Santa’s Homeboy 

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…

 

Undercover Santa


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.

 

Hey Santa:

The Christmas Detective 🌲


Were those reindeer hooves pounding on the roof?  I’m awake now and realize I’m screwed…

As I lay there sweating in my boxers and tank top my mind raced with images of the unassembled VTech race track and Peppa Pig’s Train my heart suddenly stops as I realized the countless hours of construction that were ahead of me.  Santa decided he’d wait until Christmas morning to put everything together.
Suddenly I snap completely awake, look out the window, and see a glimmer of sunlight on the horizon.

“Holy eggnog… It’s Christmas morning!”  As an aside… Egg nog sucks. Who says “Man I’m thirsty. I want to drink something that tastes like eggs and looks like… well I’ll leave that up to your imagination, but it looks disgusting. I’ve heard many arguments from Steph for why eggnog is the perfect holiday drink… “It’s a Christmas tradition.” So is going to midnight mass… Anyone go to midnight mass lately?… Didn’t think so. Then there’s the worst argument of all… “You can get wasted off eggnog”… You know what else you can get wasted off of? Any other liquid on the planet if you add alcohol to it.  

But I digress… Let the merry mayhem commence.

 Everyone is up and it’s time for “some assembly required.”  Regardless of navigating poorly-written instructions and realizing I have 17 left over pieces when I was done putting everything together… there are few things more satisfying than watching your kid tear into his gifts, wide-eyed with wonder and joy.

You work hard to provide for your family and it feels good to make your kid happy. However, as I sat with a cup of coffee and surveyed the the damage from countless opened boxes and enough wrapping paper to wallpaper my house I realize 15 family members are about to Cousin Eddie my Christmas Vacation. We all know XMAS can get a little chaotic. So it’s  all about keeping the crazy under wraps… And that my friends is a fine art.


This year we decided to forgo a Christmas tradition (unbeknownst to me)… No presents for everyone. We were moving towards the 21st century gift giving event: The Secret Santa. I was not happy, but decided to play along (I had no choice) and I was like a soldier on a mission, and I will not be denied.

For today I am out to hunt the most elusive and fantastic of all the beasts in the world (Just call me Newt Scamander… Harry Potter reference anyone?!!). . .

Today I will find my Secret Santa.

As my family begins to filter into the house, the AC is pumping on high like its a mid-August afternoon (Mind you its 73 degree this Christmas Day) and I begin to get suspicious. My sister chooses that very moment to walk past me and I find myself forced to put on an sly smile, gesturing half-heartedly with the empty mug in one hand. It irks me to have to resort to such measures: pretending to get a refill from the Keurig just for an excuse to stake out the kitchen where most of the family is beginning to congregate.

I had no choice to stalk out these people. I had to get myself amped up somehow for this Christmas tragedy they called Secret Santa.

Maybe a little background here would be useful. When I was first exposed to this concept a few years at school, I’ll admit I was rather intrigued. I thought it might be cool to see what kind of things people in my office thought I might like. I mean it can’t be that hard to figure out a Green Bay Packers keychain or Harry Potter bumper sticker would be perfect. Then I realized I, the ultimate gift giver would be able to uncover some secret about the person I’d be buying for would be amazing. This whole thing became a strangely exhilarating experience.  

That was until Secret Santa invaded my house… Bah Humbug.

But either way here we are… And I will find this person responsible for my gifts this year. I stalked my prey. Walked in and out of gifts… Shook a few with my name on them and even tried to get Jax to do some spying for me. Too bad he was surrounded by a Toys-R-Us warehouse-like present pile. I knew at that point I was on my own.

Here’s the thing… This story doesn’t have a great ending. As a matter of fact it’s sort of boring… Somewhere in between cleaning 21 pounds of turkey off the floor and pouring my eighth glass of wine I gave up on my quest. I just couldn’t invest the time I thought I was willing to invest. I had to believe the person who was evading me like I was Tom Hanks and they were Leonardo DiCaprio would reveal themselves in the end. (I guess in all reality that’s the point of this Secret Santa mess isn’t it?!!)

 It was then I looked over at Jax who was getting comfy in his new recliner and I set myself to what Christmas is really about… Enjoying my son’s reaction as he unwrapped toy after toy after toy.

PS: Secret Santa is now OK in my book!     

 
Thanks Aunt Sandy… (I mean Santa)!!!

So that ends another Christmas Day… Another fun filled family event and another day that I was able to enjoy my son as he happily played with his presents. I hope everyone else had a very Merry Christmas… And I hope the mayhem was manageable, the smiles were wide, and the laughter was loud. 


