2002-12-29 - 9:48 p.m.
The holidays kind of lasso your life and hold it captive for a while. I am so incredibly glad just to finally go free of it all, and run back to my everyday existence. There were some high points though, which I will briefly list:
We had a fun Christmas eve at my mother's house. It was the first time since last Christmas that we had everyone together at the same time. The "new" Italian sausage soup recipe was a hit.
My two oldest nephews (in college) brought their girl friends. The boys all seem suddenly so grown up. Was it only a few years ago we had a house full of sulky teens in faded rock band t-shirts who only got excited about gross out tv shows? And here.... were these charming young men with their sweet little girl firends, all looking like J Crew models. That is the amazing thing about boys... they go through such an yucky period, and just when you think they are probably hopeless, they turn into great guys.
The gift highlight of the evening was definitely the guinea pig. Freddie opened up the package containing a little wooden guinea pig "hut." He was trying to be polite, although his face fell. Skootie and I rushed to bring the guinea pig up from its hiding place. Freddie looked into the plastic tub and saw the shavings and water bottle and little box that we had placed in the corner as a hideaway for the guinea pig. And of course it was hiding out of sight.
"That's really nice, but.... um.... my guinea pig died." Freddie said rather sadly. He thought he was receiving a new guinea pig house, and he had already been told he wasn't getting another pet.
And then we showed him, the little "chocolate and peanut butter" colored creature nestled down in the cedar shavings. He was so surprised and thrilled. No guinea pig will ever have a better home. Before the evening was over, he had given it a name: Charles Ray. And his mother later reported that after they went home, he stayed up after midnight making it a little sleeping bag!
We did kind of a funny musical thing this year. My mother bought a "family band" kit that had a tamborine, maraccas, bongos, and several other rhythm instruments. We contributed a triangle and some shakers, and brought our African folk instruments. Skootie made a special CD of Christmas songs with a good beat, and we all sort of "played along." It was pretty funny, since most of us had no real idea what to do, and we were all doing something different. Especially my brother playing the tonette, with conviction if not tune. It was a good time, but I don't think we are ready to get a bus.
We spent Christmas day with Skootie's mother and step-father....just the four of us. When we are with them, I try to be appreciative of the fact that they have welcomed me into their family circle and they do host a very impressive celebration. We sat in their elegantly appointed living room, sipping champaigne from crystal glasses, around the christmas tree decorated with valuable imported blown glass ornaments, and watched them open their very expensive gifts to each other. As usual, their gift to Skootie was a promise to "take you shopping." Which sometimes doesn't happen, and is fraught with pitfalls when it does. I received a couple of small pottery ovenware dishes and a subscription to a cooking magazine. Which was nice. But anyone who knows me at all knows that I am not much of a cook.Skootie spent a big chunk of the day hooking up a home theatre system for her step-father (who doesn't know how to do it, but has to be the boss), while I helped her mother with dinner. She's really quite nice. But. We have so nothing in common that it is a strain to come up with a topic of conversation. We ended up talking about the mafia for a long time. Here's me on Christmas day, dredging my brain for any bit of trivia I know about the mafia in order to hold up my end of the conversation. It was a bit of a long day.
Next in the holiday lineup was our evening with (my son and daughter-in-law) Cary and Kim.We decided to wait until the 26th because we all had so many other obligations. So we all went out to eat together, and then gave each other "stocking" gifts. In years past we have exchanged fairly expensive gifts with them, and this year we decided to just get little fun things and keep it to a minimum. It was a good idea and we had a fun evening. But I felt like I still went overboard a bit on the stockings, and then kind of wished I hadn't. Maybe it was just that it was the first year in my whole life as a parent that I didn't try to give my son something he really wanted on Christmas. It is like step number 1,354,895 in the growing up and away process, when your kid says "Let's just spend time together and not do big presents..."
And now.... my precious vacation and is rushing by at the speed of light. I have kept this mental list of everything I thought I would do "over break." It would probably be hard to do everything I expected to do in two months, much less two weeks. And what I have done so far is: clean. Yes, that was first on the list. We are actually doing all that cleaning that we didn't have time to do all fall, as we struggled through our many committments. It feels good to get the house truly in order and organized. But....
One of the many contradictory things about my character is that I only feel good about myself when I am getting a lot done, and yet I put off doing many of the things that would make me happy because I always think I have so much to do. My sister and I were having a conversation about this the other day. She was telling me that she created nice moments for herself every day, just by maybe sitting down with a cup of coffee, lighting a candle, putting on a favorite piece of music.... and she feels free to have a nice moment even if there are dirty dishes in the sink, and the house is a mess. Whereas I would say: that's a great idea, I'll do that just as soon I get everything all cleaned up and organized, and then it will be perfect. And then somehow I never quite get around to it, the moment is gone and something else needs my attention. So... I'm going to try to have some "moments," too. Even if I don't get everything done.
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