Holiday Happiness

I came home from work yesterday giddy with the anticipation of decorating the house for Christmas.  Eric pulled out all of the bins o’ Christmas so that everything would be ready to go. You see last year, when my daughter and I decided it was time to decorate, by the time we pulled everything out the moment had passed. It was very anti-climactic. I made a mental note to be much better prepared next time.

Decorating this year had all of its usual charm – and its shenanigans.  There was a healthy dose of happiness and excitement mixed with equal parts fighting and meltdowns (adults included). For a long time I held onto the fantasy of decorating my house as it was before children. You know, Christmas music playing, sipping tea, shedding a tear while I pulled out ornaments from my past – it was wonderful.  I came to hate my kids on decorating day – they were ruining everything! They were breaking sentimental ornaments, crying and trying to put their crappy crafts on my beautiful tree.

I don’t think my daughter will ever forget when she was admiring a snow globe my youngest sister gave me in 1993! and then proceeded to accidentally drop it on the floor. All I could do was watch in horror as it smashed – and scream - a primal scream that has probably emotionally scarred my poor daughter for life.

I do love to hear the kids excited about decorations they remember from Christmases past. I still remember those from my own childhood. There was the silver bell that played, well, Silver Bells that hung in our kitchen, the red wax carolers that we placed on the mantle and the patterned cloth of knotted spices that hung on the back of our door. I can even remember the smell of my house at Christmas – it was a combination of the wax and spices.  Oh how I loved Christmas as a child and all the magic it held. Over time, special traditions have continued while some slip away to make room for new ones.  I think it is the ones that have slipped away that make me look back with such fond nostalgia.

                                                  1983

Time, patience and wisdom have taught me to enjoy decorating with children. It is still wonderful. It is just different. I suppose I have significantly lowered my expectations. We now have two trees – one for white lights and glass ornaments that I have had since I was a teenager and a real tree with coloured lights and all of the homemade ornaments it can hold. I decorate in spite of the crying and fighting. I just tune it out and carry on like they are not even there. I still cry when I pull out ornaments but now I cry when I see those crappy crafts that hold a moment in time from one of my children’s past – a traced hand, a scribble or a picture of their beautiful face. 

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And now, a list of what I consider Christmas musts.

Happy Christmas! (That’s British for Merry Christmas and sometimes I secretly wish I was British)

Music

Songza – This is an app for your ipod and there is also Songza.com.  It is a compilation of amazing playlists for whatever mood you are in and there is even a concierge to help you find the right play list. It has been playing the perfect mix of holiday music for hours on end in our house.

I have come to the conclusion that one of my favourite Christmas songs is Do They Know It’s Christmas Time? Weird, I know.

Movies
I know that I am not going to be telling most of you anything new but here is a list of the movies that I try to watch every Christmastime.

It’s A Wonderful Life

I force Eric to watch this with me every Christmas Eve after the kids have gone to bed while we finishing wrapping gifts. I love everything about this movie.

The Family Man

A  Christmas classic (I think) with Nicolas Cage as a single businessman who gets a glimpse of the life he missed by not having a family.

Elf

Will Ferrell as a man-elf. I laughed my ass off with a bunch of ten year old strangers in the movie theatre when I first saw this. My kid’s favourite.

The Holiday  

Cameron Diaz, Kate Winslet, Jude Law and Jack Black. It thought everyone had seen this movie by now but I just introduced it to a friend for the first time. I LOVE this movie.

Love Actually

Another GREAT movie. Really, if you haven’t seen this where have you been??? NOT for children.

A Christmas Story
This one just gets better every time I watch it. A great family night kind of movie.

Christmas Vacation

Probably the best Christmas movie ever made. (The period at the end of the sentence should be said out loud)

Dr. Seuss’ How the Grinch Stole Christmas

The Polar Express

Feel free to keep the list going by leaving your ideas in the comments list!

The Best of Me

I am not always proud of the things I think, say or do.  I try and hold myself to high moral standards but I fall dramatically short on a daily basis.  Sometimes I pick up garbage I walk by and sometimes I just look guiltily at it and keep going. Sometimes after I speak with someone who rubs me the wrong way I just keep it to myself and other times I unleash a verbal bashing that could very likely send me straight to hell.  The other morning, on my way into a meeting at ‘head office’ I had a moment that, had it been caught on camera (oh God I hope it wasn’t caught on camera), would confirm that I am a horrible person.

