It hit me the other day that Christmas break is just a few days away.
I find myself getting a bit giddy thinking about all of the possibilities. I am so excited about the idea of spending every moment with my kids in the days leading up to the joyous events of the holiday season.
In fact, I actually made a promise to them that, this year, I will enjoy our time. I vowed to slow down and listen more. I expressed my excitement about reading holiday books, eating cookies, and sleeping under the tree (the three that is not up yet, or picked out, for that matter).
At dinner the other night, I exclaimed, “This year will be different! This year we will make every day of winter break an adventure.”
I really, truly, meant every word of it. I promised. I believed it whole-heartedly. Until it hit me.
Holy crap! Christmas vacation is 10 days longer than Thanksgiving break.
Looks like it is time for some serious ground rules.
While we are on the topic of this very long extended break, I have a few suggestions. Actually they’re requests. Oh, seriously, who am I kidding?
I present to you my list of demands for Christmas vacation:
For the love of Pete, or Santa, or whoever else I can call upon to help me…please oh please don’t make me lock myself in the laundry room again while my kids are at each others throats. The cats seem to also hide in there, and they hate me.
Is there some kind of alarm that can be put on the iPad when anyone takes it into the bathroom for an extended period of time? Seriously, why does that 800-dollar piece of technology need to be in close contact with the toilet?
Under no circumstances will I entertain the idea of wearing matching pajamas on Christmas morning. I watched my dad be subjected to this humiliation every year. That striped hat with the white pom pom hanging off the top was always bouncing off his eye like a paddle ball.
If that wasn’t bad enough, the poor guy had to wear a nightgown. This was a man who grew up on a farm in North Dakota during the Great Depression. He peed in a tin can and shared a room with 10 brothers and sisters. And he had to wear a red and white striped nightgown on Christmas.
All bets are off. There will be no negotiating, bargaining, or begging. I will not listen to it, give in to it, or fall for it.
I expect the following items for myself: 14 bags of Ghirardelli chocolate chips, 14 large boxes of DOTS, 14 bags of Dove Promises (one for each day of break), and a new door handle that locks. Please install the handle on my bathroom door so I can enjoy my emotional eating in peace.
This is the last one, I promise. It might be the hardest one to deliver, but here goes. Is there any way to reprogram my kids automatic response from Mom to Dad? Honestly, there is another adult in this house, even if he is only an adult by age.
All joking aside, I secretly cannot wait for the lazy days of break. To lounge around all day drinking hot cocoa, eating all the things we’re not supposed to, and watching “Elf” a few too many times.
These crazy, wonderful, stressful, magical, times only come around once a year, so try to find a few moments each day to just enjoy the laughs, the hugs, and the cuddles as much as you can (even if you have to take your chocolate chips and hide out in the laundry room with the cats for a little peace and quiet).