  
    
  
  

  
  

The Doctor’s Office Christmas Shop

So exactly a year to the day of not having any XMAS shopping done and here I sit again with so much crap to do (only I write this time from a chair in a walk in clinic waiting room since I still can’t shake this cough caused by my self-diagnosed Ebola issues). 

Last year I was panicking from inside a sardine packed Target store… Now I’m panicking inside a packed doctors office… Which has signs posted warning other humans of my contagiousness:     

  The dirty looks people are giving me as I cough up my insides resemble what a mall Santa might look like if I say on his lap and asked for a back rub. Shit is getting weird in here right now… I’m pretty sure someone just asked if the CDC is open on XMAS.  

As I sit here, I’m wondering why this doctors’ office can’t give out stickers that let others know I actually don’t have an infectious disease like CCMC used to do for me during my daily visits last year… “No ma’am I haven’t traveled outside the United States since yesterday afternoon.”   

Here’s the issue… Ebola or not… I need to get some damn shopping done… STAT!  Santa has a lot going on this year.  I can’t sit around and rely on him to fulfill everyone’s list this year.  I gotta get out there and get some things for people.  I wish there was a gift shop here so I could get the rest of my shopping done.  I mean everyone would probably love one of those hospital teddy bears and helium filled heart balloons right?    

 Since that’s not happening let’s all thank the the Christmas miracle of Amazon.com… Let’s just hope Santa doesn’t mind stopping in Hoboken (I think that’s where Amazin’s where house is located) for a last minute overnight delivery pickup.  
For a reminder at last years idiotic XMAS Eve debockle shopping experience click here:  https://newdadchronicles.wordpress.com/2014/12/24/december-24th-time-to-start-xmas-shopping/Dec 24th, 2015 XMAS Shopping

Santa is a Pretty a Patient Guy

Has anyone else ever run out of gas while actually driving their car before? Just asking… for a friend… 

There is nothing worse than knowing you are going to be late to something that you have known about for two months… unless you’re late because your car runs out of gas on the side of the highway on the way to the Polar Express steam train so your 20 month old can meet Santa.

First off… who the hell runs out of gas? Its 2015… why do we even have to use gas… RIDICULOUS! I’m an idiot… I’m an idiot I’m an idiot… nothing else can be said here except I’m an idiot. How does an educated human being let their car run out of gas… how does anything with a brain allow their car to run out of gas.

Let me set the scene: Ten adults and one 20 month old child flying down Rte 9 with little more than a few minutes to spare to change said 20 month old into his Christmas jammies for the train ride of a life time. Four different cars race to be the first to reach the Polar Express in which full size elves named Shumcky and Sniffles will serve sweets to an infant for over an hour.

Then there is the one guy who can pull this all together… the one guy who has enough holiday spirit to overcome angry adults, annoying elves, a train hotter than Hades’ butthole and a 20 month old all hopped up on hot chocolate and cookies.

That feeling when you know you are an idiot

 

Unfortunately that one guy was me and I was coasting on the shoulder of the highway inching closer to my metaphorical untimely death.  It was over. I could see my life flash before my eyes.  If it wasn’t the wife who would end life, it would be the guys who would relentlessly mock me to death for being he first person since that annoying dashboard gaslight was invented to ever actually run out of gas.

Sitting on the side of the road allowed me plenty of time to reflect on the error of my way.   One that I hope my son will learn early on in life… You will never be right…  Stop and get gas – Be late for the train= WRONG MOVE!  Don’t stop for gas – Run out of gas= WRONG MOVE!

Stopping when I knew my gas tank was on empty would have probably solved all my issues here… But I digress.. All in all the kid had a great time and even got to tell Santa what he wanted for Christmas… A few gallons of gas for dad.  

 

It’s All About that Bass

 
There something about the beat… The treble the bass… It’s all about that bass.  Something about the rhythm of the music gets this kid going.  As soon as the beat drops this kid turns into Rico Suave.  

Circle of Friends music class is supposed to be family time, but my son turns it into a speed dating event. He moves slowly in and out of the parents surveying all the lovely ladies who are clapping to some song that I’ll never learn the words to.  He knows what he’s doing. He knows what he’s looking for (he seems to be into blondes lately). 

Just when you think it’s safe to let your daughters out of the house… This guy turns on the charm.  


   
 

PS: Anyone who thinks their life is chaotic hasn’t been to a music class during instrument free play time.

#TownCrier #SalvationArmySantaTraining

PPS: Later that night…  

 I guess he works the waiver wire outside of music class too!