December Days

...more like December daze, really. 

We've welcomed a new little girl to the clan (my brother's daughter) after a serious shortage of girls. I've turned a year older, sent out the gifts in record time (finally!)  and managed to eat every single cookie and cupcake that has crossed my front door.  So help me.  

The other evening, while hosting friends over at our place, we got a frantic knock at almost midnight.  There was a fire in my next door neighbor's house.  Yup, for sure it's one of those thoughts that have crossed your mind - the what-would-you-take-with-you-in-case-of-a-fire scenario.   I always joked half-joked with MacDaddy that we'd each run off with my two favorite sculptures.  It would probably feel like us bench pressing our body weights but I always assured MacDaddy the adrenaline would give us that extra push.  Thankfully, with quick thinking on the part of the neighbor and the fire department, no one was hurt, the fire didn't spread and a smoke-filled place was all I had to contend with.  It was also a relief to know that both MacDaddy and I, at that point,  wanted to take the boys out to safety and absolutely nothing else.  Talk about putting  Christmas in its proper perspective.  It's way too easy to lose sight when you have those crazy carols playing since September, you've wrapped your hundredth gift and you're nowhere near done and Christmas commercialism is out of control.  Sometimes, just sometimes a little jolt like this all we ever really need.  

Flashback. This is our very first Christmas with the boys. 2005.  We're brand new, giddy and wide-eyed all psyched for parenting thinking Easy peasy, lemon squeezy. Perfection.

These are a few other Christmas photos over the years.

Look below. 2009. Am I the only one noticing we're losing our hair?  Tato has a bandage on his forehead after sixteen stitches and surgery. Did we really think easy peasy? Really?

It's 2011, I don't have a decent Christmas photo and you're not getting a photo card this year, sorry.  If you can get them to sit still long enough without one sticking out his tongue, or looking away or whining or wrestling,  I'll give you my arm. 

So here we are settling for a booth shot equipped with ample warning and about a twelve-second allowance to get the money shot.  We still can't seem to get that done right.  But we've learned to both laugh at ourselves and go easy on ourselves because sometimes that is the only way. Easy peasy, my a$$. We are perfectly imperfect at this parenting bit but perfectly happy and blessed we get to have a go at this. And that is viva la vida mama. 

Merry Christmas!

Falalalala

Ten days to go. Getting the Christmas vibe in our little corner of the Internet.  Although it's already 2011 and the Richmond Book Drive is over, Deck The Halls Pomplamoose-style still sounds really good. This is my kind of Christmas song.

And by the way… in case you come from a highly dysfunctional family, notice how the season tends to up the crazy ante? 


As my Tito Cholo had told me, Just face the music and dance!  I'll take that advice. It can be fun and quite a learning experience having Christmas in Space (incidentally the title of Pomplamoose's Christmas album!) with all the aliens around. Shall we dance?

Let's all rock this Christmas!

Merry Merry

And the Grinch, with his Grinch-feet ice cold in the snow, stood puzzling and puzzling, how could it be so? It came without ribbons. It came without tags. It came without packages, boxes or bags. And he puzzled and puzzled 'till his puzzler was sore. Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before. What if Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store. What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more."

- Dr. Seuss

Merry, merry, happy wishes!

The Deal with Santa

Hard to ignore the fact that Christmas season is here. Not with the Mak-Tatos bugging me to put up the tree since bloody November. Complete with the whole guilt trip of who already had a Christmas tree while we didn't. The tree finally came up with a little help from ever-reliable Kuya Anton (the family's in-house Martha Stewart) who came armed with twin reindeers fresh from production for the boys to decorate.

The boys can now lay off the guilt trip even if Mak thinks "we have too little decorations". That boy wants the house to look like Christmas threw up all over us. Boohoo. Wrong mom. Technicality on our choice of decor aside, it's officially Christmas over here.

And then there's the whole business about Santa. As parents: Do we ? Should we? My parents and grandparents were all out with the whole Santa deal way back when. So, yes, over here, until the time is right, Santa "comes" over in the middle of the night, Christmas Eve when else, always while we are all asleep, gulps some of that chocolate drink we leave for him and brings THE presents. Assuming they were nice not naughty, of course. MammaMia used to tell us if we were naughty Santa would give us carbon. Spanish for a word I never quite figured out what exactly it was but assumed naughty kids received a sackful of charcoal on Christmas Eve. That was enough to keep me nice all year. (yeah right)

So anyway, with the tree up and the Christmas spirit in full force, it was time for the boys to write Santa Claus. Imagine how annoyed I was when I saw this from Tato. No hi. No hello. No please.

This was his sweet little note last year. What the hell happened in the last 365 days?

