The boys love Gallagher. So you're not a geek, you just have the mind of a teenage boy. Which may be worse. Although mine are wonderful boys.
And that is what I want to tell you about---
For the last couple of years, and especially this one, I've been so envious of people with small children, of you and Alexa, still in those wonderful Santa years. As Christmas approached, I felt sorry for myself that I no longer had the magic to weave, the rituals to perform. There's not much thrill in taking your child to Best Buy to purchase 600.00 worth of mysterious alien parts so that he can rebuild his computer. Buying a first razor and wrapping a can of shaving cream for Ammo's stocking did not seem aesthetically rewarding somehow. Where's the magic?
One of our traditions is the Christmas Eve gift-the boys are allowed to open one present-and every year it's the same thing-a creche set for Ammo and a Russian nesting doll for CW. This year I decided they had enough of those (I've run out of places to put the darn creche sets-when you have to put them in bathrooms, you really have enough)and was going to start an ornament collection for them. But a couple of days before Christmas CW was looking at his little dolls and said, "I wonder what I'll get this year," and I said, "You won't, I'm doing something different this year."
Indignation spread across his face. "You can't do that!!! I only have one year left!!!" (what? He has a terminal illness he hasn't told me about? He's planning never to come home again?)"You can't change things like that!!"
"But you have so many!" I explained.
"Mom," said Ammo, in a patient tone, "You can never have too many creche sets."
My psychologist friend has told me that if our children have attached to the rituals and traditions of the family, we have succeeded in doing something right, so we rushed out, braving the malls packed with last minute shoppers, (and you know how I hate to shop) and hastily bought a creche and nesting doll.
On Christmas Eve, after church, we all ran around trying to remember where we'd hidden things. Everyone was wrapping presents frantically, (you could tell which were from Ammo on Christmas morning. Too lazy to look for Scotch tape, he used masking tape on his, saying that really it was better, because you could tell where the paper needed to be torn), and Dan and I were trying to get the boys to bed so we could fill the stockings and put out the Santa stuff. CW walked down the hall with his comforter and pillow to Ammo's room. I watched incredulous, as he and Ammo (so often bitter enemies these days)got out their bathrobes (only worn on Christmas) and laid them out on the foot of their beds. Then they set the alarm for 5 am. They have evolved their own rituals through the years and apparently feel it's very important to carry these out-CW sleeps in Ammo's room, they get up before us and CW brings the stockings upstairs where they open them quietly back in bed. Usually we wake up and then we all go downstairs.
This Christmas, Dan and I were awakened by soft piano music (Silent Night)from the living room. When we got downstairs, there the boys were, in their robes, CW at the piano, Ammo waiting with a big hug. They already had coffee made and ready in Christmas mugs for us.
And, Michael, there was the magic! Right there- in their happiness, their loving actions, their joy in the day and in our family, their thrill in giving us the presents they had chosen and wrapped.
All those small things you do day after day, the little rituals you are establishing year after year, all are building a foundation that gives your children a stability and security that will be theirs forever.
As Ammo opened his traditional big stack of books, he gave us the ultimate gift. Beaming at the Stephen King he had just unwrapped, he said, "This is my favorite present. I'm going to do this every year for my kids." |
