Month: December 2007

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Too Late for This Year, But …

Okay. I’m leaving for the big in-law dinner in the burbs any second now, but I want to share one little idea. I’m proud of this one.

Get your kids to make wrapping paper by drawing on craft paper! This makes the little one’s feel involved and is so very sweet and it’s eco-friendly to boot.

Also, I’m learning that being Santa is as much work as it is fun. But it brings back that old Christmas-y excitement of my childhood and I love being a mom at this time of year.

Merry, merry Christmas! I’ll be back in a couple days with the post-game analysis.

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Trees, Trees, Trees

Growing up, we always got a real tree, but never more than one week before Christmas. (And often not more than a day or two before.) There was, therefore, a long-standing tradition of scrambling around, from one parking lot to the next, searching for any remaining trees. My husband and I have more or less carried on that tradition, but without the luxury of a vehicle, since we’ve been married.

So when my mother-in-law asked whether we wanted to drive out of the city and cut down our tree this year, I was skeptical. It was more than two weeks early, and I just didn’t know what Christmas tree hunting will be like without that special holiday desperation in the air. Figuring that it’s only fair for my husband to get to indulge in his childhood holiday traditions (no matter how predictable the outcome) from time to time, I acquiesced. And it was okay.

The tree farm was a good hour’s drive from the city core, and the smallest tree starts at $45. But our tree is beautiful and Colum got to spend the better part of a day getting it. Driving into the “country”, trudging through the snow, “helping” Grandpa saw the tree down, and watching the farm worker truss it makes for a real experience. Whether searching the city streets or choosing a tree to cut down, the point is to make a true occasion out of it.

Post Script: We have decorated our tree now, and the ornamentation is delightfully bottom heavy. At one point there were five shiny balls all hanging from one branch. They have since been dispersed during the daily ornament shuffle, and I’m predicting at least a few will turn up during spring cleaning.

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Season’s Greetings

I’m going to have to keep holiday hours in the coming weeks here at Playground Confidential. Christmas is approaching and my weekends and evenings are full of festive obligations. I’m also picking up extra shifts to help staff company parties and pay Santa’s bills. (It’s amazing how quickly a 19-month old grasps the idea of a fat bearded man in a red suit arriving via reindeer-drawn sleigh to bring him presents.) I will try to post as often as possible because I’m sure there will be lots of holiday-fueled topics I’ll be eager to write on. I probably won’t be able to mix in as many longer, thoughtful posts as I would normally. And who has time to read more than a paragraph or two at this time of year anyway!

(Picture courtesy of www.lycos.co.uk)

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Sick Daze

I put Colum to sleep tonight and tried not to look around at all. Even though my attention was firmly affixed to the new episode of Gossip Girl (such a guilty pleasure), it still felt like my home had been hit by a freakishly localized tornado. And then come under attack by robbers and vandals.

Last week I wrote about the importance of routine, and this week I can testify to the chaos brought about by ditching your routine for five days straight. Colum is fine, of course. Better than ever, in fact. It’s the state of my apartment and my own mental equilibrium that are the main victims here. It was a fever that kept us inside all day Friday. It then kept Colum and Dad home on Saturday (while I was at work). By Sunday the fever had given way to diarrhea (yay!) and a rash-covered back. On Monday morning, Colum’s spirits were returning (if not his appetite), but the rash had spread to his stomach and chest. Our doctor couldn’t squeeze him in for a couple days, but my internet research suggests this is probably a mild case of roseola and nothing to worry about. Still, it’s cold and snowy and he could be contagious, so we stay in. By today I am completely stir crazy. We head over to my parent’s home where I know my brother is recovering from last week’s U of T essay madness. We eat lunch and loll about and nap and snack and then come home and read and eat dinner and pull many, many books off many, many shelves. Looking up from Graham Greene’s The Power And The Glory, Colum says, “No pic-ers.” He then puts that one book neatly back on the shelf and we get ready for bed.

I need my days broken into bite-sized pieces, it seems. If we are doing something in between breakfast and lunch, then tidying up is part of the breakfast routine. When we just hang around, so do the dishes. And so does the laundry and the rest of the mess. A sick boy needs extra attention, though, and that’s excuse enough for me.