Presents for Baby

So, what do you give a baby for Christmas? Do you go ALL OUT because it's your first time having a child of your own for the holiday? Do you skip giving any presents at all because baby doesn't know Christmas from Tuesday? Do you use the day as an excuse to buy your baby a few new age-appropriate things you were going to get him anyway, and simply wrap them up for effect?

If you chose the last one, you're like me. It's tempting to spoil your baby because love. But really, you don't want to get into the hoopla of overspending. It can create a bad cycle.

So, we got him three things. One from Pa, one from Ma and one from Santa. Then there's whatever else grandparents are planning to do and I'd say it's one happy little Christmas. Although, Jack would be just as happy if I handed him my smart phone and turned on the screen. Hell, touching the remote control is a good day for him. But oh well.

So, the things we got him are a puzzle, a block set and a tambourine.

The blocks are simple painted little things:

Cute!

And I don't have photos for the other two, but the tambourine was fun. I took Jack into the toy store and, as I like to do, put various toys in his hands to see what he liked. Oh, he banged that tambourine around and smiled like he'd found some kind of candy Jesus. So, that was a win.

And the puzzle looked neato. Babies don't really do those, but this one is suitable for a one-year-old because the pieces can fit into various places. It's really weird for me to imagine Jack being able to use it. He's eight months old. He can't stack blocks even. He knocks them down and bangs them together. Hell, I remember when that was a big deal.

Actually, he's crawling now, and that's the current big thing. He's romping around the apartment like an elephant. He doesn't go on his knees, he's rump in the air and on all fours. It's adorable. Tiring, but sweet. It's amazing how endlessly fascinated he is with things like lint or handles or crumbs. And how much his discoveries point out how bad I need to clean the house.

I'm wondering if he'll like ripping wrapping paper. I'm not holding out hope he'll actually open presents, but if he at least enjoys the spectacle that is opened presents amongst ribbons and tissue paper, that'll be enough.

Oh man, a child of my own at Christmas. This is it. This is the beginning of the kind of holiday joy I've been waiting for. Squee!

Cozy Christmas

After years of going without, and then a couple years of only having the Charlie Brown Christmas tree...

Which isn't a bad little tree.

...we finally bit the bullet and bought an artificial tree. And lights. And ornaments. I think all in all we plunked down about $200 on the whole caboodle. The Dude went to the store without me, while I stayed home and worked, feeling under the weather, and he wound up calling from Home Depot asking for instructions on which tree to get. Pre-lit or not? How big? Which ornaments did I want?

I went online to look at everything and said things like, "I like the sparkly blue balls," and the Dude was like, "That's in the blue aisle, I'm in the red aisle!"And I'd say something like, "I didn't know there were colour-coded aisles! I can't see you!" "Why aren't you here? Ugh!" "Next time we buy a Christmas tree, I'll know better!"

It was wildly inefficient. But I must say the tree looks great. I had us budgeted for ornaments under a certain price and the Dude, in a fit of bravado after we got off our ridiculous phone call, made some independent holiday purchase decisions and loaded the cart with about twice the amount of Christmas we could sensibly afford.

But behold!

And I got my star instead of an angel, like the Dude wanted.
This was a harder sell than choosing baby names.

It's nice to have a Christmas tree. I think us having a baby soon is really the only reason we splurged on it. We're going to want to have some holiday joy already bought and in the house while we have a wee one and I'm on mat leave.

It's rather charming. Got my husband, my cats, my baby on the way in our cozy apartment and now we have a Christmas tree. It's so homey and typical. It's comforting. I had a lot of uproar when I was a teenager. I don't really value that sort of life. This is where it's at for me.

Christmas shopping

Okay, so Christmas is pretty much happening any second and I'm sort of in denial about it. No, not really, but I only have to buy one gift. One gift! And I'm not going out to do it.

I bought my aunt a Christmas ornament. We mail each other presents each year. I was going to go out and get her a Swarovski ornament for her tree, but then realized that (a) there's an online store and (b) they would ship it to her with greater speed and less muss and fuss, without me having to stand in line at the post office during the holiday season.

The Dude and I are getting each other kittens (yay!) in the new year for Christmas. It's going to be a somewhat pricey endeavour, hence the allocation of Christmas monies for the cause.

