Every toy has been unwrapped, opened, put together, had batteries installed and played with. Now to shove them in a corner so the boys can play with the toys Jackson got for his first birthday three years ago. Matching outfits are packed away never to be seen again until the above picture comes out at some holiday get together 20 years from now.
Elfie has returned to the North Pole… (thank god)!!! Santa has come and gone and in his wake is enough cardboard and wrapping paper to pollute the Mississippi River (I still can’t spell without that little tune we learned in third grade). Only one wine glass was broken yet somehow 30 more boxes of decorations than we owned last year seem to have made their way into the attic.
I’ve written about this before, but I still contend that the day after Christmas (especially for someone with OCD) is the worst “day after holiday” of the year. Yea, I know what I’m saying… I was up all night and celebrated a Packers Super Bowl win just a few years ago and had to get up early the next day for work, but that was a joyous wake up… my team won the Super Bowl, so who cares about that day after… I get it… but for me the day after XMAS has always been a disaster.
However, this year… I tried to let it go as best as I could. I let stuff stay out, I didn’t pack up ornaments or the garland on the mantle. the leftovers weren’t nearly packed in separate Tupperware (yup… that’s right, I just covered them with tinfoil). I allows my children to play with their toys and didn’t even make them put one away before playing with another. I sat comfortably while a fire burned warmly in the fireplace, and enjoyed watching my two little boys play together with all the new toys Santa left them the day before.
This Christmas was about them… not me… not anyone… just them… and I enjoyed that much more than a day of OCD controlled cleaning and organizing like I usually do on December 26th… (at least for today).
“Just one Christmas tree bite…” Let’s do this Santa! Enjoy the cookies. Jax really enjoyed making/eating them!!!
PS: When you try to get at least one good picture of all three cousins on their first XMAS Eve together:
I think it’s safe to say Jax is going to pretty high maintenance like his dad… but this Oliver kid? Not him… he’s a keep it simple and get straight to the point kind of kid.
Case in point: Oliver’s first letter to Santa (circa Dec. 2017):
I guess it’s time this Elf on a Shelf thing happens. He’s here… And I can’t say anything to change that. Santa has a lot going on. I know that. You know that… we all know that. So of course he has little helpers everywhere and this house is no different.
Elfie is here to check things out. He’s just going to be a silent observer of sorts as Santa described. Bottom line… when Santa asks you for a favor… well, he’s not the type of person you can deny.
When your kid won’t eat breakfast… but your elf will. #Christmas2017 #Elfie
Great way to motivate your kid to start piano lessons. (PS Elfie is no Beethoven). #Christmas2017 #Elfie #PianoLessons #NiceHairJax
This has been the most elaborate Elfie appearance so far and will probably be the most elaborate one of the season…
PS: Is this a Flour Angel or crime scene body outline?
I’ve resorted to this. #Elfie #Christmas2017
And this effectively ended Elfie’s life… you don’t sit near, let alone in, Buster and Max’s food bowl and expect to live to tell the story. Thanks for a fun run Elfie… sorry your hat and leg were gnawed off.
I’m not sure how or why Elfie makes such a difference in some households… maybe it’s because here we don’t spend six hours suspending him and props from the ceiling with elaborate decorations… but our kid could care less about this thing, who he reports to and what the repercussions may be from misbehaving.
Case in point… RULE NUMBER ONE of fight club… don’t talk about fight club… RULE NUMBER ONE of Elf on a Shelf… don’t touch the Elf on a Shelf. To Jax this means… literally not only touch the Elf, but take him and body slam him repeatedly and then launch him into orbit. We’re screwed with this kid… Santa I hope you packed enough coal.
Waking up before your two year old on Christmas morning is like finding Bigfoot. It’s like discovering the Lockness Monster. It happens once in a lifetime. But it happened here on Sunday. A real life miracle.
