This is Christmas season and we all love those traditions that go along with them don’t we? I know I do, and I’m also keenly aware that with a three year old and a one year old each year cements the foundation for what will become tradition. We happen to live in a neighborhood that makes it easy to fall right into those wonderful Christmas traditions of lights, Santa, caroling, etc.
First, the Christmas letter. I write our Christmas letter, Nita proofs it, and well it honestly is almost a year-long project. We usually jot down some notes and by September we have a rough outline. By November it’s pretty tight, and by mid-December, we’re just adding a few details from November. Accompanying the letter is what has become a fun family tradition, the family Christmas card. In the early years, we went out and just uploaded a picture to HEB or Walgreens. Now we have a little shoot, dress up and decide on a theme. Over the top? Maybe. But you do it your way we’ll do it ours. And besides, two of our friends (and you know who you and probably they are) spend the GNP of Costa Rica on their cards, but of course they look it too. I think everything that appears gold in color for their cards is actually hand painted with real gold. If you’re on the list, they should be out tomorrow.
Next are the Christmas lights. As I stated a couple of blogs ago, Connor insisted he help this year and I can see that being a really fun event as he and Josephine (who as of yesterday is walking) help mommy and daddy decorate the house and outside in years to come…until they become bratty teenagers and think Christmas is stupid, and then maybe someday much later Connor will say, “Dad, I know where everything is supposed to go, let me do it, you just relax and grab a GJ.” I can dream! Anyway, after that we usually load up all the kids, hop in my golf cart and ride around the neighborhood looking at all the light displays. And there are tons of lights to look at. Cul-de-sacs with themes, battling scriptures (seriously not a typo or exaggeration, it’s pretty funny) and just those really over-the-top uber-achievers who HAVE to outdo everyone. If it’s cold out we pull out the heater. Nita bought me a little golf cart heater a few years back and we’ll put the rain flaps down, turn on some Christmas music (of course my golf cart has a stereo, what am I a barbarian?), and squeeze in real tight. Josie points and giggles, and Connor usually waves at the Santas and Frostys.
Now it is prep time for the big day. No not THAT big day, it’s the day of brunch with Santa at the golf club and golf cart caroling with the hay-ride. Now two years in a row, Connor did not enjoy his time on the lap of Mr. Kringle. In 2009 he cried, okay he screamed. In 2010, he also cried and reached for us, no pictures. This year, we were determined to help him through this. So my plan was to help him overcome through the power of routine. All of us who’ve ever been in sports, music, given speeches, acted in plays, or heck even been on a date (you know where you practice looking the dad in the eye, good firm hand shake, smile and have two or three compliments loaded), know the power of routine. Come to the golf course with me. Okay, so here you are; your big putt to win the hole/match… deep breath, see your line, take one practice stroke, set up and BANG!!!! A car horn, cough, loud something from somewhere happens, quickly, what do you do? That’s Right! You step back and start your routine over again. Practice and familiarity breed confidence and have a calming effect. You get back over your putt and drain that bad boy and count the money!
Now before I press on here, I had a little facebook teasing from a friend of mine. He accused me of being a pageant dad. That what we did made me more akin to being that over bearing father who was living vicariously through his child actor. Now he didn’t completely say all that but it was jokingly implied. My goal was remove the fear and uncertainty and provide a routine that he could fall into to alleviate any anxiety and help him enjoy a pretty neat experience (that also keeps me out of huge lines in stores at the mall).
So two weeks before our lap session, we started talking about Santa coming to the club. A week before we started practicing asking Mr. Rosy cheeks what we wanted for Christmas. We also talked about not throwing a tantrum at the club because the big man would be watching and he’d been so good all year, that he can’t risk blowing it right there in front of him. I even went to a website where you can set up an email “from Santa” to Connor. It shows some pictures of Connor, tells where you’re from, mentions a couple of milestones, and then shows you the naughty or nice meter. Connor loved it this year. Anyway, we even did a “dressed rehearsal” where I put on a red jacket and put a stuffed baby seal (toy not taxidermy) under my chin and did some Ho ho hoing and invited C to jump on my knee. Connor practiced asking for his toy, saying please, and even had a “where are your Reindeer, Santa?” line queued up.
Get to the big day, and he decided that he wasn’t going to do it. Josie on the other hand was HAMing it up. She loved all the attention, was smiling, laughing, had her cute little dress on. She was working the crowd like Tara Reid with new…well you know. Anyway, while this was going on Connor ran to the back room cookie and ornament making stations and told my mother that he’d rather talk to the big stuffed toy Santa in the back room. I went and got him and said, “Connor, here is your big chance buddy. Santa needs to confirm what you want. Daddy wrote him a letter for you, but you know how daddy is, he needs to hear it from you. Can you go tell him really quickly what you want? And don’t forget to say ‘please’ okay buddy?”
“Okay daddy.” I popped him on the on the other knee and he was just about to scooch himself off when I said, “Connor tell him about the tractor.” He looked Santa in the eye and said, “Can I have a back hoe? Please?” And then Nita said, “Sweetie, can you smile for one picture?” And he did…for one picture. J
Afterwards I hugged him really big and told him how proud of him I was. I asked if it was okay or if he didn’t like it, he said it was neat. He was beaming at the brunch table after, you could tell he was very proud of himself, and we were proud of him too.
Finally, after nap we went on the golf cart caroling ride. Abuelita (grandmother in Spanish and what he calls my mom) came over in her decorated golf cart and I installed the car seats. Connor and Josie were strapped in and the whole fam went back to the club. They rode on the hay ride, the golf carts, and sang a few songs. Connor belted out Jingle bells and Rudolf like he wrote them. And Josie was as cute as could be. You know, do you think she’s too young for one of those kiddie pageants? Kidding, of course.
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