I made bracelets for the Dude's mom and stepmom. And we did a corny Christmas photo shoot for framing as a secondary gift-type thing.

My brother is all that's left. He wants toiletries or other such practical things. Easy enough. But I keep avoiding the task. It's the only gift that involved me doing anything outside the house. I keep thinking how cold and unpleasant it is out there and then I put it off. What the hell is that about? I mean, other than the obvious fact that working from home has made me grown soft.

I'm beginning to see why people who work from home get dressed. I never do, and I think it's the snuggly pyjama feeling that keeps me indoors so much, now combined with an aversion to the cold and slush. Getting dressed means you're serious about doing something with your day. Staying in PJs means fuck it.

In past years when I had more to buy, I'd go out and get everything done in one shot after careful planning about what I'd buy and where. I'd come home with a sense of accomplishment. Thanks to reduced Christmas shopping needs and the internet, that's just not happening this year.

I have a few days left to make it happen. I'll get it done. I have to, otherwise I'm a bad sister.

Christmas cards

I'm doing Christmas cards. In years past it was so easy. Now it's a lengthy process. It's not just the gathering of addresses either, though that has been a task of the ages (as I broke my hard drive and lost my entire address book). I write personal messages in each one. I don't enjoy only signing my name and then sending it off. I don't like the cards to speak for me. If I'm sending someone mail, surely I have got something of my own to say. But this task has grown since the Dude entered my life in a serious fashion. And now since his family will be my family, I'm sending cards to his loved ones, too.

Now, he's not leaving it all to me. He gathered all the addresses for me, bought the stamps and mailed them out. He's on his way out soon to buy some more, because 24 wasn't enough to get all our families and social circle covered. What do you get when two people from Catholic families get engaged? Gigantic Christmas card lists. And an even bigger guest list for the wedding. Dear me. But we'll cross that bridge when we get to it.

Last year I made my own. So I had to get particular about who I sent them to because I had roughly a dozen of them. Then people were bummed out not to get a card, so I had to nix that idea this year, and forevermore until I can find the time to handcraft about 30+ cards. One thing that generally spurns me on to send them at all is that people really seem to genuinely enjoy the cards. I get comments on it all the time.

And I think that says a lot about a few things in general:

One, people love getting cheerful things in the mail. Two, people feel special when you make things personal, and Three, no one ever gets handwritten anything anymore. No one sends letters. And I think that's what got me going in the first place. And what kills me is how much my penmanship has suffered. I didn't really learn to type till I was 14, and didn't have a computer in my house till I was 15. I wrote everything. And I think most people have gotten out of the habit of handwriting. One more reason it's so important to try.

If there's any time to revive old cherished forms of communication and to go out of your way to do something a little special, Christmas is the time. I never want to feel too busy to do it. I don't think I will. It makes me really happy.

Traditions

I've been thinking about Christmas. I had some really nice ones when I was a kid. No sob stories here. Some people hate Christmas because of bad holiday memories from their childhood. I had a lot of fun.

My parents always warned me not to expect too much. I think perhaps when I was very young there may have been lots of presents. When I was 8, our family finances underwent some changes. Single parent households aren't typically rolling in money, but job loss can stretch things tighter.

But I never noticed fewer presents, really. I mean, there were fewer, technically, but I think what made the difference was my brother and I didn't feel our holiday was lacking. We had traditions. There was my father's family, over 20 people, packing into my grandma and granpa's post-war six-room house's living room. Exactly seven places to sit. Get up to go to the bathroom and you lost your spot. Those were fun Christmas eves.

There was Christmas eve before bed, my brother and I doing our pyjama race to see who could open their Christmas eve present first. There was waking up to a stocking in our beds and the rule of waiting till 7:00 to wake up Mom. There were always new movies and the yearly debate and squabble over which one we'd watch first.

Then breakfast. Then Grammy and Poppie's for dinner and more presents. Mom had a rule that we were only to get clothes, as they were needed. So we weren't wild over them, because kids never see the value in clothes, but we loved our family. Our closest cousins would be there and we'd play and swap stories.

