Last night Chris and I went out with my parents to dinner and a movie. I looked forward to it for two days. We saw the movie Up In The Air with George Clooney. What started out as a movie about a man who really knows the ins and outs of business travel, turned into a deeper movie about family and the importance of nurturing and appreciating those relationships in your life. This is why I like the holidays so much; for nurturing and appreciating family and friends. While Christmas time has come and gone in a flash, with the decorations strewn about my house, the frenzy of mass consumerism, Christmas music, shopping centers all lit up, Santas everywhere you turn (with Ava asking me if that is the real Santa or not), and parties of course. What we are left with is a very messy house and toys overflowing every room in our house; or at least, that is what it feels like. More importantly, we are also left with a rekindling of relationships that fall astray with the chaos of life. The holidays bring us together and let us love each other up for a a few short weeks before the year ends. It is our opportunity to hold hands with each other and tell our friends and family that we love them. Seeing the movie last night reminded me about how special it is to have close relationships in our lives, and how the holidays help us nurture those relationships.
Preston received a mini-Dyson vacuum cleaner for Christmas this year. It was time he said goodbye to the pink vacuum that is falling apart due to overuse, and welcome the more manly Pottery Barn Kids Dyson into his life. The response to his gift has been overwhelming. Today he wanted to sleep with the vacuum and eat with the vacuum resting on his food tray. He is busy vacuuming all day, whether it be upright traditional style, or whether he decides he needs to get those hard to reach places at which time he removes the hose from its upright position and gets down on his hands and knees. I do hope he carries his love for vacuuming with him through life so I can get him to clean my floors for me.
Elsa, because she is a princess, received some girlie attire. Nanny Laura gave her a ballerina skirt and headband, while Auntie, Uncle Nima and Ronin gave her a talking purse with lipstick and a mirror in it, as well as some beautiful polka dot shoes. Elsa does love her shoes.
Violet loves books, stuffed animals and balloons more than anything, so one of her favorite gifts was a balloon blowing kit with the types of balloons you can manipulate into different shapes. She also got some new books that she likes to sit and quietly read to herself.
Ava is very into arts and crafts, and we are too since they keep her busy, so she got tons of sticker books and pens and markers and paints and has been working diligently on those projects ever since.
In the meantime, the decorations have been taken down, and I feel sad to see my perfect Christmas tree get thrown to the curb, literally, today. What a waste of a perfect Douglas Fir. I am happy to have de-cluttered the house and rid my life of fallen pine needles though.
Today we took all the kids to get their flu shots. Boy was that special. The babies had no idea what they were in for, and Ava was surprisingly oblivious to her purpose at the doctor’s office today until in the waiting room she says confidently, “I’m not getting a shot today right?” I said, “yes you are Ava. You have to get your . . ” WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. Literal meltdown right there in the waiting room. Ava lost it and screamed like she was 2 years old. She went through some of the stages of grief right there in the Peds office: there was sadness (waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa), anger (I am NOT going to get a flu shot today!), denial (you said I am not getting a shot for a week and it hasn’t been a week yet), and bargaining ( I don’t even care if I get sick if I don’t have to get the flu shot). So, Chris thought maybe it would help if he got a shot. Chris says to the nurse, “do you have an empty needle you could stick me with?” She looked at him like “are you freakin serious?” Chris looked back like, “I’ll do anything for my kids so now stick me with a damn needle.” The nurse scurried out of the room and came back with a needle. Chris proceeded to strip himself down to his tighty whities and encouraged Ava to watch how daddy could get stuck with a needle and not even flinch. The nurse apprehensively stuck Chris with the needle, Ava watches, and remains unimpressed. I am sitting in the corner with Elsa in one arm and Violet in the other, and we are all watching in disbelief. Chris pulled up his pants, no mickey mouse bandage necessary and those hairy thighs. Ava is still wailing and moaning with great anxiety and anticipation. I say to the nurse, “just give her the shots and make it speedy and we can all be done with this.” I surely wasn’t going to be next to pull down my pants and get stuck with an empty needle. So as Chris restrained Ava’s arms and legs like she was being put into a straightjacket, she was stuck with seasonal flu on one leg and H1N1 in the other. The screaming and wailing immediately stopped . . . and I do mean immediately. The little girls had their shots and let out a short little cry and moved on with life. Before the nurse left the room she said, “you must really love your kids if you were willing to pull down your pants in a pediatric office.”
I had some really great Ava-isms which I wrote down and then forgot to save and now I am so sad because of course I forgot them. I do remember one of them though. Ava asked me, “when we die does our body fall apart?” I thought this was such a weird, morbid question but I admired her for asking it. Now I usually tell Ava the truth about anything she asks me because I want to always be open and honest with her. We talk openly about death a lot. She loves scary things like ghosts and witches, but is scared of wolves. With this particular question I could not bring myself to tell her the truth. I could just imagine her little mind spinning with images of arms and legs and noses and ears falling off of bodies and I couldn’t do this to her, so I simply said “no”.
Until next time, the mothership is signing off.