Tuesday, December 18, 2012

Cobb, Clemente, Rose, and... this blog

Hey, everyone.   
Hit a kinda cool milestone the other day, with this thing.

It received it's 3000th hit.

See, that's why I listed Cobb, Clemente and Rose in the post title.

It's a baseball reference. 3000 hits... big milestone for ball players...

never mind.

I started this, 4.5 years ago, just.. because.   Because it was suggested by someone who made it sound like fun.   Because I'm lazy about writing unless I impose deadlines / assignments for myself.
Because... I could.

And I was fairly sure it would just sit out there on "the internets" without anyone reading it.   
And it sorta did, for awhile. 

And then y'all started checking it out a bit, and a bit more....

Anyhow  - Thanks everyone.  Thanks to those who read it, follow it, occasionally comment on it.

Hope that you continue to get something out of the transaction, moving forward.  

Wednesday, December 12, 2012

Thoughts at Christmas 2012


Seems, in reviewing past history here, that I’m in need of at least one “Christmas-related” entry, to keep the multi-year streak alive.   

Thoughts at Christmas, 2012.
We’re not sure our daughter believes in Santa.
She's only five years old.
I remember lying awake in a bedroom I shared with my brother in the farmhouse my family was renting at the time, when I was five.   It was Christmas eve, and at one point in the night, we SWORE we heard sleigh bells.    
But like with most kids, by the time the folks made it official, we were ready to accept it as gospel.  The logistics of the operation simply made it too much to accept.

Back to my daughter:   She doesn’t get excited about Santa, doesn’t ask a lot of questions about him. 

“Do you want to watch this Christmas cartoon?”
 “No thanks, how about a Wild Kratts?”

Maybe this has as much to do with the fact that Rankin Bass made really… bad cartoons, as it is an issue of Santa belief.   
(See old post, highlighting top 5 holiday tv shows.  No I’m serious. Go find it, read it, and come back.  Now!  I’m going to count to five…)

 I’m quite sure that if there is doubt, the fact that she’s seen him in 4 different places in the last 10 days, and he tends to look quite different each time, doesn’t help.

“If he’s Santa, and is getting ready for Christmas, why is he posing for photos in my gym?” she may be thinking to herself.   And at the zoo, and in a parking lot at the village community center, and at a freakin’ pancake breakfast….
And likely at another pancake breakfast, this coming weekend.   (Yay pancakes!)

He’s freakin’ everywhere.   

Can’t believe we  actually stood in line and spent money to get pictures taken with him at the mall, in 2010. 
 
But if she isn’t buying it, she’s not saying so, and how do you broach the subject with your child?          
So, hon – you believe in Santa or what?
Of course I do, daddy.  Why do you ask?
Oh… uh… no reason.  Have a cookie.

Which leads to a serious issue:  If you’re not active in a church, and Santa’s not a big deal, what do you do to instill a sense of wonder and magic in your five year old, for Christmas? 

This has been weighing heavily on me the last couple of weeks, as I don’t want it to be simply about receiving presents.   

And at what age can you hope to get her to understand  why it’s better to give than to receive; why the story of Scrooge is so meaningful?

Confession: I struggle with getting excited about Christmas, every year.  

You dedicate so much time and effort into the gearing up for it, preparing for it, shopping, decorating..What are we gonna cook on Christmas eve, what are we gonna cook for our dinner on Christmas day; did we make sure that all the kids on the list got equal treatment; can we finally remove ____ from our extended gifting list, as we didn’t get anything from them last year… blah blah blah…..  
   
Jesus.    

And while I write this, I know we behave this way  because we DO care about each other; we do love the kids on our list, we DO want to instill a sense of importance and relevancy to the day…

 And I approach Christmas for myself with no expectations, yet still manage to frequently feel a sense of disappointment,  which is stupid, and all on me, and I know it, but… there it is.      

And I really don’t want my daughter, who’s already happy and full of imagination and wonder and whimsy, to grow up feeling the same way.  

Not on my watch, anyhow.