Christmas Eve is a magical night, devised for the purpose of torturing excited children. I have always believed this, to a certain extent, based in large part on the memory of my own torure as an excited young boy. I learned something new this year. Torture is much easier to handle if you have at least another week off from school than if you have to go to work on December 26. I hope your Christmas Eve was wonderful. Let me tell you about mine.
After spending the day on a wild goose chase for a camera that was sold out of multiple Targets, I finally got home to help the Wife prepare Christmas Eve dinner for my whole family, fourteen people after two had to bail due to the flu. We managed to expertly spread the work out over the full three day weekend, so we were in good shape on Christmas Eve afternoon as we took care of the final touches. The "Polish" themed Christmas Dinner the Wife has introduced to my family (pierogies, kielbasa and shrimp) was as good as ever, and Christmas Eve started off swimmingly. By 7:45, Youngest told his mother he wanted to go to bed and she put him down without incident. We let the two older ones spend a little more time playing with their cousin before everyone left and we got them ready for bed. The excitement level was high, and they were in good spirits. Milk and cookies were put out, PJs were put on and everything looked good at 8:30 when we told them they could play together for a half hour before lights out. I had some last minute wrapping to take care of, so the half hour was well spent. Lights went out without a problem, even though Youngest woke and wouldn't go to bed again until he could sing to his older brothers. Then the bottom dropped out.
At 10:00 we wanted to put presents under the tree, but Eldest was still awake. We waited a little while, then decided just to take care of it despite the potential for getting caught. We were in bed, ready for dreamland by 11:30. I was awakened at 2:30, by Eldest, who couldn't sleep. I had trouble falling back to sleep but did manage until 4, when Eldest and Middle decided to turn lights on and play together. I told them that wouldn't work until 6. Between 4 and 6, Middle came to see me 4 times to tell me, among other things, that he was "dying" because he couldn't play with his brother. I slept, not a wink, during those two hours. At 6, I let them get together and reminded them that presents didn't start until 7. I had to tell them 3 times to quiet down so the Wife and Youngest could sleep. I slept, not a wink, during that hour. At 7, chaos ensued.
I enjoy the chaos. I enjoy the excitement. I even enjoy the torture a little. I did not enjoy the lack of sleep. We did Christmas morning in my house, Christmas afternoon and dinner at my sister-in-law's, about a 90 minute drive away. We returned home for bed Christmas night. I felt like a zombie most of the day and took several days to recover. A bad night of sleep on Christmas Eve is fine when you have nothing to do for the next week, it becomes torture for the adults when they have to go back to work.
Christmas is a wonderful holiday. I am convinced the only thing better than being a parent of young children on Christmas morning is being a young child on Christmas morning. Even better for the child is more than a week off from school. This is definitely the kicker for the Christmas season. The children get their day, then their week to recover and enjoy. As a parent, I had to go to work the next day and the day after that and the day after that. Christmas seems like less a season than a blip. I can handle the build up, the shopping, the decorating, the wrapping, the cleaning the house and the preparation for dinner. I struggle with the aftermath. I struggled this year with a really bad night of sleep. I struggled with the clean up, the taking down of decorations, and the getting the house back in order. To make matters worse, this year I got the Plague about 4 days after Christmas. Well, maybe not really, but it felt like it. That would explain why this post was finished several days after New Years, instead of several days before.
Ultimately, though, that week after Christmas is worth it, because of the joy my boys get during the build up and the excitement of the week off from school after Christmas. A week they spent playing with new toys and wonderful babysitters. I just hope to avoid the Plague next year.
Here's wishing you a very Happy New Year, with fun and happiness, and perhaps a few Observations from a Suburban Sports Dad.
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