Ok. Let’s go back to that morning. I left the house with about two minutes to spare to get downtown, pick myself up a cup of tea, stop at the bakery for a muffin and get on my way to my out of town meeting. It was raining that morning and for some reason I skipped my rain coat for my wrap – bad move. I arrived at the meeting with exactly two minutes to spare and now all I had to do was walk into the building.

Let me go back to earlier in the morning when I spent a large portion of my getting ready time straightening my hair. Now, when I straighten my hair I expect it to last me three days – no moisture is to come into contact with it and I take great pains to protect it. Why, you may (or may not) be asking yourself did I not wear a raincoat with a hood then? An excellent question to which there is no answer.

Before I got out of the car I took off my wrap and draped it over my head. As I walked around to the passenger door to get my material (a large box) for the meeting and my tea my wrap kept sliding down and covering my eyes.  I had it mostly stabilized when I picked up the box and carefully balanced my tea on top. I had a long way to walk to the front door but I had seen a woman walk to the back of the building which was much closer to my car so I tried to follow her into the building that way.

My walk to those doors must have looked like I was attempting some sort of new-wave martial art while I tried to keep my cloak on my head and my tea on my box. I was lifting my knees, bending my head forward and walking like I was straddling something. It was so awkward and humiliating but I was determined to do it. When I got to the back doors they were of course locked. I used my knee to balance the box again and tried knocking. Wasn’t there anyone to help a woman clearly in distress?

I turned away irritated and headed for the front doors. Seconds later my coat began to slip and I tried desperately to keep it in place without using my unavailable hands. But my moves must have been too abrupt and my tea (that I drove downtown to get) began to slip. There was nothing I could do but watch it fall and explode on the ground. It lay in pieces – cup, lid, tea bag- in a puddle of tea and an actual puddle. This was clearly not my finest hour.

Shamefully, I looked around, pulled my wrap down one more time and said F*** it. That’s right. I just walked away from the mess I had made at my place of employment.  Not to mention how incriminating the garbage was. I might have been one of only two people who drove in from Stratford and I was carrying a cup that was very distinctly from Stratford.  Once I had composed myself in the meeting, I knew I would go back before leaving to clean up my mess. I also thought a photo of the tea cup carnage would make a great visual to go along with the story I knew I was going to write about. I was mortified when I returned and found someone else had already cleaned it up (and let’s face it I was disappointed to lose the visual).

And all of this for my hair - vanity at its worst. Had I seen one of my own children acting the way I did that morning – like an idiot I would have told them to smarten up and give their head a shake. And had I further seen them drop something and just leave it on the ground I would have told them I was ashamed of them and that I had raised them better.

Yes, I have many moments that are less than shining. Moments, that if I were to be judged by, would certainly secure my place in Dante’s inferno and probably cost me most of my friends. But there is more to me than just my worst of me. I can be selfish, difficult, high maintenance and a litter bug for sure but not always and thankfully, our friends, those we can really trust will laugh at worst parts of us because the best of us it worth it.

 This is very close to the way I looked that morning except I was carrying the box balancing my tea and I wasn't smiling.

 

 

Fa la la la la

Can you feel it? It is almost here. There are handmade tombstones on our front lawn, there is Halloween candy in the dish and the kid’s costumes are ready to go. And yet, I find myself wishing for Halloween to hurry up and get over with so I can start playing my Christmas CDs.  Oh yes, the Christmas spirit, while still under the surface, is beginning to swell inside me. This might make some of you stop reading right now but I am not ashamed of my love for all things Christmas.

No, you won’t hear me complaining about stores decorating for Christmas too early. Christmas music and the whole holiday season is the most beautiful time of the year and I want to wallow in it as long as possible. Even the kids are feeling it. Just the other day they asked if we could watch Elf for family night. It is a true Christmas classic (I was proud of them for this selection) but I had to resist my own temptation and convince them that Hocus Pocus was a more reasonable choice for this time of year.

I used to think November was the worst month of the year – so dark and gloomy – what was I thinking?  It is another full month to enjoy all that is Christmas. I do try and wait until after Remembrance Day to pull out any decorations. I don’t want to be tacky. It is always a little strange as well to be in full-blown Christmas mode and then head to Buffalo to celebrate the super late American Thanksgiving with my husband’s family.

Ah, it seems like just yesterday we were splashing in the waves at the beach on Labour Day to say goodbye to summer and in the blink of an eye we are about to usher in lights, tinsel and shortbread. Before the season is fully upon us the McCabes have a little homework to do.  You see, we focus fully on the commercial side of the Christmas season. There has never been any discussion on its religious significance. Shameful, I know.

