Every year we come back to my husband’s childhood home for Christmas. We are fortunate, I guess, in that we never have to worry/argue/agonize about splitting time between two sets of grandparents since mine are 7,500 miles away. It has become a holiday ritual:
Santa goes to grandpa and grandma’s house.
This year I let my 7 yo, Mr. Monk, pack his own backpack for the plane ride. Not surprisingly, “practical” was not his top priority…
I have been doing the holiday the right way: I did not accomplish a thing since we arrived here on Monday. It certainly feels good to not have to be mindful of efficiency 24/7 because now I have plenty of time to burn… I am after all, as the British calls it, on holiday.
My mother-in-law on the other hand makes the gingerbread house, does arts and crafts, plays “pretend games”, bakes cookies, plays cards and Scrabbles, in short, provides great childhood memories for the boys. And in all honesty, things that I am not good at. I do however remain an accomplished “efficient” dishwasher, as my father-in-law commented appreciatively. Here’s the thing: I don’t mind helping out when I am at my in-laws because they are always so appreciative, making sure I know that I “don’t have to do this or that”. They actually thanked me EVERY TIME I did the dishes. Because of my own anal retentiveness, I cannot sit around watching the mess built up anyway. I volunteer to vacuum the house while they entertain the children. I consider that a more than fair trade.
There is no rest for the wicked as the cliche goes, especially on the day when baby Jesus was born: I do need to pay the piper today. Christmas Eve. An entire holiday tradition of my own: Frantically wrapping all the presents that have been arriving at my in-laws since November and accumulating in the basement. The “DO NOT ENTER” zone for my kids until December 25, aka, Santa’s Workshop…

Santa'w Workshop...
The most annoying part of “Santa’s job” is to open up all the packages, tear open the plastic wrapped around the items and discard the cardboard boxes and the said plastic thingy. Seriously, Amazon.com, have you not heard of global warming or any environmental alarm about our impending doom? You do NOT need to wrap books in that fashion: they do not break! One of the boxes has an elongated shape, and is about 4 feet tall. You wonder what it contained? A nylon kitchen spoon for my mother-in-law, wrapped in giant bubble wraps! Yes, yes, yes, I do feel guilty for being part of this… But they (Amazon.com) make it so easy to just order everything and have it shipped to my in-laws rather than lug them all the way from Chicago…
So. Now you know what I will be doing the whole day on Christmas Eve: Hiding in the basement. I only wish that Santa’s Workshop came with a bar…
If you celebrate Christmas, here is wishing you a peaceful Christmas Eve and a very Merry Christmas.



