Leading up to Christmas, my mom and I would go to one of her friend's for baking all kinds of holiday goodies that we'd stick in the freezer and bring out as needed: cookies, squares, cake, chocolate...

Things changed when we got older. Grammy passed. Then Grandpa five years later, and a year later my mother, and a year after that, Grandma. A lot of families fall apart after so many deaths, particularly when those deaths were of people who were like glue. But life marched on and Christmas evolved, not without sadness, but you find joy in the holidays where you can if you try.

And with the new Christmas locations to go to, different schedules and new significant others, things started to get sticky. My father played turf war over Christmas, which was needless to say a bad time for all. Did it with Thanksgiving, too. Any holidays you wished to include others or expand your repertoire of activities and visits he took as a personal affront. It doesn't make sense, so explaining it would be pointless, at least for today. So for a few years, Christmas was very unpleasant.

In the years we've been estranged, things have again grown into something cheerful and festive. And with a fiancee I've been with for four years, there's been some dividing up of holiday time to make sure we see everyone. And everyone does this. As you age, Christmas stops being about the presents and starts being about who you spend time with. I know a number of people my age still get presents, but that's dwindled for me for many years now and has almost reached nil.

There's a couple people I do exchanges with, but there's no actual "Christmas morning" type of thing in my life anymore. That part of my life has come to a close. And when I thought of how this year would be, waking up at my mother-in-law-to-be's house and eating breakfast, drinking coffee and being with the man I'm going to marry, I felt good.

And then we'll go to my aunt's (One of many aunts I always mention) for Christmas dinner and see about 25 of my relatives there. And then the next morning, it's off to the lake to see the Dude's dad and step mom. And there'll be questions about the wedding that I'll have answers to, and we'll eat festive things and sleep in and be cozy with warm drinks.

And I can look back on my mom and thank her for always making Christmas about family and tradition and the experience, and not the gifts. And traditions are important. Last year when my brother came up to spend Christmas with us after Jerry died, I laid a stocking out on his bed like our mom used to do when we were kids. In all honesty, I did it more for me than for me. You do little things to keep what and who matters alive how you can and where you can.

Post-Christmas

Christmas was good times. And probably it was one of the better Christmases I've had since I was in my teens. There was minimal running around, good food, and McPal and his boyfriend came over for an impromptu dinner, which was unexpected and awesome. They had no plans and we had lots of extra stew. I love when things like that happen.

My first time not being in my hometown for the holidays and doing things my own way has been a success. And Avatar was pretty damn awesome. Seeing a movie was great; a lot better than hanging around waiting for company and turkey, not that I didn't miss my family. Just... it was nice having my own loose schedule to follow.

Who knows what next year will be like. Hopefully I'll still have my Smokey. The two-year lease states we need to be in this apartment. The Dude and I have plans to be together for the long haul. But a long time ago I realized that no matter what predictions I made for the future, even just a year away, there's always some X factor that changes everything. Since I was 18 I've written down a chronological list of things that have happened that year. There's always something punchy in that list I didn't see coming.

It's past 2:00 a.m. now. In celebration for the holidays (I'm off until January 4th) I spent the entire day playing my new Harvest Moon: Animal Parade Wii game. I won't shock anyone by stating the actual amount of hours I plugged into this venture.

The Dude is in bed. I should go join him.

Merry Christmas Eve to all

T'was the day before Christmas and my brother draws near
I'll pick him up at the station, and then bring him here.
I made him a stocking but it's not up with care
I'll lay it out while he sleeps and when he wakes it'll be there.
That's how mom used to do it when we were small
so I'll sneak in quietly and hope I won't fall.
He'll sleep on the couch, and us in our bed
And visions of rum and eggnog will dance in our heads.
We'll open our presents after we've awaken
And then we'll all eat some good Christmas bacon.
We'll probably need coffee to be in good form
though when we were kids, 4:00 a.m. was the norm
Since things are quiet and so very low-key
With no running around to do, we'll go see a movie.
Avatar's out and with a glowing review
And once we're back home, we're eating beef stew.
We'll start cooking it tonight in the trusty crock pot
And half a day later it'll be juicy and hot.
We'll all cuddle Smokey and have a hot drink
and then toast to Jerry who was gone in a blink.
It'll be cozy and peaceful, quiet and light
Merry Christmas to all, and have a good night

From Scratch

Day after the winter solstice and while it seems like every northern region in the Western hemisphere got dumped on (we're talking snow here), Toronto was left more or less alone. Since I barely have to leave the house if I don't want to, a part of me is bummed out about the lack of snow for Christmas. But I guess there's still time. And if not, I suppose it's nicer for drivers and cyclists to not have to deal with snowfalls that come up to your knees.

