It's Christmas. Was it a good day? How can it not be when there's a trampoline as a surprise in the back yard. I got up to find my son's stocking emptied neatly into a bowl with some stuffed back in and then rehung. I went to find him in the bonus room only to discover my daughter who said she had opened her brother's stocking by accident and only realized it later when she found the piece of paper with her name in braille on the other stocking that had apparently fallen out on the floor.
She had tried to put her brother's stocking back together but couldn't get it all in. She asked me if I had written her name in braille for her stocking. I wasn't sure what to say, but I went with, "yes, I didn't know if Santa knew braille and I thought it might help to let you know which was yours." She told me Santa did know braille because he'd sent her that package last year all in braille. I had forgotten all about that. But I was glad, I told her, that she now had the correct stocking.
Her brother came down a little bit later, saying he hated Christmas. He was upset from the prior evening because he realized he didn't have any presents for family members. I typically take the children to the dollar store and let them pick out something for people but he hadn't wanted to go. I should have tried again or insisted he go the first time. I learned a lesson on that—he really does care, just not necessarily right at the moment I ask him.
We let the children go downstairs and see the large sixty-four piece fort from corrugated cardboard Santa had brought them with a large-sized candy bar at the end of each of the two paths. Then we started opening presents. My husband is the Santa handing out presents and my son is the hyperactive helper. I asked them about ten times to slow down. My mother was trying to take notes for thank you notes (which we are pitifully behind on for both birthday and fundraising for the children). There were conversations surrounding presents as they were opened, the giver explaining what or why it was selected and the overall chaos was high (in my opinion) and I couldn't even follow who was getting what.
My husband got me a present he didn't know he got me. I opened a bag that had in it zip-up furry Cookie Monster pajamas with hood. I put it on for the balance of the present opening and nearly overheated the whole time. If we have a bitterly cold winter, I'll be safely warm by wearing it until the spring thaw.
My son was running around with presents giving them to people, going outside of the duties of Santa's helper. I told my son to stop opening a present for probably the fifth time when my husband said he had told him to go ahead and open it and I just sort of snapped inside mentally. I asked my husband to come upstairs for a minute. Apparently, my husband told me, everyone was having a good time but me. I was the only one that wanted things to go slower and my husband was going slow already and it was going to be mid-afternoon at this rate if he went any slower and next year, no, right now, and forevermore, I would be Santa because he had had enough.
We agreed, next year I will be Santa. Maybe some families let everyone pile through the presents as fast as they can tear through the wrapping (or open the repurposed Amazon bags). It makes me sad, knowing people took the time to get someone a gift and we're not even honoring them enough to pay attention to what those gifts are as a group and, if the person is there, to hear about what the present is or why they selected it. There is only one Christmas each year, I don't see what the rush is—even if there is a surprise trampoline waiting in the back yard.
The trampoline surprise went well with my daughter figuring it out as soon as she had a foot on the step up and a hand on the edge. She was thrilled. A big thanks to Uncle Bob and Uncle Brian for heading out to get the basketball net bolted on and my husband for inflating the ball that came with it. My son was most happy about that.
My parents and in-laws left to go home at that point and I went and had a nap before dinner at 4:30 at my in-law's house. My mother-in-law made a delicious Italian dinner and the sausage balls the children had made with Mimi the day before were eaten and enjoyed by everyone. We're back home now, the house is in disarray and the children and my husband are out on the now wet trampoline in the dark. All signs of a good Christmas, even if it went faster than I wanted it to.
The Big Boy Update: My son watched an episode of The Mandalorian with his father last night on Disney +. He and my husband really liked it. I hear Baby Yoda is way too cute. I need to log in to Disney + and check it out myself.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter still believes in Santa Claus. She doesn't even question it yet. She loved her presents today and was gracious and thankful to everyone.
What My Husband Likes: My husband has been against getting a trampoline for years. No way, he would say. Then, suddenly, he wanted to get one this year and so it was decided without even much conversation. My son is hyperactive and always needs to burn energy and my daughter would love it from the motion perspective and that it would be a safe enclosure for her to move around vigorously. Tonight he came in from jumping in the dark just now and said, "I really like the trampoline." He likes it for him. He's loving jumping on it too. Full family win.
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