This slight oversight became very pronounced at our annual Christmas Eve open house a year or two ago when one the visiting kids announced that it was Jesus’s birthday to which my son replied, ”Who’s Jesus?” 

For now, we’ll try and keep focussed on the fun of Halloween and I will simply enjoy the anticipation of being on the brink of non-stop Christmas music, holiday shopping and everyone being just a little bit happier. 

Happy Halloween...I suppose.

 

 

 

 

Fall Fog

Well, it’s been a long time. A long time considering I once penned a page or so faithfully every week.  Many thoughts have come and gone but none have seemed to draw me to my computer. I knew once I gave myself permission not to write every week it would be a slippery slope to hardly ever getting around to it.  I’m a bit of an all or nothing kind of girl. You know, I either don’t drink at all or I have four cosmos before everyone else has finished their first drink (ok, this hardly ever happens but there is never just one cosmo).

I would say I am emerging from a fog that hung over me all of September.  I was exhausted every day, all day. I was too tired to even lie on my couch at night. How is that even possible? Most nights I was collapsing in bed before all of the kids were tucked in for the night. My favourite time of day is when the kids are in bed and I was too tired to enjoy it.

When we approach September (teacher or not) it feels like a time of renewal. It’s like the mid-year version of January. You know, get back on track, start fresh; that kind of thing. So I think we all go into September excited and happy and then the reality of our lives – specifically the pace of our lives – smacks us in the face. The routine I was craving all of sudden seems unmanageable. How can anyone be this busy and be happy??? Each day was a blur of getting up, going to work, making dinner, trying to have some form of family time, bedtime (which in our house is a complete gong show) and then going to bed ourselves. I felt unable to sustain the life I had created for myself.

Thankfully, October arrived and the fog has seemed to lift. Clearly I have just adapted, once again, to the pace of our lives because it certainly has not become any less busy. Now when the kids are in bed I have again found the energy to have a couple of hours to myself; To veg on the couch watching tv, to look through magazines and just to putter around and feel on top of things once more.  We even started a movie at ten o’clock on a Thursday night last week - and finished it (How couldn’t we - Rock of Ages is a classic).

It feels good to feel myself again.  This life that seems so crazy at times is our life and it is the only life I would ever want.  Next year, when September approaches I will remind myself that while it is one of my favourite times of year it is equally one of my least favourites – if that makes any sense at all.

 

Cut

It is almost too soon to be writing about this topic, as the emotions are still so raw and so close to the surface. But sometimes, these things are best captured when the feelings are still swirling, still right there.

No one has died. I have not found out I have an incurable disease. We have not lost the house. But on Wednesday night my son and I walked into the dressing room on the final night of hockey tryouts and received the blow that he had been cut. The room seemed to collapse on both of us.

Now, some of you might roll your eyes at this (maybe even I would have not so long ago) and think there are much bigger problems in the world than not making a hockey team.  There are; of course there are.  But at that moment, and still now, it hurts.  It hurts to see my son upset, left behind and left out. It hurts to see our friends move on without us and to be uncertain about the future.

There were no politics involved, nothing to make me shout, “Wait! This is unfair. I want justice!”  No, he just wasn’t quite ready for the ‘big leagues’. It is almost harder not to have anyone to blame.

My son walked out of the dressing room strong. My eyes on the other hand began welling up almost immediately.  Leaving the arena, I did not want to make eye contact with anyone and by the time we reached the parking lot I was on the verge on becoming a blubbering disaster.  You see, I wanted to go to the final cut so I could be the one with him to hear he had made it.  I was not the right parent to deal face to face with his rejection.

It was not until we got home, wrapped in the strong but loving arms of his dad that our little guy fell apart (at least one of us had the sense not to cry in public). Then we were all hugging and telling our beloved son – and each other – that everything was going to be okay.

Prior to this year, getting cut from a team did not really bother #8.  He was just happy to be playing the game. And damn it, I wanted him to care.  But now he does care and I wish we could go back. Not caring would make all of this a lot easier. He is almost nine now and the carefree days of sport being only for fun are fading.  He has learned the hard way that there is more to sport that just playing and that is simply a part of growing up.

This weekend, he will play for his new team and sooner than later these difficult days will be in the past. He will make new friends and find his role once again. The game rolls on and we will (try to) roll with it.