Coffee was brewing and I was able to conduct a full home inspection to make sure Santa wasn’t still lurking around somewhere. I heard somewhere on the internet that the last one up on Christmas Morning gets to open the first present. Jax must have read that one too, because he slept in like he was on vacation (in all reality I guess he’s always on vacation).
The walk down to see what Santa brought wasn’t as exciting as I’d expected. I guess Santa and “Bammy” are one in the same? Once we were able to coax him down to the Christmas tree the wrapping paper and cardboard boxes became airborne and toys flooded the family room floor. The people who thought up Peppa Pig and the good folks over at Disney’s who created Frozen made a fortune off of this household.
I think this is the last year we are going to get away with a relatively “small Christmas.” Now that Jackson and Santa are homeboys I have a feeling next year’s Christmas list is going to be quite big.
Merry Christmas to all… and to all a good night from all of us and of course from Jax in his Peppa Pig tent that took three adults to put together (even though it only had four pieces).
Thanks again Santa. Until next year…
So it’s about that time where we start getting homemade Christmas presents from Jackson. He’s hit that age where he makes ornaments googlie-eyed closepins that resembles a reindeer. Or a pop sickle stick Christmas tree with his school picture in it that 25 years from now we can give him to put on his tree so we can laugh at how cute he was and how messy his finger painting skills were.
I figured that’s what we’d be getting when his teachers told us that he had made us a gift. Then we opened this:
The Pose he’s in… 🤔
Why does it look like my son is posing for a centerfold?
Well 25 years from now he’s going to regret this Christmas gift when we break it out at his first Christmas in his new home.
I have this theory about Santa that literally might blow your mind so I hope you are sitting down as you read this…
We all know there is only one Santa and his helpers come to malls to help Santa out while he is busy getting ready for his big night. He can’t be bothered with food courts and cell phone kiosks… Santa is making his list and checking it twice. He’s doing competitive eating practice drills so he can stretch his stomach for 793 trillion pounds of cookies that he’s gonna cram into his belly on XMAS eve.
I want you to think about literally every single Christmas movie you’ve ever seen. Think about the plot of every single holiday film, there’s at least an 85% chance the guy we met this weekend at the mall is actually Santa Claus. I’m so convinced that Christmas time is Santa’s time to come down and check in on what’s actually going on… sometimes he needs to get a closer look at a particular kid before he puts him or her on the naughty list. So what better way then to sneak into “Santa’s Workshop” behind the mall fountain and tap the fake guy out. It’s like a holiday version of undercover boss.
This one was so obvious to pick out though. The beard, the jolly laugh where his belly jiggled like a bowl full of jelly… you can’t fake that HO HO HO… you can practice it all you want, but even the best actors can’t completely imitate a Bronx accent or perfectly convey the voice of a character they are playing (except Allen Rickman… he is THE Professor Snape, he was perfect). There was something about this Santa’s HO HO HO. It was smooth and rolled off the tongue like it was natural to him… you know why? Because it was. This Santa was literally a saint. No “helper” Santa could have that much patience. No way, no how.
That brings us to the waiting line to meet Santa… Jackson screamed, yelled, ran, jumped and tried to attack Mrs. Claus (mind you that’s what you get for being all up in a two year olds personal space). There were a few children ahead of Jax and they pulled Santa’s beard and kicked him in the shin. What did Santa do? Smiled and calmed the child down with a reassuring touch and no break in character. Then Jackson arrived. I was so nervous, I apologized proactively and even asked one of the elves if Santa had good heath insurance. Jackson, the child with limited “sit still” ability was mesmerized by The Jolly Man in Red. It was instantaneous. This was nothing a mere mortal could do. This was the work of a Saint… Saint Nick.
I am so confident (I’ve seen The Santa Clause, and Elf and Miracle on 34th Street)… this guy was actually Santa Claus. I know that I’m going to see him in a few weeks smashing cookies in my kitchen and he’s going to give a small head nod and a knowing wink. And I’ll nod back. A “Jetereske” tip of the cap for not kicking my kid out of line at the mall when so many other “helper Santas” would have.