The Dude brought home the Charlie Brown Christmas tree and we have our little presents all around it. It's a quirky yet quaint little scene.

I was thinking about my mother's decorations. She had accumulated a number of them over the years, which is what people do. They're not the sort of things a reasonable person buys all in bulk one year. They each tend to have their own stories or sentimental value or special place in the collection of Xmas goodies.

After she died I know those things got packed away. But I've never seen them since. Boxes have a way of getting lost or misplaced when you keep moving around. Things go missing. It's a crying shame. Unfortunately, my personal collection of unique tree ornaments numbering about 20 or so were also in that box. My December birthday led a lot of people, particularly one aunt, to gift me with Christmas tree ornaments, very pretty ones.

And they're gone so I have to start from scratch. My Christmas item list now totals a candle from one of my aunts and now this Charlie Brown tree. I have a long way to go. I think I must be at that age anyway where you start to rubble up your own homey things like that.

To change the subject abruptly, I'm getting used to Jerry's absence. Still having Smokey around is a huge part of that. It would be too hard to have an empty house, and it would feel empty without my both cats. I've been thinking about the good memories I have of Jerry. And I have a lot. I also made videos of him that I've been watching.

Smokey still meows for his brother and looks for him, but less and less each passing day. It seems when he really misses him and is getting the picture he's not coming back, he comes to the Dude and I for hugs. We are happy to oblige him.

A brother for Christmas

I did all my Christmas shopping in one quick burst of productivity. I found out my brother was coming up for sure, so I set out to get some things for him to open under the tree. And we are getting a tree, this tree:

The Dude is out buying it now, supposing there are any left. I imagine this pathetic little number will be popular with the likes of other fellow 20-somethings-sans-children.

But getting back to my brother, while I'm really looking forward to a quiet Christmas with the Dude, having my brother here will add that family cozy element to the holiday. Also I can't help but feel a little maternal towards him and that makes me want to try harder to have a nice Christmas for him.

He really wanted to make it here before Jerry passed. Jerry was his cat. He named him Jeremy when he was 8 years old, I'm pretty sure after a kid in my class who was a bit of a troublemaker. He did this to bother me, I think, because having a cat named for someone in your class is awkward and my brother specialized in driving me crazy. I started calling Jeremy "Jerry" for short to make it less obnoxious. Luckily it stuck. I don't know how many cats have nicknames, but that cat did. Eventually we stopped referring to the cats as Smokey and Jeremy entirely.

My brother and his friends gave him other nicknames, like Jeremiah King of the Gypsies. The Dude's brother called him Little Jerry Seinfeld. I called him Geriatric Jerry. When the spirit moved me, he also went by Jerome and Gerald. He was born to be nicknamed, that cat.

But although my brother missed Jerry, Smokey could use the visit from him. He's been lonely and sucky, poor little guy. I decided to get Jerry's ashes returned to me, which I'm hoping to give my brother when he's here, thinking maybe he'd like to sprinkle them somewhere meaningful as a way to say goodbye.

It's an interesting season this year. There's been hard choices, loss, and a new feeling of adult responsibility. And now making my own Christmas rather than only participating. It's an unexpected little milestone to cross. Surprisingly and pleasantly so, I feel positive about it.

Small favours

Something that breaks my heart is giving Smokey a treat and having him run to me, only to stop and look over his shoulder for Jerry, not once but twice. They used to run together. In fact they used to race.

When I was a kid, and a teenager for that matter, my brother and I did a race too. On Christmas eve we would do our pyjama race. First one back downstairs got to open their Christmas Eve present first. It became very competitive.

It started before I turned 10 and my brother and I petitioned our mom to let us open one present before bed. She agreed so long as we were ready for bed first. And we had to both be ready. This was the beginnings of the Christmas Eve Pyjama Race ©.