Domestic Shortcomings

Well this blog practically wrote itself. We have entered the world of competitive dance and my daughter has her first ballet class tomorrow night. I sent her with a good friend (very good friend) to purchase her ballet shoes, tights, foot undies, shorts, etc. in preparation for the season. I say very good friend because shopping at the annual dance wear sale ranks among her least favourite and most stressful activities of her calendar year.

They returned home successful. Although the trying on of my daughter’s ballet shoes became quite a spectacle when everyone gathered round to see the six year old with the biggest and widest feet they had ever seen. She’ll thank me for those later.

When I looked at the ballet shoes I was sure that there was something wrong with them because the elastics that go around her feet were only attached at the back. Now why would said good friend come home with a ‘broken’ pair of ballet shoes?

After placing a distress call I learned the slippers were in fact, not broken, but had to be sewn to fit my daughter’s (gigantic) feet.  This was not good.  I don’t sew. I used to sew; in grade eight home economics class but I cannot recall sewing since.

It was too late to ask for anyone else to do this. She needed these ready for tomorrow. I booted up my laptop and pulled up a YouTube video on how to attach elastics to ballet shoes. I wanted to have the necessary materials ready so I went to get a needle and thread.  Right. I don’t know where we keep our needles and thread. So, I had to ask my husband where he keeps his sewing supplies. In his closet I found a nice basket with a fairly large variety of needles, scissors and thread. Perfect. At least one of us can claim some competence in this area. Wait a minute. Why isn’t HE doing this???

I started the first video of a wonderful, domestically capable mother who did an excellent job of explaining and showing the process. I did have to watch the video several times and I replayed one particular part (about folding on the pencil mark) about twenty times. I apologized to my daughter who was watching me unravel and told her that her mommy had other strengths and that one day I hoped she would remember those and not this moment of shame.

I began to sew. F***! F***ing h*ll! The expletives were flying fast and furious. Who sells broken ballet shoes anyway?  But I stayed focussed and persevered. I was going to fight my way through cramping hands and pricked fingers.

An hour later and approximately four centimeters of elastic sewn, the shoes were finished. It felt good that I had done this for my daughter. We are in this dance thing together; for better or for worse or until the next pair of ‘broken’ shoes comes along. And if nothing else, I had to try and make up for endowing her with gigantic feet.

So Long Summer

Well, this may be a little premature to say this fine mid-August day but according to everyone on the street - it might as well be over.  It seems most of us are feeling the super-speed at which the summer has passed. I am pretty sure that we all say it every year, how fast the summer has gone by, but it does seem to get incrementally quicker with each passing year. It must have something to do with – ugghh – our age.

Only a handful of weeks ago the summer laid ahead with all of its wondrous possibilities. The summer - at the end of June, not to be confused with the summer nearing the end of August - held endless potential.  There were going to be regular trips to the beach; my entire house was to be de-cluttered; the children were going to keep up with their reading and writing; Eric and I were going to sit on our back deck more; I was going to actually play tennis instead of just making a donation to the tennis club; my son was going to golf regularly. I think a sufficient picture of wasted opportunity has been painted.

A small sense of panic has set in to make the most of the last remaining weeks.  I am not sure we have had enough family time. Yet, as soon as were all together for any length of meaningful time, we are certain we have. I am not sure whether the kids have had sufficient ‘down-time’. You know, that elusive creative time you envision the kids having-making interesting discoveries and learning who they really are.  Well, there were no creative, or otherwise, breakthroughs but there was certainly time for them to tell me that they were bored enough times.

I don’t think the summer we create in our minds during those first long days ever really comes to fruition.  And maybe our best laid plans wouldn’t have been so great anyway. In spite of missed time to tutor the kids (which really sounds like a terrible idea when said aloud), book shelves and closets that are busting with clutter and too few tennis and golf games; this summer has been a great summer . There have been late nights in the backyard with the kids playing with friends and walks into town-enjoying our city. There have been movie nights and date nights and nights with nothing at all. And we still have the last few weeks of summer which are sometimes the sweetest of all.

So, so long endless summer days when the kids would not go to bed before 10pm and so long humidity. So long to sun-screening uncooperative children and wondering whether or not to turn on the A/C. So long to questioning if I am making the most of the summer and hello to just enjoying what is left.  There is no point in mourning what is already lost - time to just enjoy the present.  August sometimes offers the best of summer with warm days and cool nights – the ones that secretly make you excited for Fall’s arrival.

Yes, the summer has gone by quickly but it seems all time goes by quickly now; which is why we best just enjoy each day as it comes.