My blood seriously reaching boiling point, I told him there was no way I was sending that letter. And then I got this.

Change of mind with toy choice. No change with that ultra- fresh approach. One teeny tiny step closer to getting charcoal. Then the final draft.

The pleases and thank-yous and niceties all accounted for, along with the request for a ridiculously popular toy that isn't even available on this side of the world. Good luck, Santa. Then again there's always Santa's trusty little relative elves from the other parts of the world. Then again there's always carbon.

Christmas Blues and Reds

Truth is, sometimes its hard to get in Christmas mode. Obligations. Responsibilities. Expenses. The holidays even remind me of people who I wish were still around, like my Nona. I've been feeling melancholy lately so I thought of her, my favorite confidant and grandmother-confessor. Then, I'm reading Virginia Woolf who expresses morose thoughts in such a beautiful way. Have you met Septimus from her book Mrs. Dalloway?

Anyway. This morning, with no kids to attend to, no work needed doing, the Kindle tucked away, I cheered myself up by making the little family christmas card to go with all those gifts that need wrapping soon.

It reminded me of the best we can get and the best we can give. Dear kind reader, whoever and wherever you are, I hope you're feeling the love around you.

Channeling you all some Christmas Spirit,

Put the Lights on the Tree

It's the first day of December! Sufjan Stevens, through their signature brand of wonderful non-cheesy yuletide music, is reminding us to put the lights on the tree. Have you?

Merrily Yours,

Dear Santa

Tato has mailed his letter:

Mak has made his list (and checked it twice!):

Christmas is finally here. That was fast.

You could say I was one of the lucky ones. I knew Santa. I shared priceless moments with him once a year, every year, for about a decade. The scene was always the same. A party at my grandparents' home with family, friends of family, and friends of friends of family. Typical party fare, the usual chit-chat with the not-so-usual special guest. Sometime in the middle of merry-making there'd be whispers that Santa's bell was just heard from a distance. There'd be a hush in the room and I would get butterflies in my stomach. The excitement too much for someone so little.

Check out the look on the kid's face. That's BigBro behind shocked kid looking pretty star-struck too

As the sound of the bell clanging would get louder and louder, our grins would grow wider and wider. Santa's "helpers" would open the garage gate and there he'd be. What a vision, I tell you. Snow in his boots, trademark white beard, sacks filled with presents, a twinkle in his eyes and the sweetest smile you ever saw. I could have sworn I knew those eyes and smile from somewhere.

Santa and me (at 2 years old). That's oh-so-glamorous original Nana having a holiday drink, by the way.

Some years later when a certain grown-up-who-gave-birth-to-me slipped big time and told me a little bit more about Santa than I cared to ever know, I became his helper. I was suddenly the little elf with the big job and the biggest secret. I still got butterflies in my gut when he came. The excitement still a tad much for someone not-so-little.

Finally Santa's helper. That's me in the white dress taking my job a little too seriously.

Santa and LilBro. BigBro and a buddy in the background being Santa's elves

Dear Santa, I wish the Mak-Tatos get the chance to know you the way I did. I wish my dear old Abuelo (who always had to rush out suddenly for work those afternoons) could have met you. You would have gotten along brilliantly. And I wish you got my letter thanking you for the memories.

Wishing you and your families another Christmas filled with beautiful memories.

Charlie's Christmas

Nothing like the melancholy, introspective Charlie to make us think about the essence of the season. It was Linus who gave the speech, but it was Charlie's emotional upheaval that led to the Christmas epiphany for the entire Peanuts gang. Watched A Charlie Brown Christmas with the kiddos this morning. Bear thinks Lucy "shouldn't be so mad all the time" but how can you not be amused by this precocious girl?

Lucy: I know how you feel about all this Christmas business, getting depressed and all that. It happens to me every year. I never get what I really want. I always get a lot of stupid toys or a bicycle or clothes or something like that.

Charlie: What is it you want?

Lucy: Real estate.

From Lucy to Snoopy and Sally... Charlie bemoans how no one gets that it is so depressing how commercialized Christmas has become and how it brings out the gimme-gimme sense of entitlement in people. The poor guy also thinks Christmas emphasizes that no one likes him.

Charlie: Thanks for the Christmas card you sent me Violet.

Violet: I didn't send you a Christmas card, Charlie Brown.

Charlie: Don't you know sarcasm when you hear it?

Oh Charlie... I always feel like giving you a hug. But it's Christmas after all, so Charles Schulz gives us the gift of a happy ending and lifted spirits.

I have to add, there's nothing like decorating our tree at home while playing that classic Vince Guaraldi soundtrack in the background. Merry Christmas Charlie Brown!