Rules developed. First person back got not only prestige, but the right to open their present first. Mom's role eventually became that of the referee. Boxers worn under pants did not count as pyjama bottoms. Carrying your pyjama top down the stairs was foul. As there was one race per year, we were in it to win it.

I miss those days. I miss being a kid. Being an adult can be great too, but you never grow up without losing things that matter to you. And you never stop losing what matters. I miss Jerry. But I have peace about losing him. It was his time. I just have the nurse the Jerry-shaped hole he's left in my heart and take care of Smokey, because he's grieving too.

Thinking about how much it hurt to lose Jerry, I realize how lucky I was to have such a great cat, and that I still have another great cat going on 17 years. They witnessed those pyjama races. I didn't just watch them grow up, they watched me too. My life is never without those kinds of small blessings. And like my aunt says, thank God for small favours.

Avoiding the bus is good

I crafted, I crafted! I'm pleased with my little card creations. I didn't make them terribly elaborate, but I did make them myself and I did my best to make as many as I could in one evening. I was aiming for 20 and I made 14.

Here are a few:
Most aren't as elaborate as the candy cane or stocking, but I'm pleased enough with them to send them out without worrying that the recipients will wonder, "What the hell is this shit?"

I also have to mail out a clock. In my infinite wisdom, for my aunt in Vancouver I bought this one-of-a-kind craft clock and that requires special packing to avoid damaging the hands and is also fragile. I've also now waited until 11 days before Christmas and counting, so I'll have to pay for faster delivery. Her gift to me arrived days and days ago. She's obviously more organized.

Christmas plans are taking shape. The Dude and I are most likely staying here to be with Jerry, my brother may come up and his brother and his fiancee may be watching movies with us on the 26th. Definitely low-key. I'm warming up to it more and more these days. Letting go of the idea of a big family Christmas is hard, but it's not without bonuses when you think about it.

1. No bus ride there.
2. No bus ride back home.
3. No waiting in line to buy a bus ticket.
4. No waiting in line over an hour for the bus. (See a pattern developing?)

So while I'll miss my family, this will also be the year of avoiding the godforsaken bus.

One of a kind

Today I am going to the One-Of-A-Kind Craft Show. Score! I've been once before, and I've always wanted to go back. Things I'm hoping to find are gifts for two aunts and possibly some original Christmas cards.

I've been wanting, actually craving to make my own cards this year, but honestly I have no idea how to go about it without winding up with something akin to the type of macaroni on paper shit I made when I was seven. Where do you start? Scissors, glue, paper, envelopes that are pre-made to fit the size of cards you want to make... glitter? Pretty paper? I really have no idea.

I want to make it more Christmas-like around here. I have all of one decoration that I've never taken out of the box. The Dude has found our tree. You can buy it at Urban Outfitters for $20. So there's a plan. I've tried to send out Christmas cards in past years and this time I really want to kick it up a notch.

It's so easy to let it slide, and resort to grabbing a few gifts for those who you're closest to, make travel arrangements and call it a night. I want to feel the season and the spirit of the holiday. The more I think about it, the more important it is to break up the year, which is full of responsibilities, the job, housework, and so on.

I also think a few years ahead when I likely will have children. I don't want Christmas to begin and end with whether or not there are kids present. The Dude feels strongly about that sort of thing, and living vicariously through his nieces and nephews as they get excited about Santa. Me, not so much. Granted, it's sweet and endearing and there's nothing like a wee child putting out milk and cookies before bed, but I don't want the season to be just about whether or not there are kids to make it a valid holiday celebration.

I want the season to be about togetherness, and about the family you do have. I don't have much in the way of an immediate family, and that's something that grieves me. I have my brother, and I wouldn't trade him, but he's in another city and a man of few words. I'm more than blessed in the extended family arena, though. And so that's what Christmas means to me, being with those people who I don't see often enough and counting myself lucky to have them.

And so today is the first day for me where I am going to begin my ascent into the Christmas spirit. Someday I'll have children for whom I'll shop for toys. Until then, I'm enjoying a more adult version of the season. This, of course, shall include alcohol, festively served and loudly appreciated.