Santa Who?

I grew up believing in Santa. I did. I had every intention of allowing my children the same joy and wonder of a Christmas with gifts magically appearing under the tree. Sometimes, however, our best laid plans become foiled. And so, at a very tender age, Joshua learned the truth. There was a Santa, and her name is Grandma.

He passed this knowledge to the younger sisters, who also discovered fairly quickly that Santa Grandma would give them just about any requested thing on their lists they wanted. Oh sure, sometimes there's a bit of negotiation, "Well, that's a mighty big thing you want, you know. You might not get anything else..." Santa Grandma has said quite often.
"I don't care, Grandma," one of the grand kids would say. "I really really really want this!"

Last Thursday, Ruth's elementary school held their Christmas concert. Joshua, the dutiful big brother he is, tagged along with me and Hannah, even though I had given him the opportunity to stay home. We walked down the aisle, found my parents, and sat down while The Boy wandered around socializing with his friends and former teachers. As the beginning of the concert drew near, he made his way to our row and plopped down into the seat next to his grandmother.

Since I am an understanding mother, I said, "You don't have to sit here if you don't want to. I don't mind if you sit with your friends."
"No, that's O.K." Josh replied while giving his grandmother a huge hug. "I want to sit next to the coolest Grandma in the world."

Yup. He knows who is the REAL Santa Claus.

Sneaky!

He walked into the door of 'some things looming' in his heavy winter coat, laptop strapped across his body, a bone weariness etched on his face. Poking his head into the Gallery, he called out a greeting to me and my father then made his way down the long narrow hallway to the back office.

A few minutes later, she came skipping down the stairs from the third floor. Guessing it was Jeremy who had arrived, Hannah called out several times down the two flights. "Daddy! DADDY! DADDY!" She ran down the hall and into the office to find Jeremy who had sat down into one of the small formal chairs reserved for our visitors. Vibrating with suppressed energy, she threw herself into his arms. "I MISSED YOU DADDY!" Hannah said, as if it had been days and weeks instead of mere hours since breakfast.
"I missed you too." Jeremy said.
They were almost eye to eye with her standing and him seated, so she said, "I wanna give you a KISS!" Too bad he was too tired to notice the ornery glint in her eye.

Leaning to the side so she could have better access to his cheek, she moved forward as if to kiss him. At the very last minute, Hannah licked her finger, and touched the inside of his ear before anyone could blink.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUGGGGGHHHHH!!!!!!" yelped Jeremy as he shuddered and reached to grab her.
Nimble and quick, Hannah dodged Jeremy's seeking arms, and bolted down the hallway. After she reached a safe distance she hollered back triumphantly, "SCORE! HANNAH: 1 Daddy? Zeeeeeeeeeeeeerrrrrooooooooooooooo."

Mooooooom!!!

I've discovered one of the best parts of having a teenager: multiple opportunities for causing embarrassment, or as I call it...payback time.

When he was 2, he threw a tantrum in the middle of the mall because he wanted to ride the Christmas train. I, with my belly full of baby, couldn't lift the 43 pound toddler from the floor because he had suddenly developed jello for bones and a 96 pound head. He also wailed like an ambulance siren racing to the scene of an accident. The mall was packed with people who gave me looks, some sympathetic "aww, he probably needs his nap" but more often than not, judgment, "She should really learn to control THAT CHILD."

"THAT CHILD" took candy from the drugstore and had it half opened and half eaten before I knew what he had done. "THAT CHILD" pitched a fit every time we were in the grocery store and caused me to leave an entire shopping cart full of groceries. "THAT CHILD" caused an elderly man to yell at him ("Quit Making such a racket. Not all of us wanna hear that, BOY") at the store. I walked out of more stores with "THAT CHILD" until, oh, four years ago because he either climbed the shelves, broke items , pitched a fit, ran through the aisles, flipped shopping carts, sang at the top of his lungs, turned innocuous items into drums, knocked people over... I couldn't take "THAT CHILD" out in public with out a scene, no matter what I did, or how I tried to prevent something from happening.

Now that my mere existence is cause for major embarrassment, I've discovered the pure joy of tormenting my fourteen year old son. Even the smallest, unexpected things cause him great grief. So, I look for every available opportunity to unsettle him: in front of his friends, his family, or when it's just the two of us. And whenever he has complained, I simply remind him about the many many times he was the cause of my public humiliation when he was smaller, and "Aren't you just so sorry now, kid?" He usually just rolls his eyes.

At about 2:45 this afternoon, I received a text message from Joshua requesting I pick him up, well, not exactly. "Chorale is canceled," he said, and I was to extrapolate from that brief communication that he now needed a ride. I could have been rotten and replied "So?" or "That's nice." But instead, I took pity, knowing how blustery cold it was today.

Pulling up to the school curb, I noticed The Boy didn't bother to wear his winter coat. Rather typical, as he is a teenager "Coats are embarrassing!" which, I suppose, gives a whole new meaning to the phrase "being cool." Josh jumped into the car, shut the door and said, "WOW it's FREEZING outside. I'm so cold!"
"Maybe if you wore your winter jacket..." I barely had the phrase out of my mouth when he groaned and said, "Not me. My face. My face was cold!"
"If you wore a scarf..."
He interrupted again, "How in the heck would a scarf help my face?!?"
"Well, you wrap it around your neck and pull it up over your mouth and your nose."
Joshua shot me a rather incredulous look, one that said, "Are you out of your mind?!?"
I laughed and said, "Oooh, I could make a scarf for you with eye holes. That would keep your face warm." He looked at me like I grew three heads so I continued, having great fun imagining such a contraption. "And then you'd look like a pirate, or a bandit, or something..."
"Mother!" He said, offended. "You're going to totally destroy me at school if you made me something like that! You might as well buy me a ski mask, as if I'd even wear that!!!!"
"Well, you're face would be warm..." I suggested.
"Don't you DARE make me a scarf with eye holes!"
I warmed up to the topic as I said, "And I could add a nose hole and a mouth hole, and then we can tie it around at the back of your head..."
Joshua sunk lower and lower in the car as we rode home. "I won't wear it. I would die. You're going to destroy me. There's no WAY you could get me to wear something like that."

I think I might have to take a trip to the dollar store to buy a few scarves, cut some holes in them, put them in boxes, and wrap them up for Christmas. Yup, it would be so worth the expression on his face when he unwrapped his 'gifts,' if only I could guarantee he remembered this conversation.

G'Night!

Wednesday night passed into Thursday morning before we crawled up the stairs to our attic bedroom. Fatigue dragged at us, as we contemplated our stupidity at staying up so late on a work night.

Flopping into our king-sized bed, Jeremy pulled the covers over himself, burrowing down until only the top of his face was exposed.
"Comfy?" I asked, as I still stood by the edge of the bed.
"Yep!" he said.
"Ready?" I asked. Stupid question, since I know he falls asleep mid-flop and is usually completely unconscious when his head hits the pillow.
"Huh?" He said. Huh. He answered. Must only be half-asleep this time.

So I shut off the light throwing the room under a blanket of pitch black darkness. Apparently the street lamp that usually shines into our room wasn't working. Using my hands I located the hubby within the miles of bed, and amongst the many layers of covers. Too bad we were both too tired to enjoy the groping. Elbowing the sleeping bear next to me, I said, "Hey, you didn't kiss me goodnight, yet!" I could sense he rolled towards me, so I rolled towards him.
"Marco," He said.
"Polo," I said, and then laughed right before I planted a big one on his forehead.

At least, I hope it was his forehead.