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 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 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
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.
Anyone who believes that men are equal to women have clearly never seen a man wrap a Christmas present!
So it’s Christmas Eve… Time to start shopping for everyone’s gifts. Thank The Lord that Santa gets all of Jackson’s gifts because he wanted nothing to do with picking out anything.
Two minutes in:
Five minutes later:
Guess I’ll have to go at this alone.