.
Her: What's that?
Me: That's a silverfish.
Her: No, that's a bug!

2.
(Hands me a leaf)
Enjoy!

3.
(Sees me grating a sweet potato)
There's carrots inside!

4.
Daddy has a penis. Simon has a penis. Penis, penis. They're matching!

5.
(To her shark in her videogame)
Have a nice drown!

6.
(While drawing a self portrait)
God gave us long eyelashes to make our eyes pretty.

7.
When I was a baby, did I have a penis?

8.
My poops are trying to come out to join their friends from yesterday.

9.
Her: I want to have two daddies.
Me: Why?
Her: So Simon and I could both ride on shoulders.
Me: Where are we going to get another daddy?
Her: We take someone else's daddy!

10:
Excuse my butt.

Part of me hopes that a filter will develop when she is older so she doesn't alienate her peers, and part of me hopes the craziness from her mouth will never stop.

Painting and Building a Brain Machine

I heard on a podcast that from the ages of 0-3 years old, the human brain is being developed or "built." It is the most critical and formative time in a person's life because it sets the stage for how well they will take in information and learn for the rest of their life. Something the speaker in the podcast said scared me to death. She said that basically at the end of 3, the machine of the brain has been built and set, so if they are behind in their language and cognitive abilities, they are not only behind on a metaphorical track but they are not likely to catch up because they are a slower runner.

I turn to look at Rosie in the backseat of the car, at the cusp of turning 4. She was singing about zombies and changing the lyrics of songs to contain words like poop and toot. Have I taught her everything she needs to know to enter preschool, to learn to work hard, to be compassionate? It's hard to say because I don't have any basis of comparison, but it opened my mind to how complex and amazing the human mind is - and how dearly it needs to be nurtured in it's early years.

Just the other day, I put my 3 year old and 1 year old down in front of a white piece of paper and some paints. I expected random lines and squiggles, but instead they proceeded to produce paintings of pattern and order.

Here is Rosie's series of paintings. She entitled it, rainbow:

Here is Simon's series of paintings. He kept on saying, "I! I!" as he painted, so I can only imagine by the circles he meant, "eye."

If paintings are the window into these little children's minds, I'm amazed at what they see. It's beautiful and nightmarish at the same time, haha.

In any case, I'm glad that perhaps all the long repetitive hours of staying home with my children, reading the same book over and over (at their request), playing paints, stirring the dough for cookies, splashing in the bathtub – all these mundane things – have not been in vain. Hopefully I am building an okay brain machine.

p.s. The speaker in the podcast was Dana Suskind, author of "Thirty Million Words, Building a Child's Brain." https://www.amazon.com/Thirty-Million-Words-Building-Childs/dp/0525954872