Merry Christmas Adam!

   I was never one for the Christmas holiday, growing up. I wasn't a Scrooge. I just never liked what the day was going to be. My mother getting stressed to the point where she could easily stroke out. She has the grand ideas of perfection that her family, well... We aren't the perfect family, let's just say that. She drags out the good crystal, china, gold-ware, linens and cooks for days. We would be happy with regular plates, playing games, goofing off instead of reminiscing about the times where each one of us had broken such treasured items on the table. (Not naming names brother-who-scaled-his-closet-shelves.)  There's always a fight. (I've actually been kicked out of the house during a pretty good one with my father.) There's WAY to much work. And, embarrassingly enough. One of her many cats always manages to have an ass cleaning session in the middle of the table about 5 minutes before the food goes out. Y-5 everyone! LoL
   Here I am. 30-something years old, and it's Merry Christmas Adam. (The day before Christmas Eve. LoL) It's become my family's holiday rule that we don't travel on the holidays. Why? Read the above paragraph. I have good china, linens, crystal... But I think that I have yet to make a meal where we set the table with it all. Of course we are going to have the big Christmas dinner. But compared to my Mom's... It's a joke. Nothing fancy. Things that we like. And it's set out so that we can graze through out the day, rather then have to sit down and gorge ourselves out in 20 minutes, at a time where we aren't used to eating.
   It's not just the food that is done differently in our house. We have presents from family and friends under our tree as soon as it goes up. Mom's house? They aren't seen till Christmas morning. Santa's present appears Christmas Eve, while you're sleeping, in special paper that has his face on it. Mom's? She hand writes "Santa" on every one. If that wasn't the first clue as to who Santa really was... "Mommy? Why does Santa write just like you???" LoL We open a present on Christmas Eve, and that present is designated by having a bow on it. (None of the others do.) Amazingly enough, they are always new pj's. That way there are no stains or mismatching in Christmas morning photo's. I never opened a present before Christmas growing up, unless it was trying to sneak a peak at what I've gotten. There's no 'order' to opening presents here. Find your name, tear into it! It's Christmas! Screw the paper and mess. We can get to that later!!! Growing up, your presents were in large baskets, handed to you, and there was always a certain order that you had to open them. Not to mention the schedule was ALWAYS: Wake up, stockings, breakfast, CLEAN YOUR ROOM, followed by an INSPECTION! And only after you PASSED the inspection could the "real" presents be opened. One at a time. With everyone watching you. I remember always asking "Is it okay to open this one next?"
   I'm not saying that there weren't good Christmas'. There were. But, when I think of Christmas growing up, there is one word that comes to mind. Order. And I just think that half the fun of it all is the chaos. A controlled chaos, but chaos none the less. Maybe with 3 very strong willed children, if Mom didn't have such a tight control over everything, the chaos would have been overwhelming.
   This Christmas is the first Christmas where Sadie has really GOTTEN Christmas. The magic, the mystery, the finding the perfect gift and keeping it a secret.. Her little eyes light up brighter and brighter as she moves her little elf into a new pocket on her Christmas countdown. The search every morning to see where Sir Sam Elfkinstein has chosen to keep careful eye over us. Her singing off-key to Christmas carols that are endless repeated in television commercials or on the radio. Writing daily letters to Santa to remind him that she thinks she's been good, and to PLEASE bring her a dinosaur pillow-pet. Her careful pouring of painstakingly measured out ingredients, in our quest to make the PERFECT Christmas cookie.
   There's not very many "lessons" during our day these days. But I think that the life lessons being learned are so much more valuable. Love, share, care and always remember the magic of Christmas. It took my daughter to teach me the magic of it all. I guess I'm not the only teacher here....

What? No. We can't stop here. This is bat country.

In case any of you are wondering why I'm using a Fear & Loathing quote to title this blog. Check out the picture. I'm quite certain, that my daughter, is the long lost child of Hunter S Thompson. Just take away the copious amounts of illegal substances and add some well placed snorkels, alligator tails & a flooded bedroom... And that would be her life! If that's her life, then of COURSE! My life must be filled with fantastical joy or imagination. That would be WRONG.

I set out with the best of all intentions in this homeschooling adventure. I honestly thought that after 25 years of going to school... The LEAST that I would be able to do was corral and focus my 5 year old for a little while through out the day. I had it ALL planned out. Then my daughter found those plans, & took them to her Dad. He then looked up how to make some fantastic paper airplane out of it and then... My plans went up a sophisticated folded idea and down a crumbled pile of trash.

I, by nature, am a English/history person. My husband, by nature, is a math/science person. I figured that I could get Noodle love reading and writing as much as I do, by the magnitude of my enthusiasm. That's not always the case. Noodle is a science person. She's a number person. She is NOT a reading/writing person. I think at the present time, she's on track to be come a paleontologist or a entomologist.  If it's cold blooded, roars, and lived 50 billion years ago... She knows ALL about it. Ask her to spell her name in both upper case and lower case letters... And she tells you that all upper is fine. "No one really NEEDS the lower case one's. They're extra." The frustration is incredible. I'm determined to be a success at this. However, only if success is judged by Noodle correcting dinosaur information programs.... If so... I'm queen of the world!